Kissing the Debutant (The Dangers of Dating a Diva Book 3) Read online

  “No, no, no. Pause.” The mother kicked her shoes off. “Run through the positions with me.”

  “Mom, you’ve barely let me get anything done.”

  “First position.” Her mother clapped as Lillian moved into the pose beside her, turning her feet out at a ninety degree rotation from the hip. They were identical, but the movement looked painful to Jack. Lillian and her mother stood with textbook precision. He knew enough about ballet to know most dancers would pay a great deal of money to have the kind of perfect feet Lillian seemed to have naturally.

  He watched as she moved through the four key feet positions and five graceful arm movements.

  “Plié,” her mother barked orders like a drill sergeant.

  Lillian dropped her torso into a graceful bend, her feet flat on the ground with her knees pointed outward in line with her toes. Her mother couldn’t ask for more. Lillian was technically flawless. She just needed a little life in her choreography.

  “Good, good. Now run through your practice routine. We don’t have much time left, but I’ll make a list of everything you need to work on.”

  “Fine.” Lillian moved to her phone to turn up the music.

  Jack recognized Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty. It was Katrina’s favorite ballet—one of the most challenging roles for any seasoned ballerina. That it was Lillian’s practice piece told him she was the real deal.

  The old school classic dance wasn’t really his thing, but Jack couldn’t take his eyes off Lillian as she moved through the complicated dance, making it look effortless. He watched her push away all distractions along with her mother’s criticism. Lillian was lost to the movement of her body. She loved it. No one danced like that if they didn’t love it. He just wondered how she handled the intense pressure.

  The mother barely watched, choosing to scribble notes on the pad resting on her knee instead.

  A flash of anger coursed through Jack as he listened to Lillian’s mother critique her every move, giving her a laundry list of technical elements to work on.

  “Mom, you aren’t my coach.” Lillian finally spoke up for herself. “We’ve tried that, and it makes us both crazy.”

  “I know. I’m just trying to help you, dear. Your audition for ABC is coming up in a few months. You need to be ready. The American Ballet Company is the most prestigious ballet company in the world—"

  “But it’s not the only one, Mom. I know that’s what you want more than anything, but I get to decide my future.”

  This sounded like a tired argument, and Jack realized he probably shouldn’t be listening.

  “I’m doing a competition,” Lillian blurted.

  “What? That’s wonderful, Lillian.” Her mother’s face lit up with a brilliant smile. “I haven’t been able to get you excited about a competition in a long time. Which is it? The Youth America Grand Prix? I could get you into a few workshops to prepare.”

  “It’s the Northeast Regional Scholarship for the Dramatic Arts. Tons of colleges will be there. It’s very competitive.

  “Darling, you don’t need a scholarship.” Her mother frowned as if she’d smelled something bad. “I don’t understand. Is this some sort of rebellion?”

  “It’s supposed to be fun, Mom. A chance to meet recruiters from some of the best performance colleges in the country.”

  “We’ve talked about this, Lillian, a secular school at your age will only rob you of your best dance years. You can do the college thing after you retire.”

  “I just want to try it, Mom. I’m not saying no to ABC or any of the prestigious companies across the world, but I want to explore all my options.”

  “Let me check into this competition, and we’ll see, dear. At the very least it will help you get back into the competitive mindset before your more important auditions later this year.”

  “I need a new routine,” Lillian said. “Something a little younger and more modern than Coach Kozlovsky would create.

  Lillian’s mother frowned, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Very well. I will put some feelers out, but I doubt we’ll get anyone worthwhile on such short notice.”

  “Katrina has been helping me—"

  “Absolutely not. My daughter will only have the best. Even if it is modern choreography.”

  “Just, get someone with a personality this time,” Lillian said.

  “All right, but we’re not done talking about this odd interest in college. You’ve got a half hour left. I’ll get out of your hair so you can make it count. I’ll call you when I get back to Lexington.” Her mother gathered her purse and turned to leave without really saying goodbye to her daughter. Jack couldn’t imagine not living with his mom, but if he did, there was no way she wouldn’t hug him half to death every chance she got.

  “Bye, Mom.” Lillian seemed relieved to see the back of her mother.

  She immediately returned to her practice, her feet moving quickly into a series of échappés en pointe. It made his toes hurt just watching her. She was in dire need of some updated choreography if she was going to have a chance with this kind of competition. The judges would be looking for creativity, and he had just the kind of creativity she needed.

  Jack glanced back down to the project sheet for his class.

  “Don’t do it, Butler,” he murmured to himself. But the hint of plan had already morphed into something he desperately wanted. “It’s a really bad idea, dude.” She would tear his face off just for suggesting it.

  “You can come out now,” Lillian said in a defeated voice.

  Jack peeked through the curtain, feeling guilty for spying on the mother-daughter practice session. “Sorry, didn’t realize you knew I was back here.”

  “Whatever. I’m leaving in a minute, so you can lock up.” She sank to the floor, removing her ballet slippers. “Today was a wash, so I’ll just put in more time tomorrow.”

  “So…” Jack shoved his way through the curtain. “It sounds like you need a new choreographer.” He leaned against the mirrored wall behind Lillian. “Something modern with a little kick of creativity, right?”

  “Why, you know someone?” She scoffed.

  Jack moved to sit across from her. “I’ll do it. I’ll help you win your competition if you’ll return the favor.”

  “What, you have a dance competition you need help with?” She shook her head like it was some kind of joke that he’d need her help with anything.

  “Sort of. I need you to dance with me.”

  5

  Lillian

  Lillian had never lacked for intelligence, but when those words left Jack’s lips, she couldn’t think of a single smart thing to say.

  Was no too simple?

  How about heck no?

  She stared at him, taking in his shy, hopeful smile and also the nervousness in the way he twisted his hands together. What did a janitor know about dance?

  Stepping back away from him, she couldn’t think. Lillian lived around kids her age at the academy, but she’d never quite figured them out. Wylder had a confidence she couldn’t understand, an “I don’t care what you think” attitude, and talked to her as if the very act wasn’t unusual.

  And now Jack.

  What did these kids want from her?

  From early on in life, she’d learned nothing came free. Not her mother’s affections or the envy of the social circles in Lexington. There was no friendship without ulterior motives, no equal relationships.

  All she could rely on was herself, the truths only she knew. Lillian was a dancer, but what if she didn’t want to be a dancer? What if she wanted to dance without the pressure, without the expectations?

  And this boy wanted her to dance with him.

  When her thoughts finally calmed, she narrowed her eyes in distrust. “What do you mean dance with you?”

  He sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, so I have this project for my videography class. We’re supposed to create a documentary about something we love. Well…” He spread his hands as if what he loved
was obvious.

  But Lillian wasn’t a mind reader. “I still don’t understand.”

  “Dance.” One corner of his mouth ticked up. “I want to make mine about dance.”

  There was something so hopeful in his eyes, so earnest, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. Talking to people wasn’t exactly a talent of hers. “Uh, okay?” She could hear her mother’s chastisement for uttering monosyllabic nonsense.

  “I don’t quite know what I’ll do yet or how I’ll do this, but I need a female dancer, and you’re the best I know.”

  She hugged her arms across her chest. “But you don’t know me.”

  “Of course I do. You’re Lillian Preston, my cousin’s star pupil.”

  “I’m not her star pupil.” Lillian knew how that sounded, like she didn’t think she was good enough to be a star, but voicing her true meaning would have sounded arrogant even to her. Lillian’s mother was right. Despite being in her class, there was little Katrina could teach her. Lillian was already a better dancer, and would likely have a much more successful dancing career. She wasn’t anyone’s pupil, but she was a star.

  “Sure you are.” Jack stepped toward her. “You’ve been dancing here for years now. I’ve seen you. When you’re in this studio, no one can watch anyone else.”

  Lillian stared down at her feet, not quite sure how she felt about Jack watching her. She’d never been comfortable with praise because she’d grown up with her mother’s constant constructive criticism—as she called it. Most of the time, it just felt like plain old criticism.

  But even if Jack’s story about his school project was true, and he needed her to dance with him, what made him think he could choreograph a competition level dance?

  The longer she stayed silent, the more his smile fell. Not everyone was as comfortable not speaking as a girl who grew up in a quiet house without yelling or laughter or chatter over the dinner table.

  “Look.” Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m a little desperate here. I don’t want the video to be about me dancing, but me dancing with someone else. If you say no, I’m going to have to ask my little sister. Sure, at five years old she’ll be easy to lift, but something tells me our size differences might make things a little awkward.” A grin slid across his face.

  Lillian wanted to smile like him, she wanted his endearing talk about his sister to pull her toward him and make her agree. As she studied him, she realized no matter his skill, dancing with him could actually be fun. Real, honest to goodness fun.

  But dance wasn’t about having fun.

  She turned away from him and started gathering her things.

  “Wait, where are you going?” He jogged after her as she walked toward the door.

  “Back to school.” Where else would she go?

  “But you haven’t answered me.”

  She stopped at the front door and stared out into the dark parking lot. “I can’t dance with you, Jack.”

  “Why not?”

  She sighed. “Because you’re the janitor.”

  She waited for him to respond, to yell or argue, but there was only silence behind her. Chancing a glance over her shoulder, she took in the hard set of his jaw, the way his eyes had so quickly gone from excitement to anger.

  “So what if I am?”

  She knew nothing about this boy except his name and that he had a little sister. “Can you even dance?”

  “I guess you won’t find out, right?” There was ice in his voice where there’d been none before.

  “I can’t afford to. This competition is a big deal. I’m going to win it, but not with a high school boy who fashions himself a choreographer. And I don’t have time for dance projects that won’t further my career.”

  “Your career? Is that all you care about? Getting into a prissy ballet company and becoming a miserable woman who yells at her own daughter?”

  Her back went rigid. She knew how people saw her mother outside of Lexington. At home, she was the center of social life, but here in small-town Ohio, she was a miserable shrew they couldn’t understand. “You know nothing about my mother.”

  “I know she treats you like a doll, making you turn this way and that, repeating the moves if they’re anything less than perfect. You’re not a doll, Lillian. You’re a real girl, and you don’t deserve that. I can help you show her what you can do.”

  The need to defend her mother rose in her. She was harsh, yes, but she was also all Lillian had since her dad died when she was a kid. There were no siblings helping her carry the weight of her mother’s dreams, nor even any aunts or cousins. They were a family of two, and family obeyed. At least, that was what her mother always told her.

  “My mother is going to make me into a better ballerina.” Her voice was tight.

  “And you want that? To be a ballerina? There is more to dance than ballet.”

  She knew that all too well. For years, she’d pleaded with her mother to let her take other kinds of dance classes, but to be the best, one had to have focus.

  And Lillian was going to be the best. “I don’t need dance advice from a public school kid, someone who cleans the studio I train in. I work hard, and I don’t need your little project derailing that.” She turned away from him and pushed open the front door. “Good luck with your sister.”

  He didn’t follow her out into the parking lot, but she hadn’t expected him to. She hated how cold her voice had sounded, how like her mother’s. When had she turned into her?

  And how did she make it stop?

  By the time the Uber pulled up to the dance studio, Jack had left. Lillian stood from the curb. Going back to school right now would be the smart thing to do, and normally the only thing to do, but the thought of being around other students after her mother’s visit didn’t appeal. She could imagine Wylder barging into her room to ask about the dresses or Devyn giving her an understanding smile.

  Those girls weren’t her friends, only her neighbors. At least, Lillian thought so. She’d never been good at reading people or what they were thinking.

  So, instead of obeying the Academy’s rules and returning promptly after training, she had the Uber take her to the Main just down the street. It was the hub of Twin Rivers. The diner’s owners, the Callahans, were the town’s royal family of sorts. Aside from owning the diner, they gained notoriety when one of their sons drove a car full of teenage boys off a bridge into the river, killing himself, and ending the Olympic dreams of one of the others.

  Their daughter, Peyton, was a student at MIT.

  But it was their second son who really put the family on the throne. Julian Callahan was one of three famous people to come from Twin Rivers. His claim to fame? Romance novels, most of which he wrote right in the diner.

  Lillian walked through the front door in dire need of just smelling the kind of food her mother would yell at her for even thinking about eating. It was a rebellion even setting foot in a diner. She was bad to the bone. Shaking her head, she laughed at herself, feeling as if her mother could see her.

  In the back corner of the diner, the bestselling author himself hunched over his laptop, the dark hair on his head askew like he’d run his hand through it in agitation.

  “Hey, sweetie.” A kind-looking woman wearing a dingy apron walked toward her. Lillian had seen her before. She was the type of woman who called everyone sweetie, as if she truly believed anyone could be sweet. “Are you looking for someone?”

  Lillian tore her eyes from Julian and met the sincere gaze of the waitress. She looked maybe forty with tired, yet somehow still bright eyes. The only thing Lillian knew about her was she wasn’t a Callahan.

  Her nametag read Cara.

  “No.” Lillian looked down at her hands. “I’m here on my own.”

  “Well, in that case, honey, I have the perfect table for you.” She smiled before leading her toward a booth that looked no different from any other. The red vinyl seat peeled and cracked, but the table was clean. “Have a seat. Now, you look li
ke you could use a milkshake. Let me guess, strawberry?”

  Lillian nodded. She couldn’t remember the last time she had anything with real ice cream and not the low fat, soy stuff she splurged on every now and then. “And maybe a cheeseburger and fries?”

  “You got it.” Her smile reached all the way to her eyes. “I’m Cara by the way. I’m so glad you’re here tonight.”

  As she walked away, Lillian wondered if she truly was glad to see a stranger, or if it was just something she said. Certain people just had a knack for making anyone feel welcome.

  Lillian had just never met one until now.

  Only a few customers sat in various booths, most had cleared out at this hour. The Main had always been open twenty-four hours as a haven for anyone who didn’t have anywhere to go. She wondered if that basically meant it was an eatery for drunk college kids who were awake in the middle of the night.

  Julian stood from his booth and slid his laptop into his bag as a tall blond walked through the door. She gave him a long kiss, but it was the smile they shared Lillian couldn’t get out of her head. Like they had a secret no one else knew. Love. Maybe that was the secret.

  Mrs. Callahan walked out from the kitchen and wrapped her son and the girl in a tight hug like she didn’t want them to leave even though they all lived in the same town. Was that what other families were like?

  Lillian tried to recall the last time her mother hugged her or hesitated before leaving her in the care of her boarding school. Most of the academy kids came from wealthy and influential families. They looked down on the public school kids, but she wondered what the public school kids truly thought of them.

  Did they pity them as well as hate them?

  Cara returned, balancing a plate on one hand and gripping a milkshake with the other. She set them both on the table, and Lillian tore her eyes away from the happy family to stare at the horrible food in front of her.