Your First Love is Pregnant? I'm Done Being Mrs. Hawthorne!

### Chapter 103: Who Is the True Center?

Nina Wainwright spent a week in the hospital before being discharged.

Early in the morning, she went to The Moonlight Bar.

Leo Larkin had heard about her family situation from Catherine Grant. Seeing how much weight she had lost in just a week, he offered some words of concern in his capacity as her boss. "If you’re still not feeling well, you can resign. I’ll have accounting settle your final pay."

"I am here to resign, but I was hoping I could still work part-time here occasionally." Nina Wainwright looked him in the eye, her voice tinged with apology.

He had only let her keep this job in the first place as a favor to Catherine Grant.

Leo Larkin stared at her for a long moment before speaking. "You know, you could really focus on learning mixology here. The drinks you make are different from a typical bartender’s. In our line of work, that means you have a gift."

Nina Wainwright smiled. "My dance instructor says I have a gift for dancing, too. How can one person have so many gifts?"

She just assumed Leo Larkin was saying it to get her to stay.

Nina Wainwright had never even properly tasted the drinks she made, nor did she know much about cocktail culture. She really didn’t think she had any talent in this area.

"Do I look like I’m joking?" Leo Larkin asked, his tone icy.

His dead-serious expression made Nina Wainwright feel awkward. She raised a hand to scratch her head and said in a low voice, "I don’t have a lot of time, but I can taste alcohol now, and my body is perfectly capable of handling any work here."

Leo Larkin put down the glass he was holding, his tone casual. "Just come by when you have time. I’ll pay you by the hour."

"Thank you," Nina Wainwright said politely.

Leo Larkin averted his gaze, his expression stern, but his voice softened slightly as he said, "My condolences."

Nina Wainwright looked at him, a slight smile on her lips. "I know."

’A week has passed. I have to pull myself together and move forward. Only then can I one day return to the day it all happened, find the people who destroyed my family, and make them face the full force of the law.’

She mixed herself one of her own creations, the Bamboo.

The drink was now a bestseller at The Moonlight Bar. Everyone said it felt like it had a story behind it, but since she had been pregnant, she had never truly tasted it herself.

Sitting at a table, she sipped it slowly.

The first sip was bitter, but not in a harsh, astringent way. Instead, it carried a sorrowful quality, like the bitterness of enduring hardship. After she finished and waited a moment, the taste still lingered on her palate.

Nina Wainwright stared at the drink for a long while before turning to Leo Larkin, who was nearby. "So this is what Bamboo tastes like. I originally named it that because I thought it should have the unyielding spirit of bamboo facing a bitter wind. That’s why I made it this way."

"A good cocktail is one that can evoke a thousand different emotions from a thousand different people," Leo Larkin said.

He had to admire Nina Wainwright’s associative way of thinking.

But imaginative people know how to innovate, and innovation is the only way to progress.

Nina Wainwright didn’t reply, simply finishing the rest of her drink.

After she finished, she headed to Sandra Walsh’s studio.

The moment Sandra Walsh saw her, she pulled her into the rehearsal room and introduced her to the girls who were practicing. "From now on, she’ll be rehearsing with you. For the year-end tour, whoever dances the best gets to be the center. Any objections?"

The dance studio was filled with young women, all of them beautiful, with excellent figures.

Hearing Sandra Walsh’s words, they just nodded at Nina Wainwright, their attitudes lukewarm at best.

Sandra Walsh pulled Nina Wainwright aside to sit down. "Watch them for a while first. When you feel up to it, you can join in."

"What are they dancing?" Nina Wainwright asked her.

Sandra Walsh smiled. "It’s a piece we choreographed, a classical ballet. We haven’t decided on a name for it yet."

Nina Wainwright said, "Oh," and focused her attention on the dancers.

The classical ballet emphasized an ethereal quality, lightness, and an exotic flair.

Watching the girls practice, Nina Wainwright couldn’t help but comment, "A few years ago, I saw a dance on TV that mixed classical ballet and the Vajra Dance. A lot of people loved it. It blended strength and grace, and I thought it was very creative."

"I saw that dance too, but you can’t always just copy others. You have to have some variation," Sandra Walsh said with a smile.

Nina Wainwright felt this choreography was lacking a distinctive feature.

But since Sandra Walsh was clearly satisfied with it, she didn’t feel it was her place to say more.

As Nina Wainwright watched, she couldn’t suppress a yawn.

Sandra Walsh noticed immediately and said with displeasure, "Do you think their dancing is bad, or is your mind just not on this right now?"

Nina Wainwright was a bit embarrassed and quickly explained, "Ms. Walsh, I just think the dance is a little boring."

"Is it because there’s no music?" After hearing her comment, Sandra Walsh couldn’t help but watch the dance more critically herself.

"The music helps, but the dance itself just doesn’t have a captivating element," Nina Wainwright said bluntly.

Sandra Walsh frowned and said no more.

Seeing Sandra Walsh’s unhappy expression, Nina Wainwright quickly added, "I’m not saying the dance is bad, just that it lacks a soul."

"I’m not mad at you." In truth, Sandra Walsh was very satisfied with this dance. Her students and everyone else who had seen it had all said it was excellent.

But Nina Wainwright was the first person who dared to say it wasn’t good.

’Maybe they’re just flattering me because they’re intimidated by my status or position.’

But Nina Wainwright was a fresh face, an outsider looking in.

If a spectator seeing the dance for the first time found it unattractive and uninteresting, then that was most likely a fair assessment.

"I’ll give it some more thought," Sandra Walsh said, deflated.

"You could actually add some more difficult movements, but they’d have to match the music," Nina Wainwright replied with a serious expression.

"If we’re going to revise it... we’ll have to re-choreograph it. This time, you’ll work with me." After saying this, Sandra Walsh stood up and pulled her away.

The girls stopped dancing.

Nina Wainwright followed Sandra Walsh to her office.

Sandra Walsh opened her computer and played a video of the dance.

The video used virtual avatars to perform the dance. The movements were executed perfectly, and paired with some passionate music, it looked decent enough.

"So, where do you think it can be improved?" Sandra Walsh asked, her expression grave.

"I know using wire-work is a bit tricky these days, but... this is a stage performance, right?" Nina Wainwright asked Sandra Walsh.

Sandra Walsh nodded. "Yes, it’s a stage performance. Why?"

Nina Wainwright said in a low voice, "For a stage performance, you can add wire-work. Since it’s a classical ballet, you have to consider elements like flight."

"I originally wanted to use wire-work, but all the girls are afraid of heights." Sandra Walsh was in a difficult position.

The girls studying dance these days all come from well-off families, and their parents treat them like precious darlings.

She would love to incorporate wire-work, but if the girls were all afraid, she was also afraid of an accident.*****