Chapter Two
Seraphina
OH MY GOD, what have I done?
I jog down the path hugging the edge of the lake, trying to keep my pace steady and my shoulders relaxed in case anyone else from Cirque Obsidian is watching me.
They know my first name, know that I work for a big finance firm in the city.
But otherwise, I keep my personal details private.
My dancing is a part of me I don’t like to share.
Except my boss just saw me dressed in the equivalent of a bikini top and a skirt that barely does its job.
I glance back at the fire ring. Even after a year of fire dancing, the sight of the flames sends a jolt of energy spiraling through me. Empowering yet also humbling. Without practice, commitment, dedication, I could very easily get burned.
Much like working with Aiden Hawke.
My breath rushes out. When I finished my performance and locked eyes with Aiden, I froze. Something pulsed between us, a split-second heat that had nothing to do with the fire blazing just behind me.
Stupid.
My breathing slowly steadies as I move farther away from the gathering.
I’m still painfully aware of every slam of my heart against my ribs.
But even with the shock of encountering Aiden, I wouldn’t change my decision to dance tonight.
How could I turn down the woman who helped me reclaim not just my confidence and my self-esteem but ownership over my own body?
The shrill ring of a phone at five o’clock this morning sent fear rushing through me when I saw Jessica King’s name on the screen, the owner of Cirque Obsidian.
But when I’d answered, her excitement burst through the phone as she informed me her sister had gone into labor a month early and they were en route to the hospital.
With her brother-in-law deployed overseas and her parents living in Oregon, Jessica was going to be her sister’s birthing partner.
Which had left the Hudson Springs Botanical Gardens without a fire dancer for their luxurious gala.
With Jessica’s other fire dancers performing back in the city, there had been no one left to perform.
Even as nerves fluttered like butterflies in my stomach, I already knew my answer.
It was Jessica who helped me take those first steps toward reclaiming myself after years of living under Brett Sinclair’s thumb.
After I finally mustered the courage to leave him, fleeing in the dark with nothing but the clothes on my back, I found my way to Grace’s Refuge.
The shelter not only gave me a place to stay while I put my life back together, but when my advocate learned I used to dance before letting Brett pressure me to stop, she introduced me to Jessica.
I can’t imagine my life without Obsidian.
Dancing always makes me feel…sensual. Sexy.
Even though I’d been so nervous to take the stage tonight, I was riding high at the end.
Making eye contact with my hot boss was unexpected.
Any emotions I experienced were one-sided.
Aiden might have appreciated my performance, but there’s no way he felt the same, sudden slam of desire I did.
The man is cool and calculating, even when it comes to the numerous relationships he’s had since I started working for him.
Yet the way he’d sat up, shoulders back, his attention laser-focused on me, had sent a thrilling jolt through me. One quickly followed by a cold, heavy dose of reality that sent me fleeing.
He didn’t recognize you. He didn’t see you.
I repeat the comforting phrases in my mind. I’ve had a slight crush on my boss ever since he hired me. Crush, not love. The last time I thought I was in love, it nearly broke me.
Admiring Aiden, enjoying the sight of his sculpted cheekbones and the tiny dimple that flashes on very rare occasions just above the razor-straight line of his jaw, engaging in intelligent conversations with someone who respects me, are all things I can enjoy while maintaining my distance.
He sees me as a qualified employee, nothing more.
Still, I always call him Mr. Hawke, a small reminder to myself that he’s my boss and very much off-limits.
Besides, I love working for Hawke Financial.
Aiden’s demanding, but fair. He gave me a chance and has continuously given me more intricate and detailed assignments.
I liked what I did at the financial PR firm I worked for before I landed the job at Hawke Financial, but I’ve fallen in love with my role: the research, the numbers, the analyses and trying to predict outcomes of the perpetually changing markets.
Not only do I love my job, but I had planned on asking for Aiden’s help on Monday.
Mona, the director of Grace’s Refuge, sent an email this morning to staff and volunteers letting us know they were looking for a new building.
Their sleazy landlord had doubled their rent with hopes of running them off and selling his property to clamoring developers.
Aiden and his adopted brothers run a foundation that disperses money for causes exactly like this.
But I need to make sure things are okay between us on Monday, confirm that he didn’t recognize me. Once I have that reassurance, I’ll ask about Grace’s Refuge.
I stop underneath the sweeping branches of a willow tree and stare out over the lake.
Given Aiden’s well-known past as a pickpocket during his teenage years, I don’t think he’d care one way or the other what I do with my time outside of work.
But dancing…it’s mine. I wore the brunette wig and mask for me.
I wanted to do this for Jessica, but I’m not ready to share both my dancing and myself.
Not yet. Tonight, however, was still supposed to be a big moment.
Another step in my healing journey, inching closer to finally letting my guard down and maybe, just maybe, working my way up to opening my heart again.
Instead, I nearly dropped my sword and then took off like a coward.
I look up at the night sky, at the smattering of stars scattered across the black.
Sometimes it seems like yesterday when I nearly broke down in the courtroom as a judge found my ex-boyfriend Brett Sinclair guilty of domestic battery, harassment and interstate violation of the restraining order I filed against him, and sentenced him to twenty-five years in prison.
Other days it feels far longer than four years ago, like looking through a foggy mirror and trying to determine if that really happened or if it was just a horrible nightmare.
I breathe in deeply, then slowly exhale.
Brett’s in jail, and will be for years before he’s eligible for parole.
I volunteer at Grace’s once a week, doing what I can to give back to the shelter that opened its doors to me when I was so low I thought there was no way I could claw my way back up.
And now, because of them, I have a thriving career and a passion that’s given me back my confidence, my power.
And there’s the thrill of taking the subway to Bushwick on Wednesday and Saturday nights to practice at Obsidian’s studio inside a converted warehouse, mingling with fellow dancers, trapeze artists and gymnasts.
After living my life to meet someone else’s preferences, the freedom is intoxicating, as is the secrecy.
Should I have told Aiden about Cirque Obsidian? The dancing?
No. Not only is it mine to share, but Aiden has always maintained strict professional boundaries.
Occasionally he’ll ask how my weekend was, but that’s the extent of our personal talk.
What I know of his life outside the office comes from biographies written up in the Wall Street Journal or splashy tabloid photos speculating whether he’s dating this tech entrepreneur or that neurosurgeon.
He doesn’t have an interest in me outside of work, which makes it easy to keep my emotions in check.
I glance out over the water. My crush on Aiden isn’t just because of his long, sculpted face or deep-set brown eyes.
His intelligence, his commitment to the firm he built, the cool respect he gives everyone in equal measure, are what keep me in a slight state of awe.
That and how he talks to me like I’m his equal, how he asks for my insight and trusts my opinions on his clients, their motivations.
No one’s ever valued my opinion as much as one of the wealthiest hedge fund founders and most respected personal financial advisors in the world.
Although, I admit with a small smile as I resume walking, him being sexy as hell certainly doesn’t hurt. I only dated a couple guys before I became involved with Brett. None of them had the same commanding presence, the same sheer force when they simply walked into a room, as Aiden Hawke does.
I don’t know why he’s here. It was definitely not on his calendar when I left work yesterday. Maybe he’s here on a date.
Which is none of your concern, I remind myself firmly even as my stomach sinks.
I glance back over my shoulder. The fire ring burns brightly in the darkness, but I must have walked nearly a quarter of a mile.
The music is faint, overridden by the chorus of frogs and occasional trill of a night bird.
Moonlight sparkles on the water of the lake.
A light summer breeze brushes over my skin.
I have one dance left, and then I’m done. I’m not looking forward to the long drive home, but there will be a glass of wine and my current book waiting for me.
A twig snaps in the darkness. Fear explodes inside me, takes over and roots my feet to the ground. My breathing quickens as my heart pounds against my chest in painful thuds.
Probably a guest. Maybe a couple sneaking away for a kiss. But there’s no murmured voices, no dim glow of a phone or flashlight.
The past rears up. Brett, eyes hard and furious, a bottle in his hand as he raises it above his head. A soft whimper rises to my lips.
Steady, Seraphina.