Chapter 291
So that was Eric’s grand scheme—blocking Hadley’s job prospects not out of spite, but to nudge her toward Blanche’s dance troupe?
And now he was plotting to woo her?
Hadn’t he once vowed to despise her forever? Wasn’t it he who’d sworn, with fire in his veins, that forgiveness would never cross her threshold?
When had the tides turned?
Where had everything gone off the rails?
Two days later, Hadley set out for home.
Still a newcomer to the troupe, she hadn’t yet been handed a spotlight role. Blanche had brought her along mostly to get her feet wet—learning the ropes, meeting the crew, and soaking in the rhythm of the operation.
Every detail, down to the train tickets, had been neatly arranged by Blanche’s assistant.
No sooner had Hadley plopped into her seat than her phone buzzed to life.
Eric’s name flashed across the screen.
“Hello?” she answered, her voice a curious lilt.
“You’re on your way back?” Eric’s tone danced with an easy familiarity, warm and teasing, like a friend who knew her better than she could admit. “When do you roll in? I’ll send Sebastian to pick you up and bring you to the office.”
The office?!
Hadley’s brow crinkled. “Why? What’s brewing?”
“You’ll see when you get here,” Eric said, dangling the mystery like a carrot. “Don’t fret, though. It’s good news, not a storm cloud.”
“I can swing by,” Hadley replied, her words polite, perhaps softened by gratitude for the dance gig Eric had paved the way for. “But no need to trouble Sebastian—I’ll make my own way over.”
Eric’s tone carried a faint edge of displeasure. “Why turn down a perfectly good ride?”
“Don’t get angry,” Hadley interjected swiftly, catching the storm brewing in his voice. “I’m with my colleagues, and your car—well, it’s a bit too much of a peacock’s plume. I only got in thanks to a few strings pulled. I’d rather not wave a red flag and draw more eyes than I already have.”
𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖊: ⳑ𝗮𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⧼ⅽ𝗈𝗺
That made sense.
“Alright,” Eric conceded, softening for her sake. “If you’re set on flying under the radar, I’ll let you call the shots this time.”
A low chuckle rumbled from him before he tossed out, “Hadley, do I get a ‘good boy’ when I actually bend an ear to you?”
What kind of absurd question was that?
Caught off guard, Hadley’s finger hit the end call button swiftly. Her seatmate—a lithe fellow dancer—tilted her head, curiosity glinting in her eyes. “Hadley, you alright? You’re pale as a winter moon.”
“Pale?” Hadley’s hand drifted to her cheek, puzzled.
“Yeah,” the girl said, gesturing vaguely. “Like a ghost just whispered in your ear.”
Hadley’s lips quirked into a faint, wry smile.
Hearing those absurd words from Eric—didn’t it feel eerily close to the same thing?