The sound of amused laughter and cheers from the people in the lounge echoed. Cassandra wanted to cry, tears began to seep out, and she had no choice but to comply with the customer's demands.
Her voluptuous figure was about to rise from the sofa, but her arm was grabbed by Anthony before she could.
“I must apologize to you, John, that Cassandra probably can't dance as you and your friends want.”
She glanced up at Anthony, seeing only a sharp profile.
“Why not? Or is it that your brother's secretary can't dance?”
Anthony gave a slight smile and turned to look her in the eyes.
“Who says so? Cassandra dances very well, actually.”
John and his friends exchanged glances and spoke in disbelief.
“If she really dances well, then why won't she dance for us? I think it's just all talk.”
An
