The Hookup Handbook(28)
Ryder laughs, ducking out of the line of fire. “Do you have a pair of scissors I can borrow? I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing that beats paper,” Ryder teases. “And unlike some guys around here, I’m not having any trouble with rock, if you know what I mean.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and gestures to his crotch.
Shit. Bad move, Ryd.
“If you want to keep your job, I’d lay off the jokes about that,” Case barks, balling his right hand into a fist while his left grips the edge of his desk. It’s the only thing standing between the two of them, and if Ryder keeps this up, it won’t be for long.
“Sheesh, sorry. Didn’t know we were suddenly going to start acting professional around here.” Ryder puts up his hands in surrender, then turns his head toward me, searching for a better reaction to his jokes. “Sienna, I think you’ve got the boss working too hard.”
“We’re just trying to work on his book,” I say through clenched teeth.
Ryder scoffs, like he’s offended by the fact that we’re actually doing our jobs. “Shit, what crawled up both your asses? I’m just trying to chat, and you’re acting way weird.”
“It’s just this deadline,” I say, not allowing Case the chance to snap at Ryder again. “We’re working on a tight schedule.”
Ryder nods. “Ah, right. Sorry. I totally get it. Are things coming along okay?”
Every muscle in my body goes limp with relief. Thank God he bought that excuse, because I don’t have another one.
“Yeah, just fine,” Case says, releasing his grip on the desk. “Much better with your sister’s help. I wouldn’t have been able to get this done without her.”
Ryder gives me a proud-brother smile. “Hell yeah, that’s what I like to hear. You guys make a great team.”
“You have no idea,” Case mutters, and I choke back a cough. Ryder doesn’t seem to notice.
“Well, I’ll get out of your hair,” Ryder says, leaping up from the chair. He confirms with me that I have my car here and don’t need a ride, then heads for the door. Thankfully, he closes it behind him.
Case and I each let out an enormous exhale in perfect unison, followed by the chiming of the clock. I turn to check, and it’s only eleven o’clock. There’s a lot of day and a lot of work ahead of us. My imagination is going to need to take a back seat.
Time manages to speed up from nearly stagnant to a moderate crawl once I finally force myself to focus. I’ll take what I can get.
Case churns out a few pages of his chapter, which he passes off to me for editing, not a word spoken between us. There’s a silent agreement hanging in the air—if we don’t acknowledge the heat, maybe we won’t get burned.
When the clock finally chimes five, I feel as though I’m an entire year older. Hopping up from my desk, I grab the black dance bag I was storing at my feet all day and sling it over my shoulder.
“I have to go. I like to be early for class.”
It’s not a total lie. Better early than late, and better in the studio than here. At least time goes quickly when I’m teaching, and when I’m there, I don’t have to stare down my number-one distraction all day.
“You’ll be back at seven thirty,” Case says, less of a question and more of a statement of fact.
Confused, I crinkle my forehead. “I thought we said eight.”
Case’s lips twitch into a mischievous smile. “You said you like to be early.”
I smile back. “You’re the boss.”
On my drive to the studio, I picture what Case might do to fill the time while I’m gone. He’ll probably lift weights, then take a shower. I imagine him, his hair wet, a towel barely clinging to his hips. Today was borderline torture, but now, I’m just one ballet class away from my imagination becoming reality.
As I pull the car into the parking lot, I bundle all of my thoughts about Case, about tonight, and then I leave them all outside the studio door. They’ll still be here for me when I’m done teaching, but for now, I need all my focus to be on my little ballerinas.
I fumble with the key ring Helen gave me until I find the big brass key that unlocks the front door. The smell of rosin and glass cleaner is familiar, like coming home. I flip on the lights, the low buzz of the fluorescents keeping me company as I head for the bathroom to change into my black strappy leotard and tights. The alone time is nice, almost necessary after the stress of today.
Once I’ve changed clothes, I unlock the studio door, then the office door, flipping the lights on as I go. The building comes to life, readying itself for my dancers. The first minivan of the evening pulls up outside the window, followed by two SUVs. Class number two, here we go.
The girls scamper across the hardwood floor one by one, some of them coming up to me for a hug. Good, they still like me, even though it’s been a couple of days.
I grab the clipboard off the top of the stereo and begin taking attendance, putting checkmarks next to names as the girls arrive. I’m surprised that I have a lot of their names memorized already. Maybe I won’t have to make flash cards like I thought.
Once everyone has arrived, the girls all find a spot at the barre, and we launch into our warmup. The combinations are a little bit more challenging than the ones I taught last class, but the girls pick them up without breaking a sweat.