The next morning, I did exactly as Jordan told me and drove over to the bar that his friend owned. I walked right in, asked for Patrick, and twenty minutes later walked right back out with a brand spankin' new bartending job.
To get a job as a bartender in Chicago, apparently all you needed was a recommendation and boobs. Patrick, the bar owner and Jordan's friend, took one lingering look at me with his worn, hazel eyes, and gave me the job before even asking about any previous experience.
I almost couldn't believe how easy it was. As a dancer, there were always 100 other women vying for the same job I was. One role to fill and tens of hundreds of ballet shoes hoping to fill it. Finding work as a dancer was next to impossible and cut-throat. I'd always known I hit a stroke of luck securing the position I had with my dance company in New York before I left—
Before I had to leave.
My pride and heart ached as I thought of my dream job, my dream home, my dream life all back in New York that had turned in seconds to a nightmare. All those hours, buckets of sweat, nights spent in rehearsing instead of going out with friends only to end up in a city I didn't love with my dreams trailing in tatters behind me.
Now wasn't the time to dwell in self-pity, though. I was making moves, trudging on, and today was proof of that.
My official training would start in just a couple days and strangely enough, I was looking forward to it. I'd danced, taught dance, ate, breathed, and rehearsed only dance since I could remember. Doing something different for a change would be exactly what I needed.
As I left the bar, I sent Mel a quick text that I got the job, knowing that I wouldn't hear anything back from her for at least a few hours. I walked around the area for a bit, trying to familiarize myself as much as I could with my new surroundings before something unexpected caught my gaze over the road.
Art In Motion-Dance Studio
Under their sign were the words 'AIM for the stars'.
Cheesy but catchy, and I found a smile lifting my lips. My body tingled with a longing to run across the street, throw open their front door, and demand to be put in their next available class. I hadn't danced in over a week, and for someone who danced almost every day since the age of six, I could already feel the effects it was having on my body.
Even as badly as my body yearned to be back in a studio, my heart wasn't ready yet. As dumb as it was, I still felt a loyalty to my old dance studio lurking in my blood. Everything in New York had betrayed me right down to that studio, but I couldn't bring myself to do the same just yet.
A short vibration coming from my purse took hold of my attention. Surprise lifted my eyebrows to think that Mel had responded to me while at work. That pretty much never happened. When she was at work, she was in her zone and that zone did not include answering any social text messages, even from her only sister.
Bringing my phone out of my purse, my brows sank back down as I spotted the name on the incoming text message.
Jordan?
With curiosity bubbling up inside of me, I opened his message.
Do you eat chicken?
"Wha—" A breath of a laugh cut through the rest of my confusion as I stared down at his message. A twinge of amusement curled into my bewilderment at how completely random his question was.
Deciding to go with it, I responded.
Live chickens? Not usually.
I laughed to myself, feeling sort of proud of my humor. About a minute later, my phone vibrated again.
YOU ARE READING
Tempting /A Jordan Knight fanfic ✔️
Fanfiction(Completed) All my life, I had worked tirelessly to achieve perfection. Perfection was in my blood, and so was the art of dance. All that hard work had earned me my dream job as a professional dancer at the ripe age of twenty-four, the perfect boyf...
