Page 17 of Falling for the Bosshole

Half an hour later, Ana stood nervously outside the door of Lash’s Manhattan penthouse. Ana cocked an ear. Nothing filtered through the door. No sound of laughter or music or conversation.

“Maybe I have the wrong apartment,” Ana thought. It was sacrilegious calling it an apartment, as it was the only unit occupying two top floors of the building. She wished she had gone with the other girls, and then she wouldn’t feel so self-conscious making a grand entrance.

Her tentative knock was answered by a uniformed butler who ushered her into the foyer, which was more spacious than her house back in Spain.

“This way, miss,” the butler said, leading her through a series of hallways before they came into a spacious living room. The lights of the city were displayed in full splendor through the glass windows wrapped around the room.

Ana entered a walkway with an alcove glass ceiling. Vine trellises crept intricately onto the metal posts that supported the ceiling. Indoor plants lined a walkway of artificial grass, as recessed lighting enhanced the outdoorsy ambiance that led to an open verandah.

Ana recognized the cast and crew as they milled around a swimming pool that was decked with floating candles. A waiter met her at the entrance of the verandah and offered her a glass of champagne.

Ana felt eyes on her. She raised her chin. Stefan and Nigel did a great job on her. She was Cinderella attending her first ball. Her prince came in the person of choreographer, Jonathan Engel, who came to greet her.

“Ana, you look fabulous,” Jonathan gushed, taking her elbow before leading her inside.

Ana approached an entrée table as she furtively scanned the room in search of Lash. She was on the lookout for a familiar face that she saw in a magazine spread. Both Lash and Lili were nowhere to be found at the moment.

“He probably went to pick her up,” a resentful thought occurred.

A 3-piece band was playing, and some of the girls hit the dance floor. She watched from the sidelines, wondering if she should join them when someone spoke.

“Hello, Ana.”

She turned around. It was Lash, and he was alone. She didn’t even notice he had joined the party.

“Hi,” she replied as shyness overcame here. “You have a beautiful house,” she complimented.

He shrugged. “It’s only four walls and a roof. It’s not a home ‘til you have someone to share it with.”

“I’m sure it’s not for lack of applicants to share it with,” she retorted cheekily. He seemed to be going solo. There was no trace of the exotic Chinese model anywhere in sight. That encouraged her somehow.

“Planning to join the line,” he asked with a grin.

Ana didn’t know if it was the champagne. But tonight, she was feeling very bold as she countered, “No, I’ve had my share of complicated men.”

“Seeing how you look tonight, you’ll have a hard time keeping them at bay. You look stunning, by the way.” Lash answered.

Ana pirouetted before him and said, “I met my fairy godmother in a flea market earlier today. He did this,” she said.

“Fairy godmother? I don’t understand,” Lash replied, confused.

Ana narrated how she met Stefan and ended up in the salon of his twin brother. She laughed at the look of disbelief on his face.

Ana was certain a hundred pairs of eyes were directed at them. Lash took her elbow as the butler announced dinner. There was no special seating arrangement. Everyone could sit anywhere they pleased as waiters hovered over every table to cater to the guests’ needs. She found herself seated beside Jonathan and some members of the cast and crew.

Lash was an impeccable host as he moved from table to table, making small talk. Ana realized he wanted everyone to feel equally important. She was thrilled when he joined them at her table.

To Ana’s left was Ricardo Ruiz, the leading male dancer of the company. She had only met him that night. When Ricardo learned about Romina leaving the company, he immediately sent word to Jonathan that he preferred to dance alongside Ana only after she had mastered all the dances. Ana thought he had an attitude. But Ricardo’s reputation preceded him. Ana hoped she would meet his standards when it was time for them to rehearse together.

Throughout dinner, Ana felt that Ricardo wanted to know her. She wanted that too. Rapport was important between two lead dancers if they were to be credible on stage. She listened and laughed at his jokes, and Ricardo was even curious about her. Ana soon discovered that Ricardo was a flirt, whispering in her ear, lowering his voice so that Ana had to lean in closer to hear him. They talked about the program for opening night and how they both could make it a success. They conspired like little kids and giggled at each other.

Ana glanced up and accidentally met Lash’s eyes from where he was seated. He did not seem pleased, his brows creased in a frown. Ana wondered what was wrong and sent him a smile. He didn’t return it.

The waiters cleared the table as more champagne bottles popped open. The band struck the opening chords of a famous Argentinian dance. Ana was taken by surprise when Ricardo stood and held out his hand.

“Dance with me, Ana,” he said.

“I-I don’t know the tango that well,” Ana replied.