the ballet, she’d stuffed thoughts of that night down so far that they exploded back like matter packed too densely in space.
But, every so often, her mind drifted to kissing Charlie at sunset, away from the crowd. It was the craziest thing she’d ever done—kissing a stranger. She couldn’t get the feeling of his lips on hers out of her head. It was as though he’d stamped an impression on her, an invisible tattoo of his effect on her. Her entire life up until that point had been about discipline, training, dieting, and taking in criticism. She’d been a changeling at the behest of everyone in her life, and she knew that she could never let anyone know what was underneath her exterior. But there was something about the way he’d looked at her that had penetrated the wall she’d built around herself to avoid the pain of feeling she was never quite good enough, never quite the best. The feeling of his gaze on her skin—the feeling of him really looking at her—lingered along with the imprint of his mouth.
Either that, or she’d been so addled from the champagne toasts and tropical drinks that she’d lost her ever-loving mind. Crazy was the only thing that could explain how she ended up married to a sleazy reality TV producer who was once taped railing drunkenly about “bitches always breaking his heart.” She didn’t care that he was friends with her cousin and her cousin’s husband. Well, technically, their employer—he produced an apparently non-sleazy reality travel show featuring her cousin, Carla, and Carla’s new husband.
And he hadn’t seemed like a slime ball at all when she’d seen him at the bar. But she’d married him. What the fuck was wrong with her?
Laura stood up and paced her dressing room, trying to figure out how to get out of this mess. She clenched her jaw. No one could find out she was married. If they did—if there was any hint that she was settling down—rumors would start flying that she was about to retire. Every time a principal dancer got married or pregnant, glee was a palpable thing in the rest of the company. Inevitably, a family and a serious career in ballet were untenable. At 28, she really should start considering leaving. The aches and pains that had annoyed her at 18 were nearly debilitating now. Most mornings, she had a hard time getting out of bed.
Nothing like waking up with Charlie—there she was warm and content. A totally foreign sensation.
An image of waking up in Charlie’s arms, fully clothed, and cocooned in his warmth and the tropical breeze sent a shiver down her spine. And, even intensely hung over, she’d liked it. She shook her head.
If anyone in the ballet found out she had gotten married, the piranhas in the corps de ballet would start circling for her principal dancer position. And her chance to move to the New York City Ballet—to get a few years in the brightest spotlight in the world before retiring—would evaporate before they even came close to fruition.
“You can’t tell anyone.”
Her grandfather shook his head, not meeting her gaze. “Of course not.” He would keep his promise because her getting married while drunk on tropical beverages and the romance of Carla’s wedding to himself because it was embarrassing to the whole family.
He didn’t say anything else, but his cheek twitched. Although he’d been around her a lot growing up, her grandfather was a cipher. She had very little idea of what went on in his head, or in his personal life. Her grandfather expressing an emotion would be almost as shocking as her father telling her he was proud of her or showing up to her parents’ house and finding her mother sober.
Rogelio had moved to Florida with his two kids thirty-five years ago and rarely spoke of the wife he’d left behind. Since her Grandma Lola had moved to the States, she could see why her grandfather had never moved on. Lola was a force of nature who changed everything she touched.
She could tell that this situation was awkward for him. He’d seemed to inch toward the door after delivering the news. And all she had were feelings right now; disgust at herself, anger at the situation, and most of all—fear. “Seriously, no one.”
“I’m required by law to keep our conversations confidential.” Always the rule-follower, her grandfather. She got that from him, thriving on rules and routines rather than transient things like love. Though she’d been worried the return of her Grandma Lola would throw off the carefully balanced silence her family had come to over the years, apparently his ex-wife’s return hadn’t affected him at all.
“That’s good.” She turned away from himself. “Well, I guess you should file for an extension, abuelo.”
* * * *
Charlie’s back ached and his eyes burned. He’d spent over twelve hours in the editing room, making sure that the footage from Jonah and Carla’s wedding looked just right.
Officially, they hadn’t shot any of the intimate moments—the actual ceremony or the preparations, but they’d tied in part of the wedding to the shoot they were doing on different parts of the island.
But, for most of the night, until he’d gotten swept up with some very potent tropical drinks and Carla’s fetching cousin, he’d gotten some footage of the whole family celebrating his best friend and his lovely bride. Carla and Jonah hadn’t planned to have the whole family at their wedding; they’d planned to elope. But Charlie had not-so-accidentally let the cat out of the bag to Carla’s great aunt, Lola, who had informed the entire Hernandez clan, which immediately threw them into action.
Carla and Jonah hadn’t wanted to deal with the fuss of a big wedding, but now that his friend was finally happy, they deserved to have their family with them for their wedding. Charlie imagined that some military campaigns weren’t carried out with the same precision as Molly Hernandez’s wedding plans.
Charlie wasn’t a stranger to big families—he had five brothers—but the Hernandez extended family made him feel alone even as they’d sort of folded him into the group. All of his brothers seemed happy doing their parts in the family business—television—enjoying all the wealth that came with it. They enjoyed the approval of their father.
Unlike him.
During his twenties, he and his father had butted heads so often over the shows Charlie brought into the network that every day had felt like a battle. And then, right after his very short marriage to his college girlfriend—which was an anathema in his family—had ended in her telling TMZ and the world that she’d left him because he was terrible in bed. Depressed, he’d posted a YouTube video of himself talking about how all women sucked. The video had gone viral, and he’d embarrassed his family. Even worse, he’d committed the cardinal sin in his family—he’d become part of the news cycle instead of dictating the news cycle from behind the scenes. The final blow had become when he’d been fired from the family business. He’d earned his reputation as a misogynist asshole with that video, and he’d tried to do penance since. He’d struck out on his own, and gotten out of the public eye. He regretted the distance between him and his family, but he was done being the family fuck up.
And despite the shadow of his shady past, he was happy with his life, or at least, he pretended to be. But in the past year or so, since Jonah had settled down, Charlie found himself wanting more. He wanted more than someone who assumed he was still that guy in the video. Someone who looked at him the way Carla looked at Jonah.
He didn’t begrudge Jonah’s happiness. His friend had had a long road to finding contentment with his wife and baby Layla; his college football career had ended abruptly and tragically after both his mother and girlfriend passed away. But Charlie couldn’t help the pang of longing he felt whenever he was around Jonah and Carla.
Even though he’d been on a date almost every Saturday this year, Charlie had been having no luck finding someone who fit him as a long-term partner. Women either wanted him because they thought he would put them on TV, or they didn’t take him seriously because he was a reality television producer. He made fluff. Too bad he was mostly attracted to women who thought the latter and never took the time to get to know him beyond the surface.
Women like Laura Delgado.
He rewound the footage until he saw her. His dick got hard just