The Price of His Redemption

Yes, she had begged for extra lessons, for private tuition, and the business had, of course, funded that, but did it mean she now had to work for him, doing something she didn’t love?

Had it all been conditional on her making it to number one for their investment in her to count?

Couldn’t she just love what she did?

Coming out of the underground her phone rang and Libby saw that it was her father. She would have preferred not to have answered but given his accident yesterday she felt she ought to. ‘How are you this morning?’ Libby asked.

‘Pretty bruised,’ Lindsey said. ‘Did you get anywhere at all with Zverev?’

‘Nowhere,’ she answered. Well, yes, technically she lied, but she was hardly going to let her father know just how far she’d actually gone! ‘Dad, I think you’ve just got to accept that he isn’t going to go...’

‘But—’

‘It’s not up to us to persuade him, Dad,’ Libby said, and she was firmer than she usually was with him. ‘And if your entire business is reliant on him attending then I think you’ve got bigger things that need to be faced.’

‘Elizabeth!’

‘Well, it’s true,’ she said.

‘If things go well with this then I’ll be back in the game. And if you came on board...’

She closed her eyes as the same old argument was raised. They had never taken her dancing seriously, they had considered it a phase, an expensive hobby that they had indulged her in, and now it was time to pay them back.

‘Libby, what are you doing, looking at dance schools when you’re needed here? We’ve done all we can to support your dancing but clearly it hasn’t worked out...’

The tiny paper cuts her family delivered over and over hurt.

Okay, maybe she hadn’t made it to the top, maybe she’d never been cut out to be a soloist, but didn’t any of her career count to them?

‘Dancing still is my career.’

‘Even when your family needs you? Look, if you can’t help us out there then at least go and speak with Zverev again...use your charm, smile that smile.’

Now at least he was being a little more honest, though it had taken Daniil to get her to fully see that her father had been hoping that a woman might make more headway with Daniil than he could.

‘It’s not going to happen, Dad—I shan’t be seeing Daniil again. So maybe you should contact the Thomases and let them know that their son isn’t going to be attending their anniversary celebration.’

Libby turned off the phone and got back to daydreaming about Daniil and trying to fathom how at twenty-five she’d possibly already had the best night of her life.

His little pep talk about business, however unwelcome at the time, did help today though.

The first studio she saw was perfect! There were huge mirrored walls and the floor space was amazing. There was a small kitchenette, a nice-size changing room...

‘What happened to the last business?’ Libby asked.

‘I’m not sure.’ The agent was evasive. ‘I think she retired.’

Hmm.

Back to the Land of Daniil she went and met with the second agent.

This studio was smaller but the floor space was enough and there was also a little waiting area that hopefully she could lock the parents into so they didn’t interfere!

‘What happened to the last business?’ Libby asked.

‘Yoga,’ the agent said. ‘They moved to new premises, a converted warehouse, as they needed more space.’

Oh, it made sense to go there, but the bank wasn’t going to listen to her, Libby was sure.

‘I’ve got another woman coming for a second look tomorrow,’ the agent said. ‘She’s very keen.’

Libby shrugged but her heart leaped in her throat.

She wanted this place very badly.

She thanked the agent and he locked up and got into his car and she stood awhile longer, peering through the window, desperate for her dream to live here.

‘Well?’

She jumped at the sound of that gorgeous, low, chocolaty voice.

‘Daniil!’ She turned and gave him a wide smile. ‘Shouldn’t you be at work?’

‘I have been,’ he said, and then handed her a large creamy envelope with the Zverev name embossed in gold on the corner. ‘This is for you.’

‘Oh, God, did you mark my performance last night?’ she exclaimed. ‘Did my knees crack...?’

She made herself laugh but he didn’t join her. ‘It was a joke...’ she started, but then her voice trailed off as she opened the envelope and read what was written.