It didn’t take long to find her.
Dressed in a rather revealing silver dress, she was in a corner laughing with her male dancer friend, batting her eyes as he handed her a drink.
“Excuse me, sir?” Someone tapped me on the shoulder.
“Yes?” I kept my eyes on Aubrey.
“Um, if you stay for the after-portion of the event, you have to donate…It’s part of the rules. It was written in bold so—”
“Here.” I handed her whatever bills were left in my wallet.
She disappeared.
Aubrey’s friend kissed her forehead and stepped away, giving me the perfect opportunity to approach, but she was swarmed by a group of other ballerinas.
Friends, it seemed.
I waited for their conversation to end, until she told them she’d join them later, and then I made my move.
As she turned around, I placed my hand on her shoulder--feeling a jolt shoot through my veins. “Good evening, Aubrey…”
She dropped her glass to the floor and slowly turned around.
“Andrew?” She stepped back. “What are you doing here?”
“Does it matter?”
She didn’t answer.
Neither of us said anything further, and that familiar tension that had always existed between us began to thicken with every second that passed.
She looked even more beautiful up close, and I was tempted to push her against the wall and reconnect, but I held back.
“Can I speak with you?” I asked.
She looked me up and down.
“Aubrey…” I looked into her eyes. “Can I speak with you?”
“No.”
“Excuse me?” I raised my eyebrow.
“I said no.” She crossed her arms. “As in, no you may not speak with me, and you can go back to wherever the hell you came from.”
She walked away and headed to the dance floor.
I sighed and went after her, clasping her hand and spinning her around. “It’ll only take five minutes.”
“That’s five more than I’m willing to give you.”
“It’s important.”
“Are you dying?” Her face turned red. “Is it a life or death matter?”
“Does it really have to be?” My hand caressed her cheek, temporarily silencing her. “You look f**king beautiful tonight…”
“Thank you. My boyfriend thinks so, too.”