AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER17
Penelope
My sandals clickon the polished wood floor. Mirrors cover the walls on two sides. Pierre is next to me, his hands clasped. “I can’t believe this place.” This is the third time he’s said it.
“There are two separate locker rooms and a separate bathroom.” I turn and spread my hands out. The real estate agent stands by the door, content to let Pierre and me roam. “We can even put a few chairs up for parents who want to stay and watch.”
A delighted squeal escapes from him. “This space is so large, we can put on an entire show inside.”
My mind is already running with the potential. Not only does the studio have the largest practice area I’ve ever seen and extra preparation area, but it also has two extra spaces that can be used for offices, and behind those rooms, there’s plenty of storage.
The studio itself is in the same building as an apparel company, one that specializes in dance and performance wear. I can give beginner ballet lessons, and the students can go next door for any practice item they might need or to get their slippers repaired. I can teach ballroom, and the students can get fitted for custom footwear and order their costumes next door. Those costumes can also be tailored by our neighbor. I could teach hip-hop or any other form of dance, and everything my students would need would be one door over. This place is the epitome of convenience.
Pierre holds his phone up and slowly rotates, describing everything he’s recording. He goes to the locker rooms and dips into the offices, and when he comes out, he points his phone at me. “And this is the dream maker.”
I grin and wave.
Another man’s voice says, “That place is spectacular.”
“Hi, Juan Pablo.”
“Hey, Penni. The kids are really excited.” Juan Pablo decided to retire from competition, but he jokes that he’s driving his wife crazy. When I approached him about opening another studio and perhaps expanding, he was thrilled. He nearly tackled me with an enthusiastic yes when I asked him to consider being one of my instructors.
“Would you like to see this place in person before I decide?”
“No, I trust you and Pierre. Is Myles coming on board?”
Pierre spins around so we’re both in the camera frame. “He’d love to teach a class or two. He thought his tap days were behind him, but Penni’s his dream maker too.”
I went from a swan to a dream maker. Why can’t I be both? A steady state of sadness underlies all my thoughts. I miss Cannon. But it’s been a busy few weeks. The lawyers my father connected me with work ruthlessly fast and efficiently. I’m free of Roman and the crimes he left behind, and I’m equipped to move forward.
“I can’t achieve my dreams without all of you.” Another punch of melancholy. The only thing that could make this better would be Cannon tossing his slippers into the ring. But I can’t project what I want onto him. He had to decide that for himself, and he did. “So, really, you’re the dream makers.”
Pierre finishes chattering with Juan Pablo and then calls Myles to give him a video tour.
I cross to the real estate agent. “This spot is perfect.”
She pulls up a tablet and taps on the screen. “That’s great. I’ll pull up all the details, the cost for rent, the contract—”
“Oh, no. I’m sorry I wasn’t clear. I want to buy the whole building.” My destiny won’t be in anyone else’s hands ever again.
Three weeks later,I close on the deal. I’m ready to open another studio. I drive in my new-but-used BMW to Mother’s place. I haven’t moved out, and I probably won’t. The commute from Beverly Hills to my studio in Anaheim is a consideration, but it also gives me plenty of time to gather my thoughts and listen to podcasts about finance and running my own business. Eventually, I’ll move closer to my work, but for now I’m enjoying living with Mother.
We talk about my friends and our jobs, and she shares what she’s learned in business. She’s supportive of mine, encouraging in a way she never was before. And she continues to ask for my help as the face of her company to draw in the younger generation. Dabbling in modeling has been fun—but with a new photographer. She insists on paying me. I donate the money to a women’s shelter. Not everyone has a Cannon to save them from an abusive partner, but it doesn’t mean I’m powerless.
I enter the code to get through the gate. My heart thuds when I spot a familiar SUV parked in the same spot to the left of the front door where Cannon used to park.
My heart nearly slams to a stop when I spot the tall, achingly handsome man leaning against the hood. His dirty-blond hair hangs over his brow, but the sides are brushed back. He’s not shaggy like he used to be, but a clean cut wouldn’t fit him. This look does.
I park behind the SUV, and by the time I get out, he’s within feet of me. I don’t dare get my hopes up, not after the last time. I keep my distance.
“I missed you,” he says in lieu of a greeting.
“I missed you too,” I say quietly. I fold my arms across my chest to keep from flinging myself at him. I did that when he was here last time, and it didn’t help. “Jacobi said you’ve been out of town. I thought you moved.”
“I gave up my apartment, yes. But I haven’t exactly moved.”
“Oh.” The only thing that cleared up was to tell me he’s still lost. He’s afraid to commit. “What are you doing here? Did you forget something?”
