One beat of direct eye contact, and he’s looking away again.
Gabriel doesn’t break his stride; he quickly passes through the revolving door and slips inside a waiting car, a black SUV with tinted windows. I gape through the glass as the shiny vehicle pulls out and merges into the traffic, my throat so full that I can’t swallow.
He saw me.
My father stared directly into my eyes, and hewalked right past me. He ignored me. Either that, or he doesn’t even know what I look like—wouldn’t that make for a fun fact.
My brow crushes up in sync with my knotted stomach, and I jump to my feet and stride up to the Aboriginal painting decorating the far wall, the one that isn’t made of glass. Hiding my face, I press my shaky fingers to the inner corners of my eyes.
Don’t you cry, Evie.
Don’t you cry for him.
The artwork I’m looking at begins to waver, and the swirling patterns of dots morph into a single, molten mass of earthy colour.
‘Evie?’
I glance over my shoulder. Kye stands blinking at me, jarringly handsome in a tailored white shirt, black tie and grey pants.
‘Everything okay?’ he asks, stepping towards me with a slight frown. Austin comes up beside him, lookingshabby and annoyed in his half-tucked-in shirt and faded jeans.
‘You all right, sweetie?’ Martina, who has suddenly materialised as well, adds.What were the chances of them all showing up at this exact moment?She brushes past Austin and Kye to gently clasp my shoulder.
‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I say brightly. I blink hard a few times and force out a smile.
Don’t you cry.
‘Should we go up?’ I choke out.
‘Heck, yes,’ Austin grumbles. ‘Let’s get this over with. Fuckin’ drama queens, summoning us in on our day off like kings of the rainforest.’
‘Jungle,’ Kye corrects, and his frustrated eyes skim back to mine.
I stare straight ahead as we walk towards the lifts, willing my eyes to stay dry.
Don’t you dare cry.
The universe decides to throw me a bone. The meeting goes better than I could have hoped, and I don’t have to say much other than confirming, with Austin, that our relationship is a publicity stunt, and apologising for not informing Village Pictures sooner. Kye and Martina do most of the talking, reassuring the executives that our only intention was to generate buzz forMoving,which remains our number-one priority, and that we will maintain the ruse until after the film’s release.
Martina and I grab the chance to share a coffee and a pastry at the French bistro next door, and I spend the rest of the afternoon locked inside a dark movie theatre with one of my friends from dance college. A mindless modern-day screwball comedy and an extra-large tub of salty popcorn are exactly what I need to unchain my mind from what happened in the lobby.
Gabriel Dean totally ignored me.
I don’t know what to say to Mum about it all, so I choose the shameful option of avoiding her. Instead of going home, I catch the bus to DanceLab directly from the movie theatre, deciding I can just teach tonight’s class in my leggings, slouchy cable-knit jumper and ballet flats.
After I demonstrate the first half of the showcase routine—a fast-paced sequence to ‘Not Like Us’ by Kendrick Lamar—to my adorably panicked regulars, the class wraps up, and I sneak into Rafael’s studio, where his salsa class is still in progress. Austin and I are scheduled to have our first practice session tonight for our partnered showcase performance.
Slipping onto the bench at the back of the room, I change into a pair of glittery salsa heels, lent to me by Rafa, while scanning the whirl of dancing couples.
My lips pop open.
Over near the industrial-style window,Kyeis dancing with a middle-aged woman, who has her hair wrappedup in a brightly coloured headscarf. His hand supports her lower back as he smoothly guides her into a cross-body lead.
I sit back and stare at him, my brows in the air. Sothisis why he hasn’t been in my class lately? He’s switched teams from hip-hop to salsa?
Kye raises the woman’s hand and leads her into a perfectly executed double turn, his eyes snagging on mine when they come to a stop. He glances away and then back at me, a soft smile hovering over his mouth. Warm honey leaches into my stomach.
The song ends, Rafa thanks everyone for coming, and the students begin to disperse.
