10.) Question Unimaginable

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10.) Question Unimaginable

Kiddish jingles and my shouts filled the studio as my theatre students danced across from the mirrored wall.

"Five, six, seven, eight, and one, two, three, four," I yelled the step count over the fast-paced, Seussical track blaring through the speakers beside me. "Stop!" I paused the music and addressed six-year-old Skyler and Nikki, adorable in their feathery, daisy-yellow costumes. Through the mirror, much taller girls stood in front of them. "Bird girls, look in the mirror. Can you see yourselves?"

"No," they answered in unison.

"You have to make sure you are in windows, girls. If you see someone in front of you, move yourself over so the audience can see you, 'kay?"

"Yes, Ms. Natasha."

I looked up at the clock above the mirror: 7:32pm. "All right guys, rehearsal is finished. Make sure you practice what you learned at home and don't forget to memorize your lines!"

As the kids fled, Skyler and Nikki raced to hug me as usual. I squeezed them. "You girls are doing wonderful. Keep it up."

I glimpsed at the window by the door as they pulled away. Chris stood outside of it, a beautiful smile on his gorgeous face. His olive-green v-neck exposed his sexy sternum and the top of his pecs. My heartbeat skipped as I smiled back. What a delightful surprise. Thank God I opted for my black tights and thigh boots as opposed to a baggy tee and sweats.

"Who's the bald guy, Ms. Natasha?" Skyler asked.

"Skyler! His head is shaved, not bald. And he's a friend." I frowned a tad. But hopefully he'd be more than that soon...

"Suuure." Skyler and Nikki grinned as they skipped away, arm-in-arm.

I grabbed my purse and met Chris at the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Remember when Simon texted you earlier asking where you worked?"

I flung my arms around him. As usual, he smelled laundry fresh and wisely fragranced. I savored his warm embrace, his soft touch and beating heart. In the two years I'd worked here, no guy had ever surprised me at work. Chris was finally doing all the right things. I hope he'd keep it up...

"Did you take your dad's car?" he asked as I let go.

"No, he dropped me off."

"Good." He smirked, beckoning me to follow him outside.

"Wait—I need to put in my hours real quick." I spun around, almost knocking over a small boy with Harry Potter glasses and a backpack half his size. Surprising parents haven't sued schools for causing hunchbacks yet. "Sorry, little guy!" I darted inside, startling Stacey, the skinny, fifty-something, always fake-smiling receptionist as she sat at the front desk.

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