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"I need to be more assertive," Arabella reminded herself with a sigh. Having grown up with parents who fought constantly, she'd spent countless hours in her room and immersed herself in music and dance, drowning out the yelling. She'd left home as soon as she landed her first choreography job. Although Arabella presented herself as being feisty, she hated arguing, despised confrontation, and consequently backed away or fled at the first sign of conflict both in business and in social situations. The only person she consistently argued with was herself, not always understanding if she won the arguments or lost. "Not good for the old love life, that's for sure," she said, and then rolled her eyes. "Who am I kidding? What love life?" Being an only child, Arabella had developed a habit of talking to herself, something she thought everybody did only to learn later in life that it wasn't the case.
After another long, drawn-out sigh, Arabella swiveled her chair around and gazed out the picture window, but the cheerful California sunshine failed to lift her spirits. When was the last time she'd hung out with friends or had a date? She tried to blame her lack of dating on her busy lifestyle. In truth, she'd been trying to find the same endless passion she'd once shared with a certain boy-band heartthrob from her past and always came up short. But she didn't hold Grady Heart accountable for her failed relationships. Arabella took responsibility for her fears, feelings, and failures. After witnessing her parents placing constant blame on each other, Arabella tried not to play that destructive game. Still, she had to wonder: What might have happened if she hadn't caught Grady cheating that fateful night?
Was it fair to blame Grady for what had happened after she fled? Maybe not . . . but holding him accountable helped to ease the pain that continued to show up in her brain uninvited.
"Oh, damn." A hot lump of emotion clogged her throat, but she gave her head a determined shake. Nope, feeling sorry for herself wouldn't solve anything. She'd found that out long ago. Crying buckets of tears also didn't solve anything, and puffy eyes were not attractive. "Maybe I need some corn-silk tea," she said, and managed to chuckle.
When times were tough, Arabella tried to find ways to laugh. Without her sense of humor, she didn't know how she would have gotten through some of the dark days of her childhood. Her mother laughed, but only when her father wasn't around. When her father walked into the house, usually late, the whole mood instantly changed and the fighting would begin.
Thankfully, when her parents' fights were too loud to handle, Arabella would escape to Granny York's house. She and Granny would bake sugar cookies, listen to music, and dance around the small living room. In a time of chaos, Granny York had been the voice of gentle reason, bringing quiet peace into a world way too loud for a scared little girl.
"Ah, Granny, I miss you." Arabella couldn't stop a hot tear from sliding down her cheek. Her grandmother was the only person who knew what had happened after Arabella left Grady, and she had taken her granddaughter's secret to her grave.
Lost in thought, Arabella watched the palm trees swaying in the breeze, wishing she had time to go to the beach. It occurred to her that perhaps she should sell Hip, Hop, Health and go back to choreography so she could pick and choose her jobs and make time for travel . . . and perhaps she could even seek a relationship. But after she'd left Heartbeat, choreography had lost some of its magic. Like her love for Grady, no other job could live up to the fun she'd had with the Heart brothers.
"You can't move forward by looking back," Arabella whispered, and then: "Why am I whispering?" With a groan, she wondered where the stress ball had rolled off to.
Arabella's stomach rumbled in polite protest over missing lunch, but none of the healthy options going through her head sounded appetizing. She finally grinned, thinking she should go for a big slice of deep-dish pizza or a giant double cheeseburger just to defy Queen Vegan, Maxine. Oh, and a soft, chewy sugar cookie with a glass of whole milk for dessert. Ha!
Her stomach growled in earnest this time.
Arabella patted her midsection. "I hear ya." In all honesty, she believed in healthy eating and encouraged her clients to choose their food with care. But she wasn't opposed to treating herself to something decadent here and there. She didn't consider a bit of dessert cheating.
Seriously, who could live without cherry cheesecake?
Arabella's tummy gave her an are-you-kidding-me rumble that resembled the sound of a motorcycle revving up. Of course, her weak stomach always reacted to her emotions, usually at the most awkward times, like in a crowded elevator. With a sigh, she spun around and searched through her top drawer in the hope of finding her secret stash of chocolate, but only came up with a mangled peanut butter protein bar. Wrinkling her nose, Arabella unwrapped the top. After taking a sniff, she bit into the bar. It was thick and difficult to chew, giving her molars a workout. "Wow, this is gross. Peanut butter? Uh . . . no." She tossed the bar onto her desk, deciding to walk down the street for takeout of some sort, but her cell phone rang before she could get up.