Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
“Oh, we’re just now entering awkward territory?” I arched a brow.
“Point taken.” The asshole bit back a smile. “Go ahead and ask.” Hudson tapped Juniper’s shoulders. “I did my part and got you here, but she can’t say yes if you don’t ask.”
Juniper looked up at him with the kind of trust I’d once given him, and I couldn’t help but melt a little and worry a lot. I knew what Hudson did with trust.
“So, Juniper,” I said, clutching my towel and crouching to her eye level, “what is it you’d like to ask me?”
Her gaze swung to mine, little flecks of copper catching the sunlight, and she took a big breath. “I want you to convince my mom that ballerinas aren’t all horrible people.”
Okay, then. “I’m sorry?”
“She thinks they’re all spoiled rotten, and vicious, and mean”—her head bobbed with every accusation—“and that if I do ballet, I’ll become a stuck-up snot with body issues just like the tourists,” she blurted, her cheeks turning pink. “Not that I think you’re snotty! I know you aren’t.”
“Umm. Thanks?” I stood slowly, my heart sinking at the thought of breaking this little girl’s. “Look, Juniper, I’d love to help you convince your mom, I really would. But as great as she is and as much as she obviously loves you, unless something drastic has changed in the last decade, I have the wrong last name for the job. She’s not . . . overly fond of Rousseaus.”
Caroline had loathed us all, especially my mother.
“No, it’s just your little sister she hates,” Juniper rushed. “Eva, not you.”
Hudson groaned, his eyes sliding shut momentarily.
“Well, that’s comforting to know.” I pressed my lips in a line and fought the irrational urge to laugh, something I hadn’t done in months. “Eva can be an acquired taste. Either way, I’m afraid that I’m the wrong person to ask. You’d have far better luck picking a dancer from a local family to help you convince her. And you probably need a towel.” I aimed that last part at Hudson, backing up a step and preparing to turn toward the house. Anne was due back from her appointment any minute, and she’d freak if she knew I’d been in the ocean alone without a wet suit.
“I’m used to—” he started.
“No, it has to be you!” Juniper shouted at me, panic pitching her voice higher as she broke away from Hudson. “You’re the only one she’ll listen to! Not just because you’re the best, or the nicest, but because if you tell her I should dance, she’ll let me! She’ll have to!” Each word grew more frantic until she was practically shouting.
“I don’t have that kind of power,” I said gently.
“Just listen to me!” she begged. “Someone has to listen to me!”
An ache bloomed in my chest, pressing tight against my ribs. How many times had I wanted to scream the very same thing?
“Juniper,” Hudson lectured softly, but the girl lifted her chin in the air and marched toward me.
“I’m listening,” I assured her. “Why are you so certain your mom cares what I think?”
Juniper swallowed and glanced back at Hudson, who looked as confused as I felt, then locked her big brown eyes on me. “Because”—she straightened her shoulders—“you’re my biological mother.”
Chapter Six
Allie
Bright2Lit: The genes in this family are phenomenal. RousseauSisters4 are you born in pointe shoes, or what?
Biological what?
I stared at Juniper, then leaned in a little, certain I’d misheard her. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ve watched all your tapes,” she blurted, her words tripping over each other. “We move the same. We look alike. We have the same color hair and eyes, and the same birthmark!” Juniper spun, turning her back to me and lifting her hair to reveal a stork bite at the nape of her neck.
Just like mine.
Strangling my towel, I looked up at Hudson, who was busy staring at his niece like she’d grown another head. Guess this was news to him too.
“Juniper—” I started.
“Don’t deny it!” she begged, her lower lip quivering before she bit into it again. “You’re my mother. I know you are. It’s why I love ballet so much. It’s in my—our genes.” Her eyes watered.
Oh God, she was going to cry. How the hell was I supposed to let her down easily? “It’s just that I—”
“We have the same smile, and the same hands,” she interrupted, wiggling her hands my direction. “And I know you’re probably surprised to see me, and I shouldn’t have ambushed you, but you’re my last chance.”
“But I’ve never—” I tried again.
“Look, I can prove it!” She shook off her backpack, dropping it to the lawn. “I took a DNA test, and all you have to do is take the same one—”
“You what?” Hudson moved to my side and glared down at his niece.
“I took a DNA test, naturally.” Her forehead crinkled like we were the illogical ones here, impervious to the look her uncle unleashed on her.