Page 57 of Bite Me

“Stressed, I know.” I place my hand on hers. “That’s why my problems aren’t your problems.”

“I just want you to be careful. There’s more to this than he’s letting on, with the way he’s acting.”

“That’s why I have to get closer to him, to figure out what it is.”

The warm sun greets us as we walk out of the castle doors and onto the Central Lawn, right into a gathering of reporters and flashing cameras.

“Olivia, any word on the wedding plans?”

“Tell us about how you and Parker are dealing with the linked mate bond.”

“There is talk of moving the next Doxlothia ballet production to an event center in the city, due to the public outcry to see you perform. How does that feel after years of hard work?”

Olivia grabs my hand, nearly taking us both to the ground in her retreat. Guess we both forgot today is a reporter day. There is only one day a week when the reporters are allowed on campus for a short amount of time, and now they basically only want to talk to her and Parker.

In a few months of being here, she got all the fame I craved as a child. A memory surfaces of all three of us in our room late at night.

“Imagine . . . We get famous. Buy a big house. Party in the city,” I say.

“I don’t want to be famous,” Olivia says.

“Me neither.” Evangeline jostles my bed.

Evangeline’s answer doesn’t surprise me, but Olivia’s . . .

I grab Olivia’s arm. “So you want to be a ballerina no one knows? What are you talking about? You want to be a principal dancer in the IBCE!”

“Why do we need to be famous?”

“Because! Don’t you want everyone to love you for your talent and praise you? Think about it . . . The Osborne name up in lights.” I snatch a hairbrush from the nightstand and speak into it like a microphone. “Olivia Osborne, principal dancer, please bow for a standing ovation.”

“They don’t make announcements like that.”

“But for you, they might. Come on, think about it, your name on the dressing room door, fifty bouquets thrown at your feet, autographs. Admit it . . . You want it like I do.”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing nail polish from the nightstand.

Evangeline snatches the brush from my hand to brush her hair. “Promise me that you both will at least write to me from your luxury apartments in the city.”

“You’re thinking too small. We’ll have enough. We can buy a private plane and fly out to see you.” I turn toward Olivia. “The Osborne name will be a powerhouse. Forget the suite. We’ll own the building.”

“I just want to dance.”

“You’ll do that and more. You’ll sell out every show, and I’ll own my own restaurants. We’re not creating careers here. We’re creating an empire. Think about how happy Mom would be.”

I snap out of my daydream with the squeeze of my sister’s hand and the shutter of a camera. We’re surrounded and Olivia freezes as the cascade of questions piles higher.

“Please save all your questions for her publicists,” I say.

I grab a piece of paper from my bag and scribble on it to hand to them before hooking my arm around Olivia’s to steer her back toward her house.

“We’ve got to get you one of those,” I whisper.

“What number did you give them?”

“Mine. I’ll help you till we find you someone we can trust.”

Her eyes soften. “You’re going to get a million calls a day.”