Chapter 1
ONE
Nina
Never in my wildest dreams could I have comprehended how my life would turn out.
I’m a firm believer that luck is the one thing between myself and some of the most unfortunate people in this world.
Yet as I stand, hands on hips, chest heaving, glancing around at my studio—I know that luck has absolutely nothing to do with my success.
My studio may have materialised under fortunate events—a case of being in the right place at the right time.
But it was the years I spent working late nights at the local bar that allowed me to take the opportunity when it presented itself.
Every penny I’ve ever saved has gone into this studio, and although I might live month to month and down to the penny to keep it, I’m still damn proud of myself and what I’ve achieved.
It’s Friday noon, and I’ve just finished my second class of the day.
My girls are working tirelessly to nail our routine for the showcase we have coming up, and as promised, I’ve given them some extra time for their lunch today.
It gives me a chance to be alone for a while.
To gather my thoughts and let myself go in my safe haven.
It’s a large open space with smooth cream wood floors.
Sunlight reflects off them as it streams in through the five Victorian sash windows.
A barre adorns the entire length of the mirrored wall, which stands opposite the windows, making the room look much bigger than it is.
In a small rectangular bay at the back of the room sits a magnificent, sleek black grand piano.
It was here when I viewed the building and was never removed.
It suits the studio, so I never complained.
I feel more at home here than anywhere I’ve ever lived. I’d come here in the middle of the night when darkness steals the light of my existence if I didn’t think I’d get caught.
I started renting the space twelve months ago when I met the owner in a café.
We got chatting, and she told me about the building.
She had to find a new tenant within three weeks, or she was going to have to sell.
I knew I had to jump at the chance and pray I’d get the girls through the door to afford the monthly payments.
It’s a two-storey building, so—after a lot of thought and deliberation and some unhelpful input from my friends—I converted the downstairs into an open gym.
The memberships, along with my dance lessons, allow me to keep up the payments, and the owner, Erin, did me a deal to make it affordable until I had it up and running.
She completely changed my life that day, and I’m forever grateful to her for helping make my dreams a reality.
Dancing is my passion, it’s all I know, and it’s what gets me out of bed in the mornings. I’m blessed to have a career I adore so much.
I head towards the benches and pick up my phone; I have five missed calls and two texts, one from my mum and one from my best friend Lucy. I open the text from Lucy first.
Lucy
Hugh ended it. Meeting at The Pearl, 8 pm.
This doesn’t shock me, and it means tonight will end up more than a little bit messy. Hugh was no good for Luce. She’s gorgeous, a natural blonde bombshell and a hopeless romantic who longs for something far from reality. Hugh was only ever interested in a Monday to Thursday relationship.
Hugh is an ass.
No doubt Megan will be joining us to help drown in Lucy’s sorrows.
I consider returning Mum’s calls, but I already know what she wants.
It’s the only reason she ever rings. Rolling my eyes, I delete her message without opening it.
Chucking my phone back in my bag, I take off down the studio stairs and head for the gym, knowing I’ll regret my choice to skip lunch.
“I didn’t like that slimy bastard anyway,” says Megan as she drains the last of her pinot, she waves her glass at the barman for another, earning herself a deep frown from him in return. I drop my head and chuckle. How many have they had? I’m only forty minutes late.
I screw my face up, thinking about Hugh and his less than stellar morals. “Me neither. He had all that extra body hair; I just couldn’t get past it myself.” I grimace apologetically at Lucy.
“Ugh, yes.” Megan snaps her fingers at me. “I swear he had hairs poking out his nose when I’d speak with him, and those arms.” She fakes an over-the-top shiver.
Lucy’s mouth drops open, and she flicks her eyes dramatically between us.
“Thanks, bitches.” Her hand slaps down on the table.
“You tell me this now!” We laugh into our drinks as she takes an ice cube and launches it at us.
It bounces off my head and onto the bench seat, making us all break out into hysterics.
“Oh, oh, him over there with the grey tie,” Megan interrupts our laughing fit excitedly.
Lucy scans the group of suits closest to our table until she spots the guy Megan is referring to.
Her eyes go wide.
“The bald one?!” Lucy openly points at the poor guy, and I drop my head in my hands. “Gee, talk about extremes, Megan.”
Heads turn our way as we giggle like a bunch of schoolgirls, but I know this is precisely what Lucy needs right now. Untamed time with the girls is the best form of medicine, after all.
I get up to go to the bar—much to Megan’s dismay, and she tuts, shaking her head at the barman, who is completely oblivious.
Picking up her glass, I turn and give her a cheeky wink.
She looks gorgeous tonight; her dark brown hair is pulled back in a sleek high ponytail, her lips painted a bright red.
I love my dear friends; I’ve known Lucy my entire life. I even lived with her for most of my childhood. Her parents filled a void in my life that no child should ever need filling. Lucy moved into the city with me when we joined university eight years ago.
And that’s where we met Megan. She was loud and silly and the missing piece of a trio we never knew we needed. She moved into our dorm room four weeks later, and the rest is history—sacred. Misdemeanours we’ll take to the grave.
We managed to score one of the oval booths in the centre of The Pearl tonight. We have the perfect view of the whole place from it. The bar sits along the back wall lined with padded stools; pendant lights hang above the entire bar top setting a glow over the marble counter.
I manage to squeeze in next to a woman who’s waiting for her drinks. The ratio of women to men in this place is lower than a ho’s standards.
“What can I get you?” the cute barman asks.
“Three glasses of pinot grigio, please.”
I slide onto one of the stools and look around the club.
It’s abuzz with music, the steady beat pumping through the speakers and creating the perfect Friday night vibe.
My eyes drift to the four large pillars that encase the marble dance floor.
It sits on a platform to the left of the bar, like a stage for men to watch upon.
It’s currently full of women moving their bodies with the music, probably hoping to bag one of the asshole suits for the night.
We are so off them.
As if sensing my thoughts, I catch someone from the corner of my eye sliding onto the stool that the woman has just left.
“Hey, Nina!”
“Joey, hi.” I give a polite smile and then eye the barman.
Hurry up, please.
I know this guy; he is everywhere we go on a night out, and it’s getting a little bit annoying.
I look over at the girls for help. Lucy is giving me the thumbs up while Megan stands, pretending to slowly grind herself on Lucy’s chair. My eyes go wide before I close them and look back to Joey.
For fuck’s sake.
“I’ve not seen you out in a while. How’s the dancing going?” Joey asks, staring far too intently into my eyes. I flick my gaze around the club, uncomfortable and not knowing where to look.
“Really great, actually. We have a show in six weeks,” I mutter back.
Joey is gorgeous; I can appreciate a good-looking man when he’s standing in front of my face, but there is something about him that doesn’t do it for me.
Many times, I’ve found myself stuck chatting to him about something completely mundane.
Like now, he doesn’t even acknowledge my mood.
I’m clearly not interested and have hardly muttered a word, yet he is chattering on about God knows what.
My gaze flicks to the side as I see two men approach the bar, slipping in behind me.
The barman places my order on the cool marble and takes my card.
I use the opportunity to turn my body towards the bar and away from Joey.
His lips are moving, but I’m too lost in the divine smell emanating from the males to my right to understand a word he is saying.
“Two blue label scotches, please,” a deep voice asks at my back. “Did you clock the blonde in the centre booth?”
My ears perk up at the mention of the girls. Okay, I need to get rid of Joey, so I can fully listen in on their conversation.
“No,” replies the other man. He sounds bored, maybe a little bit pissy. “Don’t be that man, El.”
“Me, you mean. Don’t be me,” the first guy ‘El’ shoots back. “Come on, Charles, you know if you’re out with me, you’re my wingman for the night. I know you noticed them too.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he teases his friend.
I nod to Joey, pretending to listen, not having a damn clue what he’s saying.
“You’ll be disappointed with that one El, she’s heartbroken.”
My frown is instant; I wasn’t expecting that. My head snaps around, eager to put a face to the man as Joey shouts in my ear.
“It’s on Netflix. You’ve got to watch it.” I instantly lean away, head butting straight into a solid bicep.
I look up and into a pair of beautiful blue eyes. Oh god, he’s flipping gorgeous. Blond hair shaved neatly at the sides and slightly longer on top. He’s tall—really tall and physically fit. His muscles strain against the smooth fabric of his pale blue shirt.
“I’m so sorry,” I mutter, jerking away.