Grateful in Watch Hill : A Small Town Romance Sara Celi (polar express read aloud TXT) 📖

wish I could, but I need to get back.” I hesitated. “I don’t want to be gone too long with my dad’s health the way that it is.”

“Understandable.” Seth’s expression fell a little; my refusal had disappointed him. “Well, let me at least walk you to your car.”

“Thanks.” I hooked my thumb over my shoulder. “It’s that way.”

It was only a few hundred yards to the car, but I moved as slowly as I could, conscious that I was drawing it out, making it last as long as possible. I wanted to savor every moment, wanted to memorize every second. Being with Seth was refreshing, but also a mix of old and new I hadn’t expected to get back.

And here it was, right in front of me.

“This is my car,” I said when we arrived at the SUV. I sighed. The evening had to end sometime. “I guess this is goodnight.”

“I suppose it is.” He turned to me. “This was really fun. More than that. It was—”

“Special,” I said, adding in the word on the tip of my tongue.

He nodded. “Special.”

“The beer cheese was just as good as I remembered.”

“That’s what I was the most worried about.” He laughed. “Could have been a major disappointment.”

I laughed too. “Thank you for this. Thank you for just letting things . . . be.”

“You’re welcome.”

Seth stared at me for a long moment, and I felt something change between us, an invisible shift that told me this wasn’t just a friendly dinner, this wasn’t just a moment between two people who had known each other before the pandemic and wanted to catch up after. This was something more.

Much more.

“Well, I guess I need to go.” I sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t want to keep my father waiting.”

But I do. I do want to keep my father waiting so I can spend more time with you.

“Goodnight, Seth.”

He stepped forward. “Goodnight, Kendra.”

My lungs hitched. Is he going to kiss me? The thought scrolled through my mind, overtaking everything else. I wanted him to; I’d wanted him to kiss me for a long time, probably since the first time I’d worked for him, when he’d slipped me a devasting smile and made me feel like there was no one else around. I liked Seth. A lot. He was more than just a friend.

And then he stepped away. “I should let you go.”

“Okay.”

“Let me know how it goes with Nancy.” He zipped up his jacket. The moment was over. We were friends, and that was all. “I’m sure it will be great.”

“I hope so,” I replied.

Then I got in the car and drove back to reality.

SEVENKENDRA

The night before the meeting with Nancy, I barely slept.

I tried on six different outfits and five different hairstyles. I did a makeup run-through and practiced answering interview questions. I fought back the urge to throw up. This was a big moment and had the potential to be the opportunity to get out of what had become a quagmire of despair. I didn’t want to mess up any of it.

I got up early, did a round of yoga, and tried to steel my nerves before getting dressed for the interview—meeting—that might change the trajectory of my life. Our lives. I kissed my dad goodbye and made vague generalizations about where I was going. I fought the urge to tell him the truth, because if things didn’t work out, he’d only be more disappointed.

I arrived at Nancy’s practice facility fifteen minutes early and parked near the entrance. After turning off the car engine, I said a prayer. As horrible as it sounded, I also prayed that Nancy hadn’t called other out-of-work dancers that I’d have to compete against for the role. Does that make me mean-hearted?

I needed this. We needed this.

Moments later, Nancy’s assistant showed me into the large rehearsal space that made up the main part of the building. He asked me if I wanted water, and I declined.

“So kind of you to spend part of your afternoon with me, Kendra.”

Nancy stood from her seat in the small viewing area off to the side of the performance space. From her part of the room, she’d have a view of whatever the dance company wanted to show her. She didn’t introduce herself; she didn’t have to. She was a legend in our region, and I had no doubt that she knew it.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Nancy. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Is this your first time coming to the facility, Kendra?”

“Not my first.” I winced at the memory of an audition I did for her studio a few years earlier, when I was young, hungry, and desperate to please her. I hadn’t made it past the first round. In a way, it felt strange to be back in the same place, but this time in a more hopeful position. “But it has been a few years since I’ve been here.”

“I know the rehearsal hall needs an update.”

Nancy stopped a few feet away from me. She wore a white chunk-knit cardigan, a pale pink leotard, black leggings, and black ballet flats. She might have been close to sixty, but she still had a body as fit as a twenty-five-year-old.

“Once we get the company back on track and we’re performing again, I’m hopeful we can raise some angel investment to help us get a new floor and some other amenities.”

“Cincinnati has always been friendly to the performing arts,” I replied. “I’m sure you’ll be able to raise the money without any problem.”

“We need to show the community we’re still committed to the future of our students.” She smiled, her wide lips straining against her wrinkled but heavily made-up face. “That’s where you might be able to come in.”

“How so?” I braced myself for the answer. Is this the moment everything changes?

“I found some clips of you on YouTube when you were with American Dance. I believe it was their New Works Exhibition from last year. You did a great