Page 71 of Mended Hearts

“White shirt. Like what Daddy wears to work.”

“Was he scary?”

“Not really. Just a lil’ funny.”

Funny. Then why was my stomach in knots?

11

Hold My Earrings

LEIGHTON

“Merde!” I swore when I spotted that familiar tiny dancer beside her too-handsome daddy Friday night.

Bemused hazel-blues snapped to my face, excitement glittering under the fluorescent lights. I was pretty sure it was some kind of unspoken law that auditorium buildings had to be lit with the worst possible lighting everywhere except the stage.

“You knowmerde?” she chirped, and if I wasn’t kidding myself, I’d just won a brownie point or two.

“I was a sassy ballerina not that long ago,” I said, fishing my camera out of my bag. “Okay, maybe a lifetime ago for you, but it doesn’t feel very long tome.” Plus, Ollie was the quintessential young, rich girl-dad, so naturally, if they were gonna swear, they’d do it in French.

“Were you ever a snowflake?”

“Nope,” I said, smirking as she immediately posed for a photo. “Never mastered the footwork for that one. Made a pretty decent mouse and a very enthusiastic angel—right up until they kicked me out of school.”

Those big blue eyes widened. “You gotkicked out?” she asked, scandalized.

I nodded solemnly. “Don’t ever punch a fellow ballerina. That’s what crazy friends are for.” I winked, and Ollie cleared his throat—an amused attempt at reproach that made me grin wider.

“Oh! Ollie! Didn’t see you there,” I said, earning a belly laugh from Beau and a little giggle from Tillie. “I was too swept up looking at the prettiest snowflake there’s ever been!”

“I’m not the prettiest,” she argued.

“Psh, yes you are.”

“It’s true. And I’ve seen them all,” Ollie said, jutting his chin forward in a way that made me turn—and, yep, there were Grey and Alice strolling into the lobby.

“Remember, you have fifteen minutes between sets, so catch your breath and hurry to change?—”

“But don’t rush, because I’ve got time,” she recited before bumping my fist.

I pointed behind her, and she squealed, flinging herself into her uncle’s arms. The man was supposedly heartless—a spectacular irony Alice had exploited as his assistant—but fuck me, if he didn’t turn to mush around these kids.

They were so damn cute I couldn’t help it—I snapped a photo, earning an irritated flick of Greyson’s hazel eyes when the flash fired.

“Uncle Grey! You came!”

“Wouldn’t miss it, kiddo.”

“Still,” she said with a little shrug. “There are more nights. I didn’t knowifyou’d make it. I know you’re busy.”

Alice and I exchanged a knowing look, both of us shaking our heads. What ten-year-old accounted for business obligations? One raised inside an empire, apparently. Ollie positioned himself between me and Tillie, casually enough to be subtle, but not enough that I didn’t notice. He and Greyson had been weird ever since the accident—an observation that did not help with my increasing paranoia.

“Mattie, I am so stinking proud of you. You know you earned this, right?” Alice said, already halfway to emotional putty.

I snorted. “It’s true,” I agreed. “You earned your place on that stage, sweet girl. I’m so freaking proud of how hard you’ve been working.”

She nodded excitedly, leaning into her dad, totally ignoring Beau, who was practically breakdancing as he swayed from one side to the other, hanging off Ollie’s arm.

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