The Girl in the Mirror (Sand & Fog #3)

by Susan Ward

  He laughs. “If you want that, stop being so damn good when you seduce me.”

  I peek up at him, sure my eyes are sparkling. “Good, huh? Was it good, Jacob?”

  His palms run down my back, resting on my butt as he holds me against him. The smile on his face I feel in my center.

  “You know it was good. You’re your own worst enemy, Krystal. I can’t imagine you have anything left in your legs to dance with.” His hazel orbs turn serious. “I meant it, you know. If you do well today or they boot you from the audition early. We have each other and that’s enough for me.”

  I nod, kissing his chin before brushing my nose against his stubble there. “Don’t shave today. I may need consoling after my audition, and the roughness on your face against my skin is one of my favorite things.”

  He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding. That’s not one of your favorite things.”

  I sink my teeth into my lower lip and stare up at him impishly. “But it is. When you’re being bad Jacob, rough and naughty, I like the feel of stubble on your face.”

  “Shush,” he says, his expression chiding. “I’m never bad. Never naughty. Only loving.”

  “Only loving,” I repeat before I close my mouth over his, greedily kissing him as I move against his sated dick.

  He breaks the kiss first. “Stop it. I couldn’t if I wanted to and we’re late.” He checks the clock. “You’ve left yourself only an hour to get to NBBC. You don’t want to arrive late and have them refuse to let you audition, do you?”

  I don’t move.

  “Who cares? I’ve auditioned three times for NBC, NBT and City. They don’t give me any love. Twice for Nelson Bassard Ballet Company.” I lift my chin and make a face at him. “Definitely no love from Milo Bassard. You’re the only one who wants me. Who cares if I’m late?”

  He does an adorable pout. “Fuck them if they don’t want you. They’re idiots. I want you. It’s fine by me if you quit. You’re the star in my universe already.”

  Smiling, I settle back against his body. Then I groan. “I can’t quit.”

  “You can quit any time you want to.” He gently, soothingly caresses my back. “Krystal, the economy is in the toilet. The companies are scaling back and not taking on new members. Personally, I think it’s cruel they keep holding auditions when they have no contracts to hand out. It isn’t you failing. It isn’t you not working hard enough. You’re magnificent. But you practically kill yourself to succeed, and right now I don’t think that’s possible. It’s the economy, babe. Just like your dad warned. Dancing your best isn’t going to change that. We can go back to California. Away from here and all the doom and gloom in Manhattan. It’s better on the west coast than it is on the east coast. Less miserable. Quit.”

  “We’ve talked about this, Jacob. If I quit now I won’t ever know if I was good enough and could have made it. I know being with a ballerina isn’t exactly the ideal life for a guy. But realistically, I only have one year left to land something. You know that. I can’t quit until there’s no point to trying anymore. Stay with me here another year. If I don’t get offered a membership anywhere, then I’ll go where you want me and be whatever you want me to be. But I can’t quit. Not this year.”

  He kisses my brow. “You already are everything I want you to be. I hate watching you torment yourself this way. As for living with a ballerina, what we are is everything to me. I love our life together, Krystal. And you don’t have to ask me to stay with you. Where you are is where I’ll always be. I’m in for the long haul. Haven’t I proved it?”

  I make a face. “Well, you did this morning.”

  His mouth scrunches up as he lightly swats me. “Don’t make jokes. I’m serious here. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  As I lie there nestled against him, holding him tightly, I savor the silence between us, the gentle give-and-hold-on that is us.

  I can’t believe how lucky I am. Even with all the uncertainty in the world, the grimness of the city, the less than encouraging trek of my dancing career, there’s no denying I’ve gotten one thing in life right. The best thing. Loving him. I couldn’t imagine my life now without Jacob.

  “No more stalling,” he orders. “Get up and get in the shower while I make you some breakfast.”

  I drop a kiss on his chest. “Yes, sir.”

  I scramble off him and head to the bathroom. I turn back at the doorway, watching as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m a pretty lucky girl. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

  Those gorgeous eyes brighten for me. “I’m a very lucky man. I definitely know that.”

  My smile takes over my face. “Good answer.” I crinkle my nose. “Remember to tell me that this evening if things go badly at NBBC and I’m being me.”

  He laughs, reaching for his boxers. “Hell no. Post-disappointing-audition sex is my favorite thing.”

  I giggle. “Not really?”

  His gaze glows wickedly. “Yep, really. Even better than when your instructors at Juilliard give you an ass-whipping.”

  I study his face and realize he’s not teasing. I shake my head at him. “Now I know why I never succeed. You will me to fail so you can get great failure sex. We could just blow off the audition and have failure sex all day. Probably a better use of the hours. What do you say? Do you want to stay in bed with me all day being nasty?”

  He tosses me a stern look. “Stop flirting. I’m not letting you use me as an excuse not to audition. Go take your shower, Krystal.”

  I struggle to hold back my betraying laughter. The guy knows me well. After a growl, I head into the bathroom.

  Holding my hand beneath the water, testing the heat, I hear him say from the bedroom, “Is Cass going to be at the audition today?”

  “I think so,” I call out to him. “Things are still awful with her father, but she’s a realist. She’s running out of options, too. And she’s one year older than I am. None of the elite companies want her either. At least I’m in good company when I fail.”

  “You’re better than Cass and you know it.”

  I smile to myself as I step into the shower. Three years ago when we started Juilliard, I wouldn’t have thought that true, but today I’m at the peak of my dancing ability, in top form. As I quickly wash I know that has everything to do with Jacob. He keeps me focused. Keeps me in optimal physical shape. Keeps me on track. Keeps loving me through all the lows. My perfect partner in all ways.

  After a quick wash, I towel off before I wrap myself in the fluffy white cotton and secure my finger-dried curls in a ponytail. I brush my teeth, skipping the makeup, then head into the bedroom to dress.

  Underneath a long sweater, I wear a black full-body leotard. Having shoved my feet into my Vans, I reach for a scarf and wrap it around my neck before I grab the tote with my gear in it.

  In the kitchen, I keep out of Jacob’s way as he maneuvers around, cooking, and I grab my pointe shoes from the fridge. I check the ribbons. I’m so tired of sewing ribbons, and my feet and toes ache. Ice-cold shoes won’t help at all today. Fourth audition in two weeks and I can feel it from toe to heel.

  Setting my bag on the island, I settle on a barstool to watch Jacob gently ease a poached egg from the pan.

  “What are you going to do today?” I ask as he puts a plate in front of me.

  He pours himself coffee and I take a few sips of my power drink. Exhaling, he leans back against the counter. “Stay with you at NBBC. Watch you dance. I’ve got nothing lined up.”

  I make an upside down smile. “I’m sorry, Jacob. Something will turn up. It’s the shitty economy, remember?”

  He nods. “Only offer I’ve had is in California. There doesn’t seem to be anything available in the city, not even with everyone who can afford to have bodyguards these days.”

  I use my fork to play with my meal and he points at my plate to tell me to eat, then takes a sip from his cup.

 
“You don’t need to find another job, Jacob. We’re a team. Besides, if you quit, I’d need another bodyguard. What if we end up with Brayden here?”

  He snorts once then gives me a hard stare. “We talked about this, Krystal.”

  “But I don’t care. I’ve already told you that.”

  “I want to be able to look your dad in the eye when I tell him I’m in love with his daughter. I don’t want him to think I’m some guy collecting a check from him who’s taken advantage of my circumstance. I want to be able to look Alan in the eye when I tell him about us.”

  “You can. It’s not like that. We know that. They’ll know it, too. We love each other.”

  He rakes back his hair and closes the space until he’s standing with only the island between us. “That’s not how it will seem. Not after all this time. We should have come clean when we made the decision and flown to California then and told your parents everything. It will come off like we’ve been hiding something. Like I’ve manipulated you into hiding things so I can still collect my salary.”

  “I don’t care,” I state heatedly. “You’re doing the job they hired you for. You deserve to be paid. And your sister shouldn’t suffer because we’ve fallen in love with each other. You need to take care of Jane. I don’t care what anyone thinks.”

  He smiles slightly. “Well, I do, babe.” He frowns. “Stop pushing your food around your plate and eat.”

  “I’m full.”

  He gives me a pointed stare. “We had a deal, Krystal. No more starving yourself. No more diet pills. No more laxatives. That sports medicine doctor put together a first-rate health regimen, including an excellent diet, and you’re going to follow it to the letter. I want you healthy when you’re done with your dancing career so we can start thinking about having a family. Start eating.”

  I shovel a mouthful of egg into my mouth. “Happy now?”

  “No,” he says in a long, drawn-out way. “I’ll be happy when that plate is finished.”

  I grimace. “I can’t eat all this and dance today. This diet is ridiculous. It has me eating and eating all day.”

  He arches a brow. “Have you put on weight?”

  “No,” I admit grudgingly.

  “Have the dizzy spells and the blurred vision stopped? Do you feel stronger, better?”

  I roll my eyes at him. “Yes, Jacob, they have and I do.”

  “Are you dancing better?”

  I run him with my gaze as my features alter into a lusty leer. “Dancing better, but what I credit that one to is having amazing sex every morning and night.”

  He battles not to smile. “Then if you want to have energy for amazing sex tonight, eat.”

  Shaking my head, I use my fork to grab a section of egg. “What makes you think you’re allowed to give me orders?”

  He holds up his left hand to flash his white gold band on his fourth finger before he shoves the paper bag with my four carefully prepared daily snacks in it.

  I take another angry bite. “How come the second I said ‘I do’ all you’ve ever said is Krystal do.”

  “Wrong. The second I said ‘I do’ you started saying you won’t. You were much more agreeable before I married you last year.”

  His eyes turn somber, a fleeting flash I barely catch, before he drops a kiss on my nose and reaches for his cell.

  I can tell by his expression that he’s thinking about last year and I wish he wasn’t because I can feel the knot in my stomach that always comes when I think of that. The baby we didn’t plan and ended up wanting. The reason we married on the hush so quickly. Our private loss—the child I miscarried at three months—in this dark time of too much loss, that pulled us closer and stronger together into something I never imagined two people could be. As much as it hurts me when I let my thoughts drift there, I know it hurts him more. He wanted that baby before I was willing to let myself want it as well.

  With great loss can follow great happiness if you love.

  Yes, Grandpa Jack’s little truisms are so spot-on at times, and he doesn’t know one iota of my history with Jacob. The baby that sent us to the altar and was later lost, bringing Jacob and me even closer together. Our marital shockwave preceded by two months the US economic collapse on the heels of Western Europe sinking the world into chaos. The tragedy between us and all around made us hold on to each other even tighter.

  I feel older and wiser than twenty-one, but more myself than ever. Like I finally understand the meaning and importance of things, the real things beyond my dance studio.

  No, I don’t care what anyone thinks about us and what prompted our sudden marriage. Or that we’ve been married twelve months and haven’t shared it with anyone except Cassandra. My family will just have to get over it. I love him.

  Finger swiping the screen, he reads through his notifications as he attaches his gun to his belt. I pick at my meal and study him. His brows lower. There’s something in one of the texts that bothers him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  His jaw tightens as he shakes his head. “Nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart.”

  My brows hitch up. “That bad, huh? You’re not fooling anyone, Jacob.”

  “Everything is fine,” he assures me, quickly turning off the cell and shoving it into his pocket.

  “You don’t have to keep things from me. It’s not going to destroy my focus to sometimes know what’s happening in the world. And it’s not like I can miss it when we’re out on the streets or when we watch the news.”

  His eyes widen. “I’m not your dad keeping your mom in the dark about everything. I tell you everything. I don’t keep anything from you and I never have.”

  I exhale heavily, leaning back in my chair. “How long do you think things are going to be this bad?”

  “I don’t know, babe. Everyone says it took five years to come out of 2008 and it wasn’t as bad as this.”

  “Five years. I hope not.”

  “Me, too. Finish the yogurt so we can get out of here.”

  I shovel the last mouthful and he takes my plate, rinsing it before leaving it in the sink to finish cleaning later.

  We go down the freight elevator to the waiting car, Jacob in full intimidating guard posture. Through the iron gate of the exit I can see the sunlight. It’s a bright, beautiful day. It’d be wonderful to walk outside for a bit, to clear my thoughts and settle into my zone to dance, but no, Jacob isn’t letting that happen. How he’s rapidly surveilling the area tells me it’s not even worth asking.

  I take my place in the backseat and Jacob sits next to me instead of in the front with the driver as he’s supposed to. I stare out the window as we go from underground to the street. I miss walking in New York. Mom’s always hated it here and Dad says it’s like it was in the ’70s and early ’80s. But I don’t know. I like the feel of the city, the energy that exists even with the despair.

  The sidewalks are crowded with people moving briskly amid the trash cans overflowing and the wisps of smoke from buildings here and there. The remains of fires from last night. There must have been more protests. The city going bankrupt has put everyone on edge. Riots and protests are common nowadays.

  It will pass, Alan says in that very British way he has, before he suggests I come home. Chrissie uses guilt and pleading. Kaley states flat out she thinks I’m nuts to try to stick it out here. Everyone has an opinion on what I should do with my life.

  I shift my gaze to Jacob.

  Does he think we should leave here?

  Is that why he brought up the job in California again?

  Or is it just his pride being bruised over keeping his job with my dad that makes him subtly nudge for me to quit dancing and for us to go somewhere else?

  I close my fingers over his hand resting on the seat beside me and give it a squeeze. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Jacob Merrick.”

  He gives me a look that makes my heart jump. “Not yet, Mrs. Merrick.
But I plan to be.”

  I set my head on his shoulder. “That’s why you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Because you’re wonderful and think it can get better than this.”

  I shut my eyes against the view from the window. Inside the car there is only us and that’s perfection to me.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Jacob”

  I stand in the stark, dilapidated hallway, staring through the window into the audition room. It’s hot, the ventilation system is either malfunctioning or turned off to save money, and the air is stale and heavy with the scent of old concrete and young dancers sweating.

  This is not the way I pictured the world of elite ballet before Krystal, but to be honest, I’m not sure I ever pictured it. Why would I? She’s the first dancer I’ve ever known, and knowing her, I assumed her every environment would be merely an extension of her: beautiful, soft of color, elegant, and happy.

  The first audition I watched taught me two things about my wife I’d only partially known from loving her. As fragile as she looks on the surface, she’s iron beneath her skin. She has to be to slug it out day after day, working her body to an unimaginable limit and taking endless hours of verbal brutality that would make most people crumble in twenty minutes. Worse than the military in every way—mental, physical, and emotional. Second, for a girl born with every luxury, she has a work ethic that would put most people to shame. If dedication and hard work were the only variables that determined success, she’d be an international star already.

  Ten hours of dance a day, minimum, and if she gets accepted into the corps of a company, it will be ten hours a day even on performance days until her body wears out and her careers ends most probably in five, maybe ten, years.

  Krystal’s right when she says I know being with a ballerina isn’t exactly the ideal life for a guy, but not for the reasons she thinks. It’s excruciating to watch what she puts herself through, day after day, and not to stop her, when all I want is to love and protect her.