The urge to reassure him pounded through her, but she bit the inside of her cheek to hold back. She had to stay on topic and see this through to the end. “Regardless of whatever we’ve been doing, you knew I wanted to keep my private life private. Forgive me for not wanting millions of people to know about my sex life. I can’t even look at my phone right now because it’s full of questions from my family. The cast and crew know. It’s going to be all over the internet and tabloids, along with those photos from outside your hotel. I’m going to be bombarded on social media and ininterviews. There’s no way potential gigs won’t know about it, and it will color people’s impressions of me.”
Again, his face pinched with hurt. “I don’t understand why it’s so bad if people know we’re together.”
“It’s bad because reputation counts for so much in this business, and mine has just been destroyed. It’ll change the kind of jobs I’m offered, and what people will think they can ask me to do.” She clenched her hands in the coverlet and played her final card, the argument he couldn’t talk her out of because it had been the guiding force behind her “rule” all along. “Do you have any idea how much my agent fought them on the showmance angle when I was hired? A lot. And because I’m Puerto Rican, I’ve already been fighting against the ‘sexy and promiscuous’ Latina stereotype for my entire career, something that’s hard enough when you’re a dancer. You knew this when we started, and it’s exactly why I don’t get involved with partners. So, no, you don’t get to make this about you, and you don’t get to tell me that you did this for me. We’re done, Stone.”
Panic crossed his features. “Gina, wait.”
She turned her back on him so he couldn’t see the tears. “I’ll see you in practice tomorrow. You know the way out.”
Unable to sleep, Gina tossed and turned most of the night. The next day, she was up at dawn, staring bleary-eyed at the espresso maker on the kitchen counter, when Natasha dragged herself through the apartment door. Her long curly hair was a mass of frizz, and her eye makeup had smudged, giving her the appearance of a bedraggled raccoon.
They blinked at each other. Gina spoke first.
“Fun night with Jackson?”
Natasha toed off her silver flats and shook her head. “I went home with Dimitri.”
Gina leaned against the counter. “What happened to quitting him like a bad habit?”
“I relapsed.” Tash flopped onto the sofa and threw an arm over her eyes. “Can you make me one, too?”
Gina got down a second cup. When the espresso shots were ready, she carried them over to the sofa. Natasha shifted her feet out of the way so Gina could sit.
“Which one of us is going to go first?” Tash asked in a hoarse voice.
“I guess I can.” Gina frowned into her cup as she stirred. “I broke up with Stone last night.”
That made Natasha sit up. She held her espresso to her nose and breathed deep, eyes rolling back into her head. She took a sip, and nodded. “Now that I’m human again, I have to point out, breaking up means you were together.”
“Yes, damn it. We were together. And I’m an idiot for letting it get that far when it was never going to go anywhere.”
“You like him.”
“Of course I like him.” Gina sipped and burned her mouth. She blew on it and sipped again, the rich, dark flavor exploding over her tongue. “What’s not to like? The man is nearly perfect.”
“Nearly. Except for little things like not telling you Donna had video of you two kissing.”
“And that he talked to her about it behind my back.” It seemed petty to hold a grudge about that, since she’d done the same after the paparazzi had caught them in the parking lot, but it was easier than admitting she was using it as an excuse to break up before their careers forced them to say goodbye.
“Did he explain why?”
“He claims he did it so I would win and keep my job.”
“The nerve of him!”
Gina ignored the sarcasm. “But now I’m not even sure I want it, you know? Oh!” She grabbed Natasha’s arm. “I didn’t tell you what else happened last night.”
“Oh shit, there’s more?”
“Meli wants me to come audition for her Broadway musical!”
Natasha screamed so loud, Gina fumbled her cup. They set their espressos aside quickly so Tash could give her a big hug.
“That is the best news,” Natasha shouted in her ear. “I’m so happy for you! Girl, you better hook me up if you need an understudy.”
“You don’t sing.”
“Ensemble, then. I sing well enough for ensemble.” Natasha leaned back against the arm of the sofa. “You’ll nail the audition and then tellThe Dance Offto fuck off.”
