Evin's Fight (Southern Charmers Book 3) Ahren Sanders (all ebook reader .TXT) 📖

recognizing the name well. “Marco Bindel, the Governor of Virginia?”

“Yes, but Marco wasn’t Governor until last year. He wasn’t into politics at all while we were growing up. He was pondering the State Senate race but wanted to wait until we were in college. Before that, he was an executive.”

“We? How many siblings do you have?”

“Just my sister.”

“How old is she?”

“She’s twenty-nine.”

“You have a twin?” I ask in disbelief.

“Irish twin, she turns thirty soon. Which is the beginning of my story.”

She takes my glass and sips the liquor, grimacing as she swallows, then continues. “Tasha and I were normal sisters until high school. By then, I’d already found my love of dance and performing, but she’d never stuck to anything. She resented me and was vocal about it, always undermining my passion for dance. My parents listened to her, and when I declared I was going to college for dance, they refused to support it. Remember when I told you I had to get a scholarship for school?”

“And you busted your ass to do it?”

“My dad was eyeing politics and Tasha fell into the role perfectly, studying business and political science in college in Virginia. She loved the idea and notoriety of what a political lifestyle would offer. This delighted my parents.

“I found an avenue to go to school and study dance with a minor that I thought would be acceptable. It wasn’t enough for them. They weren’t financially responsible for my education.”

“They wouldn’t send you to college if you didn’t bend to their will?”

“No, they saw dance as a frivolous hobby that wouldn’t lead me anywhere. If I wanted to chase my dream, it was my responsibility to find a way. So, I went to my favorite dance instructor and explained my situation. We worked tirelessly for weeks, researching schools and programs. It wasn’t enough to be accepted to a program; I had to have the scholarship, too. The cards were stacked against me in certain programs because they distribute the aid based on financial needs. Mrs. Canon called in favors with her contacts that could help.”

“Sounds like a terrific woman.”

“She is and I owe everything to her.”

“Poppy, she may have been your cheerleader, but it’s you with the talent.”

“Yes, but at seventeen-years-old, I wasn’t mentally equipped for the stress. While all my friends were enjoying parties, football games, and beach weekends to celebrate the last year of high school, I was in a dance studio preparing for auditions. It took a toll on me, and each time I was breaking down, Mrs. Canon would lift me by reminding me to dance to my destiny.”

My fingers go to her ribcage, sliding along where the words are inked on her skin. “The meaning makes the tattoo more beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s a lot of stress on you. What I don’t understand is how your parents were so removed.”

“That’s the funny thing. They weren’t. It sounds stupid, but even with all the blood, sweat, and tears, I have significant memories from that year. With Tasha gone, it was the first time I had my parents to myself. They did not fill my house with negativity and tension; it was the opposite.”

“They basically told their teenage daughter to find her own way to support her dreams. I can’t foresee how that would be a loving home.”

“From what you’ve told me, my upbringing was nothing like growing up with Edward and Annie Graham, but it was our way. Marco and Karen never missed one of my performances, nor any of my special moments. They praised my hard work. When it came time for auditions, Karen took me to every single one.”

I shake my head, trying to wrap my head around what I’m hearing. “Now I have whiplash. Are you telling me they finally came around?”

“They changed their tune. Karen saw my determination and spun it as grit and ambition.”

“They were testing you with tough love?” I grind out, getting pissed at the thought of a teenage Poppy putting herself through this while they stood by.

She shrugs nonchalantly. “Maybe, but it didn’t matter because I was offered several scholarships, including a spot at Julliard.”

“I know nothing about dance, but I know that’s fucking impressive.”

“Thank you.” A flicker of pride lights in her eyes. “But in the end, I chose UNC because it was closer to home and had an unbelievable program.”

“Did your family finally catch on and get on board?”

The flicker of pride dies and she nods sadly. “Yes, they were proud of me and relieved I was only a few hours away.”

“No offense, baby, but you’re losing me here. And seeing as you keep referring to your parents by their first names and they aren’t in your life now, it leads me to believe there’s a lot of shit to come.”

She gets up, moving to the bar to refill my glass. When she returns, I tug her into my lap.

“That was the prelude to you understanding how the rest of the story goes.” Her voice is faint and hoarse, setting my nerves on edge.

Dante’s warning rings in my ears.

“The family she grew up with chewed her up and spit her out. They fucked her over on the concept of loyalty, love, and moral values.”

I take the glass from her and swallow most of the liquor in one gulp.

“What did they do to you?” I press her to continue.

“My college years were amazing. I met friends, had exceptional training, and life was awesome. My parents visited, and we never discussed their original disdain for my choice to pursue dance. Marco was busy ramping up his political sights and getting involved with local and state government interests. He was a natural, too. Many times, he’d call me and ask my opinions on issues. We’d discuss his stance, his platforms, his ideas. It made me happy that he valued my insight. Everyone was living their own lives. Because of our schedules, Tasha and I only saw each other during holidays or breaks. We grew distant because she didn’t keep