I pushed Frank away. He stumbled back and looked at me in bewilderment.
“Ava?” He held his hands up. “What’s wrong?”
“What are you doing?” I demanded, thinking back to Mr. Dillon, my previous supervisor, and the way I misconstrued his advances for praise in the beginning. Was this happening again?
“It’s a dance lesson,” Frank reassured me, taking a step closer. “Ethan told me you struggled dancing. He asked me to teach you.”
My heart thrummed hard in my chest, the fear subsiding and being replaced with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry,” I bowed my head. I felt bad for assuming the worst of Frank and thinking he would act similarly to the gross men I knew before. Frank was no such kind of man, he was practically an angel.
I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, he was too professional for that.
