Alec
Essence set down the card after staring at it for a full minute. That settled it. She understood nothing at all about anything. Why would her bosses’ client send her roses because she fell at his house? Why would he want to meet with her? Did he think she was about to sue him? And what was with the quote from Madeleine L’Engle? The woman had been her favorite author when she’d been about twelve. Science fiction and fantasy novels had gotten her through the long hours of her childhood when dance hadn’t been enough.
She’d never known a man to read L’Engle’s books. Of course, she hadn’t had that many conversations about L’Engle with men to judge. The subject hadn’t come up in college. She sat down in her chair, which nearly toppled over. She weighed ninety pounds. It couldn’t be because she was heavy. When she felt better, Essence would have to take out her screwdriver and get to fixing it.
Le Grande Jette? It was fancy, even by New York City standards. Although, lately in Manhattan the trend tended to be casual. Or so she’d been told. She couldn’t afford to eat out much. Casual still meant expensive clothes and going out in one of her business suits—all two of them—didn’t appeal to her very much.
She’d never expected to eat at that restaurant ever in her life.
Even beyond the L’Engle oddity, what had the rest of the note meant? Why wouldn’t she want to be alone with him? Because she’d fallen? She remembered very little. Was it possible he pushed her? No, she doubted that. Why would he bother?
She rubbed her aching head. The smart thing to do would be to tell the partners and not show up. Of course, they had no way of getting in touch with him except for sending someone up there. Then, he’d be there sitting at the table alone. Unless they sent someone to the restaurant.
Essence groaned. She needed a nap and to think things through after she got one. What would she even wear? She owned one black dress and it was terribly out of style. On her best days, she’d never been fashionable. Essence always preferred wearing a ballet leotard over anything else. Her extra time had always been spent dancing.
Answers about what to do would come later.
She rose, a smile on her face. He’d sent her roses. She might never get any for the rest of her life. Still, she’d gotten them today, and they certainly brightened up the apartment.
Crossing the small distance, she got in her bed and closed her eyes. Sleep came easily, which was unusual, but considering all of the pain killers she was on she shouldn’t be surprised. They always drained the heck out of her.
Her dreams were lucid. She knew she was asleep and felt more like a passenger than an active participant in what happened around her. As per usual, she sat watching the ballet, her hand embraced by the man sitting next to her.
Alec…
In the dream, Essence gasped. She’d made the man next to her the client from the house where she’d fallen. Well, he was really handsome, if a bit scary. She supposed he would do. The music surrounded them, and it moved through her. The dancers were extraordinarily beautiful. She’d never learned to dance, despite her upbringing where ladies learned the arts as a rule instead of anything else.
Her Papa hadn’t approved of dancing. It gave people the wrong idea. She didn’t know about that. Lots of things made her think about sex. Ballet wasn’t one of them. Ballet made her think about beauty.
Alec leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You’re enjoying yourself.”
“Very much.” This ballet would be a hit. It would change the composer’s life, she just knew it. “I’ve almost forgotten the disaster in Spain.” They spoke in whispers, much too low for the humans around them to hear.
He groaned, kissing her cheek. “I thought you had forgiven me for that.”
“Maybe someday. Until then, I reserve the right to be resentful about how our romantic evening ended.”
Being chased by hunters and ending up having to hide in a whore house for the rest of the night was not her definition of a good time. Whenever they were with the council, things went horribly wrong. She didn’t understand why Alec continued to insist on going to the meetings. She cared not one whit about what the rest of the vampire world did. She only wanted her love and everyone else could go to hell.
But tonight was perfect. And nothing would ruin it.
Except for her constant need to feed. It was from the run from the hunters. It had reawakened the instincts she’d worked so hard to be rid of.
Alec must have known. Somehow he always did. He wrapped his arm around her, shielding her from the world when they left the performance. “A few moments longer, my love. I’ve fed for both of us.”