Chapter 19: Chapter 19

I can’t focus on the rehearsal, and halfway through, I hold a hand in the air and say, “Everyone go home. Come in an hour earlier tomorrow.”

Mrs. Stafford gets up from where she’s sitting and heads in my direction.

When she stops near me, I mutter, “Go home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“I just want to apologize again. I should’ve handled the situation better. It won’t happen again.”

I take my phone out to show her she’s dismissed and press dial on Eden’s number.

It rings longer than usual before Eden answers, “Hi.”

“Come to the auditorium.”

“Okay.”

While I wait, I think about how many times I saw Eden cleaning, and not once did I recognize her. Upset with myself, I stare at the empty stage.

Now, it makes sense how she managed to evade me after dancing.

When she comes into the auditorium via the side door, I stand up and move out of the aisle. Taking the steps down, I meet her in front of the stage.

I reach for the cap and take it off her head. Wrapping my fingers around the back of her neck, I lean down and press a tender kiss to her mouth.

When I pull back, my lock eyes with hers. “None of the we-come-from-different-worlds-shit matters to me. I want you exactly as you are, Eden.”

The fight has left her eyes, and when a tear sneaks down her cheek, I brush it away with my thumb.

“I just don’t want to embarrass you,” she admits.

“You can never do that.”

“People will talk,” she whispers.

“I don’t care what other people think. I only care about us,” I assure her.

She stares at me for a moment before wrapping her arms around my waist and burying her face against my chest.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” she says, her voice hoarse with tears. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“It’s okay. I understand why you were hesitant to tell me.”

It’s the same reason I haven’t told her about the Cosa Nostra. I’d be a hypocrite if I held it against her.

I can only hope she’ll show me the same understanding when I tell her I’m a mafia boss.

I rub my hand up and down her back a few times before I take hold of her jaw and nudge her face up so she’ll look at me.

“I don’t want to hear anything about us ending things again. Okay?”

“Okay.”

I give her a kiss, then ask, “Will you dance for me?”

A smile tugs at her mouth as she nods. “Let me just change clothes.”

“Come with me.” I take her hand, and leading her backstage to where various outfits for the show are standing in rows, I look through them until I find the perfect one for Eden.

“Put this on.”

Her eyes flit between my face and the dress before she takes hold of it.

“I’ll wait in the studio for you.”

Walking away, I suck in a relieved breath of air.

Thank fuck she didn’t keep fighting me on the ‘difference’ thing. I get that it will take time for her to adjust to my lifestyle, and I’ll be as patient as she needs me to be.

Reaching the studio, I shrug my suit jacket off and drop it on one of the chairs before I take a seat. I unbutton the cuffs of my long-sleeve shirt, and roll them up to my elbows while I wait for Eden to come.

Tomorrow, I’ll give Mrs. Stafford a final warning and deal with Vivian. There’s no way she’s dancing for my company after she slapped my woman.

When Eden walks into the studio, wearing a white body suit that’s studded with diamante, my lips curve up. Chiffon falls around her like a cape, gliding around her with every step she takes.

She connects her phone to the speakers, and just like the last time she danced for me, she moves closer to me until she rests her palm against my jaw.

Never Let Me Go by Florence & The Machines begins to fill the air. I turn my face and press a kiss to her palm, and a second later, she’s twirling away from me.

As I watch my woman dance for me, the stress caused by the shitshow a couple of hours ago rolls off my shoulders. My muscles relax, and I get lost in the sparkle of the diamante and the passion she exudes as her body moves across the floor.

As the song comes to an end, I get up and walk to where her phone is lying. I disconnect her device, before connecting my own. Searching for the right song, I press play before I walk to where Eden is standing.

I wrap my arm around her as You’re Still You by Josh Groban begins to play. Slowly, I guide her over the floor, hoping she’s listening to the words.

Her eyes begin to shimmer with unshed tears, and she wraps her arms around my neck, holding me as tight as she can. I keep moving to the beat of the music as I savor the feel of her body against mine.

When the song reaches its climax, I lower my head and kiss her with every ounce of emotion she stirs in my heart.

This woman danced her way right into my heart.

Right now, it feels like I’ve found the one who was always meant for me.

My other half.

At some point we stop dancing, just enjoying the kiss.

When I finally lift my head, a soft smile curves her swollen lips.

“Okay.”

I give her a questioning look. “Okay?”

“You never asked, but okay, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Laughter bursts from me, and I squash her against my chest.

I press a kiss to the top of her head, then say, “As your boss, I’m giving you the rest of the night off.”

She pulls back and shakes her head. “No. Let me do my job. It’s important to me.”

“Then I’ll help so I can spend more time with you.”

She starts to chuckle. “You’re going to help me clean?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” She pulls out of my arms and walks to the door. “I’m just going to change.”

I follow her to the dressing rooms at the back of the stage and watch as she changes back into her clothes.

After she puts on the apron, she picks up the cap and plops it down on top of my head while saying, “Come on. We have a lot to do.”

I follow her to where she left her cart and mutter, “Put me to work.”

“Oh, you’re going to regret saying that,” she teases. She pushes the cart to the auditorium, then orders, “You can vacuum while I polish the stage.”

“Okay.”

Eden shows me how the vacuum cleaner works, and when she’s happy with how I do it, she heads up to the stage.

We keep stealing glances at each other, and when we’re finally done, I get rewarded with a kiss.