Page 2 of In Love After Office Hours

I raised my arms, and the silk of my sleeves fell gracefully as I moved. Today was our last practice before the big night, and all of us had come in costume.

Mademoiselle Alberta nodded at the pianist, who then struck the chords that served as our cue.

A fraction of a second to spot, and then we were spinning.

Spin, spin, spin.

One of the girls in front of me stumbled, and our instructor cried out.

“You idiot!”

In the corner of my eye, I saw my father, Daniel Raleigh, nod in approval from the opposite side of the room.

I struggled to keep my face blank as I kept spinning. There was no point offering to help. Mademoiselle Alberta didn’t take kindly to failures. It is the way of our world, she liked to say. And today, girls who accidentally strained their muscles while doing their pirouettes were exactly that.

A failure.

Sometimes, I wished I had the courage to be one as well.

I heard the same girl sobbing as she was made to leave the dance hall. She would no longer be a part of tomorrow’s performance.

It was the way of our world.

“Faster now,” Mademoiselle Alberta commanded.

Spin, spin, spin.

The pressure inside me started to build. The white walls started to merge with the mirrors. The domed ceiling started to cave in. And my father began to multiply in my eyes.

So many Daniel Raleighs, and all of them were grim-faced.

Spin, spin, spin.

I tried counting the number of times I completed a perfect pirouette, desperate to distract myself.

But the pressure kept building.

I strained to listen to the lilting keys coming from the piano.

How many beats were left before I could stop?

How many seconds?

The pressure had reached my heart, and now I could barely hear the music over the chaotic rhythm of my heartbeat.

Spin, spin, spin.

I began to lose sight of my spot.

Noooooo——

Spin.

I started to falter.

Spiiiin.

I started to sway.

---