Charming Giselle (Ballerinas & Billionaires #3)
Prologue
Giselle
I t’s not easy packing one’s whole life up into a glorified box. I zip up my large hard-case luggage and double-check my list to make sure I’ve got everything I’ll need. My flight for Chicago leaves in exactly three hours, and as excited as I am to start a new chapter with the Joffrey Ballet Company, I’m dreading saying goodbye to my parents. They are the only two people I am going to miss while I’m gone.
A knock at the front door of my cottage snaps me out of my thoughts. “Come on in, Dad. I’ll be right out with my luggage,” I holler down the hallway. My dad is always early, and I’m always running late. I look around my room one last time, making sure I haven’t forgotten anything before heading into the living room with my suitcase.
“You know, Dad, we don’t actually have to leave for another twenty minutes,” I say, walking down the hall.
But, it’s not my dad who’s waiting for me. Fuck my life .
“I was hoping to catch you before you left,” my ex, Hilarion, says, smiling at me as if I’d be happy he’s here.
“What are you doing here?”
“I had to see you one last time and see if I could convince you to stay,” he says, and I can’t help but roll my eyes at the audacity of this guy I used to love. That was until he cheated on me after we’d been together since high school. He blamed it on me not coming back to Napa enough to see him while dancing in San Francisco.
“It’s over, Hill. We’ve been over, and I’ll never trust you again. There’s no future for us. I’m going to Chicago to further my career. Why can’t you accept that?”
“Because I love you, Giselle. I made a mistake, and I’ll never make it again. I need you, babe.”
I glare into his eyes, searching for truth that I know I won’t find. God, once upon a time I would have fallen for those lines, so desperate to hear those three little words. He was everything to me for so long. The first time I saw him in Spanish class I literally swooned over him. I fell hard for the confident football player with the gorgeous mahogany skin, dark curly hair, and rich brown eyes. We were like a damn romance novel—him the quarterback, me the ballerina. A match made in heaven, until it became my personal hell. I gave him everything—all my firsts and more—just to have my heart shattered. Never again.
“And I loved you, but I don’t anymore. You need to move on, and you need to get out. If my dad finds you here, you won’t hear the end of it.”
He hangs his head with his hands on his hips, as if he was expecting me to just fall into his arms and forget all my plans. It’s so typical of him. In hindsight, I realize now he never cared about my dreams; he just wanted me all to himself. I swear I’ll never date a controlling guy ever again.
I walk past him and open my door, pleading with my eyes for him to get that I’m serious.
“Please leave.”
He turns around and stands right next to me, brushing his hand down my arm. “I’ll be waiting for you to come back to me,” he says, and kisses me on the top of my head.
I fight back tears and all the words I wish I could scream, not wanting to give him any more of my emotions or time. As soon as he’s driving away, I slam the door and rest my shaking body against it, trying to calm my racing heart. In that moment, I vow to myself that even if I do return to St. Helena someday, I’ll never be going back to him. Closing my eyes, I take several deep breaths to calm myself down. I don’t want my parents to see me like this before I leave.
Just as I’m fixing my makeup in my entryway mirror, I hear my parents pull up in their old work truck. Pulling the drape back, I peer out the front window, watching as my dad opens the door for my mother and offers her his hand as they walk up the path toward me. My chest clenches at the sight of them. I’ve always loved the way my dad looks at my mom—like she is his queen. Everyone has always said that I look like the perfect blend of my parents. I have my mom’s sun-kissed brown hair and delicate nose, and my dad’s full lips and diamond-shaped face. But overall, I think I take more after my dad’s Italian side, compared to my mom’s German one. They are both beautiful people, inside and out, and I’m so blessed to be their daughter.
I’ll forever be grateful for all the love and support my parents have poured into my ballet training. Without them, all the ballet classes and pointe shoes, and driving me back and forth to Marin to classes, I would have never made it into San Francisco Ballet’s trainee program last year. It was a dream come true to train under some of the best teachers in the nation, and I know it’s what helped me get the offer from the Joffrey to join their corps de ballet.
“Hi there,” I say as I open the door for them.
“Hi sweetie,” my mom says, pulling me into a hug. I squeeze her extra tight and breathe her in, knowing it could be months until I see her again. My mom gives the best hugs, and I’ve needed a lot of them in the last few months after being heartbroken.
“You all packed and ready to go?” my dad asks, stepping inside.
“Yes, Dad. I’m all set.”
“You say your goodbyes to your mother while I get the bags into the truck,” he says with a sad smile. I know they’d prefer for me to join a company closer to home, but they also understand why I need a fresh start away from Hilarion.
“Do you think you and Dad will fly out to see the Nutcracker this winter?” I ask her.
“We’ll try, honey. You know we’d hate to miss it. We’ve seen every single one of your performances since you were a little girl. It’ll just depend on the weather and if my doctor clears it,” she says as she pats my cheek.
“Of course, only if it's safe,” I say, pulling her into another hug. “I’m going to miss you so much mom.” Tears threaten to spill out as I think about my mom’s recent diagnosis of early-onset dementia. She assures me that it’s very early and that she hardly has any symptoms, but I’m terrified that she’ll decline while I’m gone. I love ballet, but I love my family more, so I’ve made my father promise to tell me if anything changes and I’ll come back home. I don’t want to miss out on however many years my parents have left. And Lord knows, they can always use my help running our family vineyard, something my dad loves to tease me about since I obviously didn’t follow in his footsteps.
I will miss this place though. There’s nothing as beautiful as our home up on these rolling hills of vineyards. I’ve been so lucky to grow up here, but sadly, Napa Valley doesn’t have a ballet company for me to join. Heck, it doesn’t even have a dance studio to practice at.
“I’ll be fine, honey. Don’t worry about me. Go dance your heart out in Chicago,” she says.
“Ready?” my dad asks, standing in the doorway.
“I guess so.”
“Onto a new adventure, Giselle. We’re so proud of you,” he says, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Let’s get going.”
I say “see you later” to my mom and take one last look at my little cottage before driving off with my dad. Blowing her a kiss goodbye from the car, I watch our winery disappear out of view through the side mirror.
Chicago, here I come.