Read July (Calendar Girl #7) for Free Online Page B

better or worse, for it is not mine to make. Only you have to live with your choices. I can see that this one is weighing very heavily on you.”
    Nodding I inhaled and pressed my palms together until my knuckles turned white with tension.
    “So, can we be friends without the other possibilities?” I asked, suddenly worried he may be upset with that particular decision.
    “Are you attracted to me, Lucita ?” Little light. Silly man.
    “Yes,” I said without reservation.
    “Yet you will deny yourself the pleasures of mating with me?”
    I smiled wide. The pleasures of mating? Where does he come up with this stuff? “Unfortunately, I don’t think that a new mate is in my cards at this time. Plus, there’s sort of someone else.” Okay, I admitted it. What the hell was I going to do about it?
    Anton smacked his thighs and stood. “Pity. I was looking forward to bedding you.”
    “I don’t think you’ll be lacking any company for the foreseeable future.”
    “This is true.” He waggled his eyebrows again. “Friends it is then?” He held out his hand this time as if to shake on a deal.
    “Friends.”
    He pulled up his hat and placed it on his head once more. “Now, as my friend, you’ll help me pull all these weeds.”
    “I think I’d like that, Anton.” A little work in the sun, sweating out the nasty toxins of the emotions too close to the surface would be cathartic. “On one condition...” I added a hand to the hip and cocked my head to the side.
    He grinned, a devilish, boyish gleam to his eyes that made me regret the “no mating” decision. “State your terms, woman.” His accent made his response sound absurdly suggestive.
    “I want to drive one of your motorcycles.”
    Anton’s head popped back and he chuckled. “You ride?” The shock evident in his body language and tone irked me.
    “I don’t ride, doll ,” I emphasized, using one of his endearments on him. “Baby, I drive.”
    His happy expression gave me hope. He pursed his lips together. “I look forward to paying up on our deal.” He pointed over to a big basket. “Gloves over there, an extra hat, and a bucket.”
    “Score!”
    ***
    Maria De La Torre.
    That was the choreographer’s name. Upon seeing her in person I almost swallowed my own tongue. Her raven hair rivaled my own in the bad ass hair department, and for a dancer, she had curves that wouldn’t quit. Thinner and more muscular than me, her body could have been etched in marble and worshipped for eons. She spoke English but switched into Spanish on a whim. Her ethnicity was unique. If I had to guess, I’d say Greek or Italian and maybe European Spanish. Definitely Mediterranean. All in all she was downright exotic. When she moved, all eyes were on her. There was a fluidity and grace about her, unlike any of the other dancers here.
    “Seductress!” Maria called out, looking at a piece of paper. “A Mia Saunders?” She scanned the crowd until all heads turned to me.
    I walked to the front of the dance studio where everyone was sitting. I had been holding up the wall in the back, not wanting to get in the way. She questioned each dancer, had them do a series of choreography, and then straight up nixed half of them. Right on the spot, she sent their assess packing. Brutal but effective.
    Maria’s eyes were an ice blue as she took in my body. “You are not a dancer,” she said directly without even asking me to repeat the steps the others had gone through. I almost felt relieved I didn’t have to embarrass myself in front of the others.
    “No, hired escort.” I shrugged and placed my hands on my hips.
    Her eyes narrowed and a small V formed at the top of her brow. “Are you dating someone here?” she asked clearly. Thank goodness someone knew the actual definition of an escort and didn’t automatically assume I was a whore.
    I smiled. “Anton and Heather hired me for this role. You can discuss the whys and rationale behind that decision with them.”
    Maria