“Praise, two p.m.,” he said, removing his foot from the door. My eyes widened, and a flush of adrenaline raced from the pit of my stomach to my chest. “You mean it?” I asked. “I never say things I don’t mean,” he said and started to walk away but paused to look back at me. “Let me know if you lose your nerve. I hate wasting my time.” I glared. “Why would I lose my nerve?” “Because,” he said. “You’re going to dance for me.”
