The Billionaire's Ballet: A Contemporary Billionaire Friends to Lovers Romance (Friends with Benefits) Read Online Free Page A

summer heat meant a fitted tank top. I went with cherry red. I dug around in my closet and found my boots. Dried mud clung to the bottom and I brushed my fingers against it. The mud was six years old. Part of my life before.
    I hauled the boots out to the porch and banged them on the ground. The dirt broke away and scattered.
    I felt a lot better, like I’d shaken away some doubts. When the boots were on, I took off in a sprint for the barn. Running through the grass took me back, way before my angsty teen crush and into my childhood. I remembered when I first saw Jezebelle on a bright clear spring afternoon. When Quinn had kissed me and the whole world had split wide.
    This was home after all.
    The double doors at the end of the stable were propped open. Off in the round pen, a trainer I didn’t recognize was walking a yearling on a line. I should have asked Amelia who was still here that I would know. Mother sometimes mentioned the staff changes, but she always seemed leery of bringing up the estate, as if she didn’t want me asking about Quinn.
    Most of the doors were open, as the horses were out in the field. I double-checked Jezebelle’s stall. Her bridle and bit hung in the back and the placard over the stall still bore her name.
    My boots rang on the cement floor as I walked to the other end to head out into the pens to locate her. I’d bring her back to saddle her.
    The door to the break room opened and Sawyer, the barn manager, came out, pushing his hat down on his head. His darkly tanned skin was a little more grizzled, and the hair at his temples included a lot more gray.
    He glanced up at me, then paused, as if trying to decide if he knew me.
    I helped him out. “Sawyer, it’s me! Juliet!”
    With that, he broke out in a wide smile. “Jules! You’re not a tyke anymore!”
    I stepped into his wiry embrace. He’d always been tall and lean. And a bachelor to the core, although a rumor had gone around when I was a teen that he was sweet on the florist who came every Tuesday. He managed the barn and often broke the new horses himself.
    “Where’s my mare?” I asked.
    “We just turned them all out,” he said. “You want me to have someone fetch her for you?”
    Funny how Sawyer was treating me like a guest when the others hadn’t. “That’s okay,” I said. “I’ll go track her down.”
    “Bennett’s been riding her for you,” he said. “She’s in fine shape.”
    I headed out the back exit and climbed the gate rather than opening it. It felt good to be outside. My lungs expanded and I took in a great gulp of air. I could breathe again. In New York I spent almost all my time indoors at rehearsals.
    The horses were gathered around a water trough. I could see Jezebelle nosing her way alongside the others. She was gray-blue in the bright light and hadn’t changed a bit.
    I took a rope halter from a hook by the gate to bring her in. This was something I couldn’t do in the city. While I loved the bright lights and lifestyle, I had definitely missed the slower pace of Texas. You couldn’t just step outside to ride a horse in Chelsea.
    I talked softly as I approached the trough. A black foal startled and spirited away with high anxious steps. The others looked at me with languid eyes.
    “Jezebelle,” I said. “Come.”
    Her ears twitched, as if she, too, wasn’t sure what to make of this oddly familiar stranger. Then she lifted her nose and whinnied. I ran my hand along her mane. “It’s just me, girl. Just Jules.”
    She seemed mollified as I slid the halter on and led her back to the stable and through the gate. Sawyer waited inside with her gear. “How long are you here for?” he asked as we saddled her up.
    “A month,” I said.
    “I hear you’re doing pretty well up there in New York. A ballerina and all.”
    I cinched the rigging and adjusted the stirrups. “It’s been fun. Mother has come up for several shows.”
    “She sure is proud of you,” Sawyer said. He patted Jezebelle