Pawliday Love

Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

JULIET

T he day passed in an exhausting blur. Seven shows were really too many. It would be so much easier to hate Mason if he wasn’t such a perfect gentleman every step of the way. He had his hands on me for most of the time we were on stage together, but his eyes never wandered, and his grip never strayed from where it was supposed to be. It’d be so easy for him to “slip” and cop a feel, but he never did–not once. He was always quick to let go the moment it was safe to do so, never once holding on longer than he should. In fact, he was such a gentleman about it I would have almost thought he’d lost interest–until he’d flash me that smile brighter than the sun. I’d never admit it to anyone, but, for a moment, I wished he wanted me for real. That this was more than a chase for something he couldn’t have.

And then I’d remember I wasn’t the only girl he smiled at like that, and thankfully, the feeling went away. We still had seven shows a day for the next seven days. I could keep it together that long. With any luck, we’d end up in different productions when Mardi Gras rolled around. It was simple. I just needed to get my heart to stop fluttering when he looked at me like I mattered. I knew the truth. This was just a game to him, and I was the prize.

At least we were done playing for today. The sun set hours ago, so it was dark as I trudged out of the dressing rooms and across the packed theme park. There were ways to get to the parking lot backstage, without dealing with the guests, but this was the quickest path home. It had the added benefit of being the route no one chose. Everyone else would take the long way around to avoid being stopped. Not me. Dressed in my sweats, hood pulled up, and a backpack over one shoulder, none of the tourists looked at me twice. They had no idea I was one of the performers they’d waited an hour to see.

I kept my head down as I weaved through the crowd. My legs might be short, but I was quick enough to make up for it as I zipped around people. People never got out of my way, so I weaved between them.

It took me fifteen minutes to cross the park at top speed. Another five took me through the backstage areas and security to the parking garage–a five-story monstrosity with only one elevator and entirely too many stairs. I cursed myself for not searching for better parking this morning as I made my way up. I was in fantastic shape because I had to be, but those last two shows had taken a lot out of me. Each step up felt like ten.

At least I was only on the fourth floor. It could be worse.

The moment I exited the stairwell, I spotted my blue two-door car at the far end of the row and huffed out a sigh. It had been my first purchase after arriving in the States. I’d bought a car before I bought a bed. I wanted something small, something familiar, like what I’d driven back home. Americans and their giant trucks and SUVs scared me. I wanted a car that didn’t require jumping to get into.

Although maybe something with a larger petrol tank would have been a good idea. I started the engine, and thelow fuel light lit up like a beacon, taunting me. I didn’t bother to suppress a groan.

The only thing that would be worse than stopping for gas on the way home would be doing it in the morning. It was so tempting to push it off, but I knew I’d regret it when my alarm went off. There was a gas station down the street, and it wouldn’t be crowded at this hour.

I grumbled under my breath for the entire drive.

The one good thing about having a car with a small tank was that filling it didn’t take long. As I put the nozzle back into place, something wet brushed against my free hand. I squealed, jumping in the air as I whipped around to see what had touched me.

A fluffy brown-and-white dog cowered a few feet away, apparently as scared of my quick movement as I’d been of its touch. Its pointy ears lay flat, and bright, intelligent eyes stared at me with an expression I couldn’t read. I didn’t know anything about dogs. I’d wanted one my whole life, but my family spent too much time traveling for gymnastics competitions to make having a pet practical.

“Hi there,” I said softly, extending my hand slowly. I didn’t want to scare the creature further, but I needed tosee if it had a collar. I couldn’t imagine anything worse than a family missing their pet on Christmas.

It was the wrong thing to do.

The dog took one look at my outstretched hand and bolted towards the road . I didn’t think–I just ran after it, my trainers skidding on the pavement. If I could get it to cross the road safely, I could worry about calming it down later. First, I had to get it away from the cars.