“Here’s your burger.”
The waitress approached the table and placed Luke’s dinner in front of him as if she were presenting him with an elaborate Thanksgiving feast. Then, without even glancing in Ellie’s direction, she dropped the plate of lobster in front of her before smiling down at Luke again.
Trying not to roll her eyes, Ellie reached for her fork. The waitress lingered at the table as if she were waiting for Luke to say something more. Instead, he just thanked her and gave her another wink.
Once the waitress left, Ellie finally rolled her eyes.
“What was that for?” Luke said, glancing at her.
“That woman was practically undressing you with her eyes.”
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” she echoed. “God, you’re still as conceited as ever.”
“And you’re still a pest.”
“But a cute pest,” she corrected.
Luke’s gaze briefly lowered to her breasts before returning to her face. “I’ll give you that,” he conceded.
Heat spilled over her cheeks. Had he just checked her out? Or had she imagined him looking at her breasts?
She speared some salad with her fork and chewed on a mouthful of lettuce. What on earth was happening here? Why was she having dinner with Luke?
After he’d left her dressing room last night, she’d been determined to find a way to make him leave. Luke was as stubborn as they came, but even he had his weak spots. She was well aware of the tight-knit friendship between Luke and her brother, and if Josh had called in a favor, Luke wouldn’t hesitate to help out. But she could work around Luke’s loyalty, if she just did something that would make him go running. Riling him up didn’t seem to be working, so she’d need to find another route.
What she couldn’t do was sit here in this restaurant and act like they were two old friends catching up. She didn’t want him to get too comfortable here. She wanted him to go away, plain and simple.
She watched as he took a bite of his burger and wondered what it would take to make him leave. She briefly considered paying him—she had plenty of money left over from her parents’ life insurance settlement—but she knew Luke wouldn’t take her money.
“So, how did you meet Vivian?” He reached for the beer he’d ordered and took a long swig.
“Viv? She’s Tanya’s mother.”
“Tanya…your roommate in college?”
She nodded. “I called Tanya after the—” she swallowed, “—accident. I told her I needed to find work. So she gave me her mom’s number and Viv offered me a job dancing at her club.”
A serious look crossed Luke’s rugged features, and she couldn’t help but admire his handsome face. God, why did he have to be so good-looking? She’d always loved his proud forehead, his strong, defined jaw and wide, sexy mouth. And that dimple in his chin. She’d spent too many nights, back when she was a teenager, thinking about that dimple.
“Are you okay?”
Her cheeks flushed. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“I mean, since the accident. How are you…feeling?”
All the muscles in her body tensed. The way he’d said that, it was almost like he knew about the pregnancy. Anger coursed through her in waves. Had Josh told him about the baby? She’d asked her brother not to breathe a word of it to anyone. The only people who knew she’d been pregnant were Scottie and her brother. Since she’d miscarried, she hadn’t felt it was anyone’s business.
If Josh had told Luke…
“I’m feeling fine,” she snapped.
Luke looked taken aback. “No need to snap at me. I just wanted to know if your foot is all healed.”
Her foot. Relief thawed her anger. Of course, he was referring to the foot she’d broken.
“It’s fine. All better.”
“So why didn’t you return to the ballet company?” Luke said, his voice rough.
A lump of bitterness formed in the back of her throat, making it difficult to breathe. It had taken months for the reality of her situation to sink in, and even now, she still couldn’t believe that she’d never dance ballet again.
For two very smart men, neither Josh nor Luke had figured out that her broken foot had rendered her useless. She’d broken three toes in the accident, as well as her ankle and heel, and torn her Achilles tendon. She’d never be able to dance en pointe again. Sure, she could strut around the stage to jazz, but her ballet career had officially ended the second that drunk driver had collided into her car.
Tears pricked at her eyes, and it was all she could do not to burst into sobs. All she’d ever wanted was to be a ballerina. A prima ballerina. Getting a job as a corps member with the Hartford Ballet Company had been the proudest moment of her life. In a few years, she could have been dancing the lead in Swan Lake. The Nutcracker. She could have lived out her dreams, the dreams her mother had had for her.
But all those dreams had deflated after the accident. Each and every one of them.
“Ballet doesn’t interest me anymore,” she lied, blinking back her tears.