A Wright Christmas - K.A. Linde Page 0,24

long time since I’d had that primal reaction to anything other than dance. It was a part of me, but Isaac intrinsically was, too.

My face heated at my wandering thoughts, and I was glad for the dark evening and the bright Christmas lights to hide behind.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, taking out his phone. “Piper said if I dialed into the radio station on my phone, it would play music the whole way.”

He fiddled with the app that he’d downloaded ahead of time, and sure enough, “Frosty the Snowman” began to play. He shoved it into his back pocket. The music was a little muffled but not by much.

“So, what’s it like, being the artistic director?” he asked as we took the first turn, following the directions to navigate the lights.

“Magical,” I said softly. “But also difficult.”

“Difficult because it’s new?”

“Yes, and no. I’ve choreographed before and run rehearsals. It’s part of being a dancer. Most professionals have some experience with it. But this feels like more than that. This is being in charge of the entire artistic direction of a company. It’s a lot of pressure. The Nutcracker is the biggest event of the season.”

“But you know every role. You’ve done this a thousand times.”

“You’re right. That part makes it easier. And it is wonderful. I love working with the company, especially the younger students.” I took a long, soothing sip of my wine. “If I’m honest, I always thought I would become a director like this once my dance career was over. This just feels earlier than normal.”

“Really? I thought you’d want to perform forever.”

“I do,” I said immediately. “More than anything.”

I didn’t bring up my injury. Or the pain that still radiated through my knee when I danced. I knew I couldn’t dance forever, but I couldn’t imagine giving it up either.

“But eventually, I mean, sometime in the future, I want to do this. It feels a bit like a test run.”

“That’s good though, right? You get to try out the job you think you want. Then, in, like, ten years, you can decide if you want to retire from ballet.”

I laughed. Ten years. Very few dancers continued into their forties. I’d need a miracle to be one of them. But I didn’t say that either.

“And you’re working at Wright Construction,” I said, changing the subject. “Tell me about that.”

“Well, I’m the full-time project manager. I mainly oversee the largest projects we have, such as the Buddy Holly Hall.”

“You helped build the performing arts center?” I asked in awe.

“Not build exactly, but I manage the teams. I’m in charge of organizing everything, making sure the money is coming in from all the right places. That sort of thing. I’m not really the boots-on-the-ground guy anymore. Actually, I’m pretty excited about a new project, but it’s kind of a secret.”

He looked at me with those bright green eyes, which asked me if I could keep a secret. And I shifted closer, wanting nothing more than to dive deep into that gaze and never surface.

“Yes?”

“Lubbock is getting a professional soccer team. It’s Division II, but they’ve hired Wright to design and build it.”

My eyebrows rose. “Wow! That’s great news for you! And you get to be a part of it?”

“Yep. Jensen and Morgan brought me in to consult on the facility since I have experience.”

“You must be thrilled.”

He couldn’t even come close to keeping the smile off of his face. “I am. I can’t wait to get started and to have games to go to. I miss it so much.” He took my hand, interlacing our fingers together. “Speaking of Wright, they’re actually having a Christmas party next week. Do you have any interest in going?”

“With you?” I asked in surprise.

He laughed. “Yes, with me.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.” Damn Piper for being right that I was going to need more than a carry-on’s worth of clothes.

“You could wear this,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t care.”

“A girl does not wear this to a Wright Christmas party,” I said with an eye roll. “I’ll find something. I’d love to go.”

We came to a corner of the lights that was the divider point. A few benches had been placed in a semicircle around the opening in the vines. The last couple had just vacated the area, leaving us all alone.

I finished off my wine, tossing the cup into a nearby trash can, and took a seat on the bench. Isaac dropped down next to me, and when he