She hung up, then sat back in her chair. What on earth was wrong? She flicked open her computer, saw where Dad’s accountancy software kept track of income and expenditure. Everything seemed to be fine, and with all the interest in classes, they even seemed to have a small profit for once.
Her memory flicked back to that odd conversation with Luc, where he’d been angling to find out more about the studio’s finances. She kept meaning to ask him, but then his news, or her news, or his kisses always stole such thoughts away. There was so much going on these days she could barely keep up.
These past weeks she and Luc had squeezed in dates around Luc’s training, his new commitments to the team, which seemed to involve plenty of media, plus new corporate sponsorship too. He’d been gifted a car by a local car dealership, and surprised her by driving up in a silver luxury SUV. Then there was a clothing endorsement from a Canada-wide suit company, like people were finally recognizing him for the kind of player he’d always aimed to be. He was humble about it, genuinely surprised, and she knew it was likely to tick Cindy off even more, but what was a man to do?
And what was a woman to do, when she was being gifted similar things? The clothing company that provided Luc’s game-day suits were also sponsoring her wardrobe. Of course, the price was a mention or two on their social media, but it was nice to showcase people who were willing to sponsor them.
Even now, several weeks after the final, she was still being recognized. The harassing emails and phone calls had eased, perhaps due in part to the week when she’d been without her phone, the automatic forwarding to a new number confusing a few potential students. Nothing could be done about that, her phone had been returned, the perpetrator still not found, and the police said the number came from a burner phone. At least the studio was moving on.
The sounds of tapping and thud-thumps reverberated across the floor as she continued working on more paperwork. If the enrollments stayed steady, and Poppy was to stay, maybe they would have to expand to a bigger studio with separate dance spaces. This place was good, but the office was really too small, and her apartment hardly had room for the equipment and boxes of spare shoes she liked to keep on hand. The apartment might just be big enough to fit her and Poppy, but whenever Luc visited it seemed to visibly shrink in size. She probably needed to investigate another studio space, but again, that raised the question of what that would mean for people like Morgan, whose single mother was working as hard as she could to help her daughter live her dream. Going out into the cheaper suburbs might allow more dance space, but there was no way that she could help students like Morgan as they’d really struggle to get there. Maybe she could investigate if there was an upcoming vacancy on another space in this building. But for that to happen, they’d really need to get their money issues with the bank sorted.
It was getting late by the time Poppy’s tap class finished, and she and Poppy soon got caught discussing various room options. Running classes concurrently would bring in more income, thus offsetting the initial outlay. And surely the time to strike was now, so they could capitalize on the momentum of the show, and make the most of it while they were still getting attention?
Tap tap.
Bailey jumped, head swiveling to the door. “Oh! I didn’t know you were there!”
Luc leaned against the doorframe. “You two looked completely out of it. I could’ve been a serial killer and you wouldn’t have known.”
“Thank you for that wonderful picture,” Poppy said, as Bailey lifted her cheek for Luc to kiss, before he took a seat on several boxes of spare paper.
“It’s getting late.” His forehead melded into a slight frown. “How do you manage when it’s dark? What’s your security like here?”
“We have a camera.” Bailey pointed to the room’s corner. “And there’s one at the building’s entrance.”
“But don’t you ever worry about people trespassing? The front door is always unlocked every time I’ve come here.”
“You don’t think people want to hurt us, do you?” Poppy asked.
A beat. “No.”
But his hesitation was enough to tense Bailey’s stomach. “You do you think that, don’t you?”
“Look, last I heard the police never found out who the phone call was from, right?”
She nodded.
“So yeah, I think you should be careful. At least have the two of you here on-site at all times.”
“We always do. And we have an emergency app on our phone so if there’s any issue we just press that and it alerts our folks that something is wrong.”
He winced. “Look, no offense, but Poppy’s parents won’t be able to do much, seeing they’re in Calgary. And I hate to say it, babe,” he said, looking at Bailey, “but I don’t know what your parents would be able to do in a hurry either.”
Her chest tightened. “They can call the police, that’s what they can do.”
“So why isn’t it hooked up to 911?”
Poppy glanced at her, they both shrugged. “I guess because it’s never been an issue.”
“But now might be a good time to take your safety seriously.”
“Fine.” Who knew that Luc would be so protective? Honestly, sometimes it was like he was vying with her dad in the overprotectiveness stakes. She opened the app, plugged in 911, then showed it to him. “Happy?”
He glanced at it, then her. “I’d be happier if you added my number there too.”
“So you can come and whack them with a hockey stick?”
“I’d do that if I needed.” His serious glance shifted to Poppy. “Just as I’m sure Franklin would appreciate me doing the same for you.”
Part of Bailey thrilled that he was so intense about this. But part of her heard her father’s voice complaining as she half-joked, “Hockey is such a violent sport.”
“Just wait until you watch a game. Then you’ll understand why people love it so much.” He half-smiled, but the intensity was still there. “So, have you both added my number yet?”
“You want me to do so as well?” Poppy asked.
“I consider Franklin as one of my brothers, so that makes me yours too. So yeah, put me in.”
They did, then he rose. “So, are you almost finished here? Can we go?”
“You two enjoy your date, while I eat at home alone.” Poppy mock-sighed.
Bailey shot Luc a glance, he half-lifted a shoulder like he knew what she was going to ask. She loved how their time dancing together meant she was so cued into his non-verbal communications. “You’d be welcome to join us.”
“Thanks, you’re sweet, but I don’t want to be a third wheel. I’ve got my Lean Cuisine for one, and a good scroll of my Dream Match app might help me find the man of my dreams.”
Maybe it would. Maybe it wouldn’t. But as she switched off lights and locked up, and they walked Poppy to her car and said goodbye, her fingers tangled in Luc’s as she wondered about the mysteries of how God brought people together. She leaned into his side.
“What is it?”
