Arms of Promise Read Online Free PDF Page B

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    Heat spread through her until the sunlight streaming from the windows lit a face she recognized. Recovering, she gathered herself up and traipsed toward her iPod as her dance instructor, Mr. Jamison, strode in.
    “You’re off today, Annabelle.”
    If it was that obvious from only a short combination, it was worse than she thought. Anna dug her fingertips through the top of her hair. “I know.”
    “You want to talk about it?”
    Definitely not. Talking would only stir up more convoluted emotions she didn’t want or need to explore. “It’s just one of those days. Nothing to talk about.” She swept her things up from the corner, turned, and almost bumped into him.
    Mr. Jamison gave her the stern teacher look he pulled off as if he were fifty instead of thirty-five. “Whatever it is, it’s not more important than your dance career.”
    Tell that to her heart. Anna stared at her bag’s handle clutched under her fingers.
    “I got a call from Vicky last night.”
    Her head flashed up. “What’d she say?”
    “They’re moving the auditions to the twenty-fifth.”
    “Black Friday?” Not good. Reese would kill her if she bailed early on their Thanksgiving weekend plans.
    “A snowstorm’s scheduled to hit on Saturday.” He shrugged. “They didn’t want to risk having to cancel.”
    So, she’d have to audition after a full day off the floor. Great. She pinched the bridge of her nose.
    Mr. Jamison cupped her arms and angled his face in front of hers until she had to meet his eyes. “Don’t stress. There’s not a single company that’d reject your technique. I wouldn’t have booked the audition if I didn’t think you were ready. The choreo’s there. The only thing holding you back is this.” He motioned to her head. “There’s no room for doubts on the dance floor.”
    Anna nodded. After failing her audition for Hubbard Street Dance Chicago at the end of her senior year, she knew that better than anyone.
    “Do you want to do some partner work before you leave?”
    “Not today.” She slung her bag around her back.
    He offered an understanding smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
    “Bright and early,” she called on her way to the bathroom.
    The studio had been a refuge for her these last several years. It was enough. Why did life have to mess with that? And why did Evan have to be here to complicate it even more?
    After patting down with a damp towel, Anna traded her tights for a pair of jeans, changed into a bulky sweater, and tugged on her tan boots. It might not have snowed yet, but the wind coming off the harbor didn’t know the difference. Just like her emotions didn’t heed the warning trying to knock some sense into her every time last night replayed in her head.
    She could kick herself for asking to see Evan again like a doe-eyed girl on a first date. He had a model lookalike girlfriend, for crying out loud. Not to mention, he’d obviously left town for a reason. What made her think running into him yesterday changed any of that?
    At the sink, Anna unraveled her braid, wishing her connection to him were as easy to undo. She had to throw away that paper with his number on it when she got home tonight. Plain and simple. He wasn’t the only one who could be laser focused. Mr. Jamison was right. On or off the floor, she had no room for second-guessing.
    No room for daylight without coffee, either. A mocha was calling. Big time. If there were ever a day—scratch that— a month to splurge on comfort drinks, it was now.
    Anna looped her infinity scarf around her neck while backing out the door into the blustery morning. The urge for a caffeine fix led her toward Forty-Second Street on her way to the rec center.
    A guy in a long wool coat on the opposite sidewalk caught her eye. Something about the way he looked in her direction gave her goose bumps. He flicked a cigarette to the ground, and she would’ve sworn he nodded to someone behind her.
    She shot a cautious glance over her