The Intern's Latin Dance
Sandra Kinsey's dance studio was where she buried her passion.
It was also our secret place. No one else was allowed in. No one but me.
Until one day, her assistant barged in, using a love for Latin dance as an excuse, and danced with her intimately.
Sandra didn't push him away.
That was the moment I knew—you can't make someone stay when their heart has already left.
I stripped her of her authority, took over the company myself, and gave Sandra all the freedom she could ever ask for.
But later, eyes red and voice trembling, she looked at me and demanded to know why.
I sat on the couch and glanced at her with indifference.
"Freedom," I said, "always comes at a price. Doesn't it?"