Elle
The door of the limo falls open and Aaron stands in front of me, thrusts his hand forward and waits for me to take it.
I hesitate.
I've never been one to shy away from the spotlight.
I am—was a stripper. My entire persona at the club depended on being seen. Noticed.
When I was Dahlia I had no problem with commanding a room. My presence alone was enough to turn heads.
But I'm not Dahlia now, am I?
I'm Elle.
Being Dahlia meant that I knew what it felt like to bend an audience to my whim, to leave them wanting more, but being Elle... being Elle meant none of those things.
We might be the same person, but Elle and Dahlia were completely different people, and tonight proves that.
Butterflies fill my belly and when I look up, Aaron's watching me, a worrying crease forming at his
