Billionaires Don’t Fall For Awkward Girls by Emma Dalton
Chapter Seven
Scrubbing toilets…not the best gig on the planet, especially when I have to clean up after little kids.
Mind over matter, right? I’d clean a million toilets if it meant I could have free dance lessons. So what are a few measly, dirty, smelly toilets? Eyes on the prize, Dani. That Broadway dream is so in my reach…
Once I’m done with the bathrooms, I mop the vacant dance studios and the hallway. Another cleaner comes in the evenings to clean the studios that are currently in use. I try to keep my focus on my work and not on the high school kids who are in the middle of a ballet lesson.
Just as I finish stashing away the cleaning supplies, I hear a commotion in Studio A. I peek out of the closet, and my eyes widen to epic proportions when I notice a reporter and a cameraman.
Some of the kids are rushing into the room, others calling for their friends to come. I shut the closet and make my way to the studio and look inside. The room is packed with dancers and instructors, and the owner of the studio, Andrea Miller.
“Dani!” Jasmine waves me over. “Come quickly.”
Still confused, I walk inside, noticing the reporter doing a mic check. “What’s going on?” I ask Jasmine.
She shrugs. “No clue. Andrea asked everyone to gather in here for a special announcement.”
Some of the parents of little kids grow impatient and gather their kids and leave, but mostly everyone waits for…whatever to happen. Good thing I’m not working at Mikey’s Diner this afternoon, or I’d have to leave too.
Andrea is frantically whispering into her phone. I can’t deny that huge, secretive smile on her face. I’m going out of my mind here. What on Earth is happening?
And then my jaw hits the floor. Because Easton Knight, one of the richest people in the world, strides into the room with his beautiful wife Celine at his side. Both are dressed impeccably. Like they’re going to a fancy dinner.
“What are they doing here?” My eyes grow so large I swear they’ll pop off my face. “Oh my gosh, what’s he doing here?”
Easton Knight Jr. follows his parents inside, he too dressed perfectly. He’s got a smile on his face that makes him look so darn sexy it’s not fair.
Andrea shakes Mr. Knight’s hand, then Celine’s, and finally their son’s. All the kids and instructors whisper and point and giggle, everyone wondering why this wealthy family is standing in our little dance studio.
“My, he’s so dreamy,” Jasmine murmurs.
I look at her and realize she’s referring to the son and not that dad.
“What?” I practically explode. “He’s not dreamy. Not at all. That guy doesn’t have an ounce of dreaminess in him. I bet if you’d slice him open and take a bite, the only flavor you’d taste is bitterness.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “You have beef with him or something? You don’t even know him.”
I angrily fold my arms over my chest. “Oh, I know him all right. He goes to my school.”
Her brows furrow. “He does? I thought he goes to a prestigious boarding school in London.”
“Wish he did,” I mutter under my breath. “Then I wouldn’t have to see him every day.”
Andrea walks to the front of the room and claps her hands for attention. While she does that, the reporter nods to the cameraman and he starts recording. “Attention, everyone! Thank you for gathering here on this fine Saturday afternoon. I have something amazing to share with you.” She gestures to the Knight family, who are standing near her looking like they belong in a magazine. “Easton Knight and his family are here today to bestow their benevolence on us. So without further ado, please welcome Easton Knight!”
Everyone claps as the dad steps forward. He flashes a charismatic smile at everyone, particularly at the camera that’s angled toward him. “Hello, everyone,” he says in a deep, masculine voice. “When I look around the room, I see the future. Bright young people who will one day change the world and make it a happier and safer place to live in.” His eyes continue sweeping the room, taking in nearly every single face. The man definitely knows how to address a crowd. I feel like he’s talking to me personally. “My family and I want to give back to the community and help you kids on your journey to greatness.” He gestures to his wife and son, who step forward and stand by his side.
Easton looks so cool and charismatic up there, a total copy of his dad. I’m not surprised that many of the older girls, and the instructors too, sigh as they take in that specimen of hotness standing there looking so divine.
I nearly stumble back when his eyes suddenly land on me. His eyebrows crease like he’s confused what I’m doing here. I cross my arms over my chest and yank my eyes away from him, lifting my head like I couldn’t give two feathers that he’s here. Might as well be the wallpaper because he’s nothing to me.
“Which is why we’ve established the Genevieve Knight Foundation, in honor of my late mother who loved to dance,” Mr. Knight is in the middle of saying. “It’s a scholarship for children ages twelve and under so they could dance and do incredible things with their lives. And we’ll also be adding an expansion to the studio so many more kids can learn to dance and have fun.”
The instructors and parents clap, the parents looking like he just threw a million dollars at them. Wow, that’s pretty cool of him. I know a lot of kids want to take lessons but can’t afford them. They can’t clean toilets or have after-school jobs like me. I would have loved to have this opportunity as a kid. And with this new expansion? The place will be bustling with kids. That’s amazing.
I clap with everyone else, smiling at Jasmine whose face is so bright she nearly blinds me. She and some of the other instructors go up to shake their hands, telling them how grateful they are.
Feeling a pair of eyes on me, I glance at Easton Knight Jr., and sure enough, his gaze is locked on mine. I tear my eyes away.
The reporter speaks to the camera and then does a quick interview with the Knights, Andrea, and some of the instructors, students and their parents. From the way the Knights present themselves, it’s pretty obvious they’ve been doing this kind of thing for a while now.
It must be another hour before things calm down and the Knights leave. I would have left earlier if I could have made it out the door. It was blocked by all the people wishing to exchange a word with the Knights and the reporters interviewing everyone.
“My goodness,” Jasmine sighs as she falls on a chair. “Never in my wildest dreams did I think this would happen. We’re so blessed.”
“Yeah.” I smile. “You’ll teach so many kids to dance now.”
“The Knights are so kind. We’ll have to send them a thank you basket.”
“Yeah,” I mutter as I throw my bag over my shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Jasmine.”
As I make my way out the door, I try not to feel bitter. The Knights are doing a great thing. But their son…ugh, he leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I know, I know, my friends keep telling me to let go of my grudge. But I can’t help it—the guy was rude to me for no reason. I always strive to be kind to people, a lesson Mom ingrained in me since I was a kid. But I’m not as good-hearted as her. She’s nice to the jerks at school who make fun of her. True she doesn’t know they make fun of her, but she has a policy to be nice to everyone. I try to be like her, but why should I be nice to a guy who made me feel so crappy about myself? He doesn’t deserve for me to even acknowledge that he exists. I hope he doesn’t come to the studio again.