"It's one of my favorite ballets ever. This is incredible."
"You're incredible," he said and was surprised when she frowned.
"It's in Los Angeles," she said. "My father's never going to let me go."
"Really? Not even to the ballet? It's cultural."
She lifted her shoulders, and it killed him the way she seemed to be sinking into herself. He hadn't met her dad, but she'd told him enough. And Wyatt had seen the man, too. Leonard Draper worked ten-hour days at the club, so even though he was usually out on the golf course or overseeing the maintenance of the shrubs and flowers in the various public areas, he was around enough that Wyatt had managed to pick him out. A lean, lanky man with a hard face and the leathery skin of someone who'd worked outside his whole life.
Only his eyes reminded him of Kelsey. But where hers were as blue as the Caribbean, his seemed as distant and cold as a glacier.
Wyatt watched her face, now drained of the joy that had lit her from within only a few moments before. Bastard. He didn't know what Leonard Draper's problem was, but he knew it pissed him off. And that if the rules he made regarding his daughter denied Kelsey access to all the things she loved, then the rules were stupid.
And Wyatt didn't have a problem breaking stupid rules.
"We don't have to tell your dad," he said.
Her eyes went wide. "If he ever found out . . . I mean, the dance competition was here. And he was out of town. And I could have just told him I got a ticket all on my own because I wanted to see the dancing. I would have gotten in trouble, but not for being with a boy. But this? If he finds out. . . ." She shuddered. "Not telling him would be as bad as going to the ballet in the first place."
"What does he have against the ballet?"
"He . . . he just doesn't think it's right for me. Watching it is okay. But not watching it with a boy all the way in Los Angeles."
"Do you have any girlfriends here?"
For a moment, she looked at him blankly. Then her eyes went wide, and she hugged herself, then looked at her watch. "I need to run. I've got to get Griffin."
"No, you don't," he said, with a quick glance at his own watch. "You've got at least five more minutes." But he was saying the last to the air. Kelsey had already sprinted away.
Damn.
He kicked himself for even suggesting it. He should have known she wasn't the kind of girl who'd go against her parents, even if the law her parents set down was stupid.
He told himself he'd apologize when he saw her the next day, and then the next day he had to kick himself even harder, because she managed to avoid him altogether.
He'd screwed it up. He'd gone and completely screwed it up.
Two entire days later he still hadn't seen her. He spent the afternoon swimming laps, and realized that she must have asked to switch her schedule around, because she didn't wipe down one single table the entire time he was there.
He finally gave up and headed to his car, all the while wondering as to the best tactic for groveling his way back into her good graces. But when he arrived at the parking lot and saw her leaning against the BMW he'd borrowed from the fleet his grandmother kept in Santa Barbara, his heart skipped a beat as a flicker of hope settled in his chest.
Maybe--just maybe--he hadn't screwed this up too bad.
"Hi," he said, half-afraid he was hallucinating.
"My friend Joy lives here during the summers." She drew a breath as if for courage. "I could say I was staying with her next Friday."
"You'd be okay with that?" His heart was pounding so loud he was certain she could hear it. "You're not exactly the rule-breaking kind, Kelsey Draper. And I don't want--"
"What?"
It was his turn to suck in air. "I don't want you to resent me if you get in trouble. Or even if you just feel guilty."
She shoved her hands in the pockets of her shorts and nodded. "That's sweet." She looked down at the pavement. "And--and well, I probably will feel guilty. But I think you're worth it," she added, tilting her head up to look at him.
"Yeah?"
She nodded, her entire face lighting up as she smiled.