Chapter 11 #2
Burke stands off to the side, brows furrowed, watching Kai as he goes through the steps at double the speed.
His eyes are sharp, but so are his ears, so he notices me the second my foot hits the hardwood floor.
He doesn't move his head, or take his eyes away from his client, but I see the subtle twitch in his posture, see the way he angles his body toward me just a bit, to acknowledge that I'm here, and he's seen me.
Kai, however, is so deep in his practice, I'd be surprised if he noticed a bomb go off in his face.
Every move he makes is calculated, controlled, and though he's moving at what has to be an inhuman speed, he's nailing every single part of his choreography.
Including the part he struggled with in the beginning.
I wonder if maybe the speed and the concentration it requires made it so that he can't let himself get in his own head? Or is it something else?
It's not my place to sort it out. I'll leave that to the professionals.
What is my job, though, is making sure that Kai gets where he's supposed to be, when he's supposed to be there. And with the new permission from my actual boss to give him hell, I decide to pull out the attitude my mama always used to say I was born with.
No more pulling punches. He wants to act like a kid, I'll treat him like a kid.
"Kai."
He either ignores me, or he's deaf. The music isn't that loud.
"Kai—"
Still nothing, but I notice the grimace of irritation on his lips, so that must mean he's just ignoring me.
Fine, then. If that's how he wants to play this game, we'll tango, motherfucker.
I walk over to the wall and unplug the stereo, holding the cord in one hand, swinging it around like a lasso as I wait for him to—
"What the hell, Denali?!? What are you doing?"
Bingo.
"My job," I snap, "which you're preventing me from doing properly. So as of right now, I'm putting my foot down."
Kai stops mid-gape, his jaw hanging open, staring at me like I've grown horns, or a tail, or both. "What the fuck do you mean, put your foot down?"
"I mean, plainly put, that I'm done entertaining your bullshit.
" The cord falls to the floor as I release it and cross my arms, staring my boss down with narrowed eyes.
"Your schedule is tight. And I understand you want to perfect this, I do.
But I was hired to make sure you make it where you're supposed to be when you're supposed to be there, and dammit, you'll leave when it's time to leave, and no later.
If you want to practice more—not that you actually need to, because let's face it, you're already pretty fucking amazing—I'll put it in your schedule, but today, the time's up. "
I'm not sure who's more shocked at my sudden change in attitude, me, or him, or maybe even Burke.
The room is silent as we all process what has just transpired.
Finally, Kai shakes his head, eyes narrowed, and starts muttering about pushy women and attitude problems, but he gets his bag and heads for the door.
"We'll see you later this week, Burke," I say cheerfully to the other man as we walk out of the dance studio. He waves me goodbye as the doors close on us.
Once outside, though, Kai is on his best behavior—right up until we're in the car together, and there are no longer any witnesses who can endanger his reputation.
He turns on me in a flash, eyes hard, face red, brows damn near in his hairline. "What the fuck was that, Denali?"
He doesn't crowd me in, which is way better than my past experiences in the backs of cars with angry men. But he is livid, and it shows.
"I called in the big guns for help," I tell him, figuring honesty is probably the best policy here.
"And Arista says you can't fire me, because the contract specifies that I work for her, not you.
" As his jaw drops, I grin, just a little, though I'm still sweating inside.
"Apparently, you're more like my direct supervisor, not an actual boss. "
His brows furrow as he stares at me in shock. "Excuse me?"
"That's what she said, at least. So if that's not what you want, maybe take it up with her.
" I turn back to my tablet and bring up his schedule, flipping it around to show him, though he could just bring it up on his phone.
"I've adjusted the schedule today, since you want to drag your feet every time we're somewhere you think you need more work.
From here on out, I will not be scheduling you so tightly, to avoid further instances like this. "
He takes the tablet and eyes it carefully. "Where did that annoying podcast go?"
I knew he didn't want to do that. "Rescheduled to next week, or the one after. Arista will send me details."
His eyes return to the screen. "And the magazine shoot?"
I shrug. "She called and told the photographer that you had a sneezing fit in her office this morning. She's a germophobe, so she told us to let her know when you've stopped being symptomatic, and she'll reschedule."
His bark has dimmed to a little yip-yap now, and he's much more relaxed now that he realizes I fixed things, though I know he'd never admit the breathing room was a relief to him. "And the suit fitting for the gala? Why did it get bumped up?"
"Arista's request," I say simply. "We could have kept the late slot, but I think she realizes you'd need something to keep you busy through the day, otherwise you'd go insane.
" Which isn't entirely wrong, either, but I'm just spitballing.
I have no idea why she wanted me to move the fitting up.
"That reminds me—I have to RSVP you to that.
Would you like to confirm a plus one? There's no requirement to add a name, you could just leave it open-ended, in case there's someone you want to take. "
I'm not fishing, it's info I need to do my job.
He considers it as he hands back the tablet, humming thoughtfully to himself. "I don't have a steady girlfriend," he says with a wink, "but I like to keep my options open. Let's go ahead and confirm, and when I decide for sure, I'll give you a name."
"Womanizer," I say, fake-coughing over it.
"I never claimed to be anything but," he points out, and sure, he's right. Doesn't make it any more appealing. "At least my girls are willing, and they know there's nothing more than a little fun in it for them."
At least my girls are willing. Well, there's one point in his favor. At least he's no Theo.