1. Ashford
ONE
Ashford
“Hold on, you did what ?”
Dixie arched a white eyebrow. “You might want to adjust that sassy tone, hon.”
I crossed my arms, fully aware of the way it made my pecs and biceps bulge, but Dixie was not impressed. She was five-foot-nothing and had celebrated her seventy-ninth birthday, again and again, each of the last several years. I was about three times her size and had black belts in three different fighting styles.
Yet my landlady’s iron stare put me in my place like I was a little kid instead of a thirty-four-year-old man. Every damn time. Probably because she’d known me since I was in diapers.
“I’m just surprised,” I grumbled. “This is coming out of the blue.”
“Hardly. I gave you notice of the new commercial lease terms a couple months back.”
“And I said I’d find a way to pay you the higher rent. I’ve been working on it.”
“Sure, dear, but wishes and hopes aren’t going to pay for my condo on Miami Beach. Not trying to be harsh here. It’s just true.”
Noisy voices and laughter filtered over from the lobby. Parents arriving with their kids for my afternoon Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu class. For the last several years, O’Neal Martial Arts had been operating from this storefront a block off Main Street. We got enough business to keep the lights on. Personal training on the side paid well per hour, and I’d slowly been adding to my roster of clients. Very slowly.
But growing a business in our small mountain town was a challenge. Add in health care and taxes, keeping our apartment habitable and my kiddo happy and occupied now that it was summer break…
I was struggling. Yet it was a sucker punch to the chest to have Dixie come in here today and make it so painfully obvious.
I couldn’t cover the increase in rent, so she was going to lease out the commercial space to someone else during the mornings. My space. What the hell?
Dixie patted my forearm. “You’ll only have to turn over the classroom for a few hours a day. The new renter is a music teacher. Needs a place to hold parent-and-tot music classes for the summer, and this building is a perfect fit.”
“What about my personal training clients?”
That eyebrow of hers made another trek upward. “Like I don’t see you with your clipboard over at the gym when I’m taking my Zumba classes.”
Okay, that was fair. I didn’t have a gym setup here, so I usually met my private training clients elsewhere. But I’d been thinking of hiring another teacher and expanding our class offerings. There was no way I could do any of that if I lost my training room for half of each day.
“Who is this so-called music teacher? I don’t know any music teachers in Silver Ridge.” Except for Mrs. Stuckey, who’d been giving piano lessons out of her basement for the last hundred years or so. I couldn’t imagine Mrs. Stuckey leading a roomful of screaming toddlers through nursery rhymes.
“Her name is Emma Jennings. She’s arriving soon from California.”
“ California ?” I sputtered.
The vein at my temple twitched. My blood pressure was probably reaching unhealthy levels. This was my turf, and now I’d have to make room for some carpetbagger who wasn’t even from our town.
My daughter and I lived in the apartment upstairs. It was a separate rental, effectively giving us the whole building. I didn’t want some stranger hanging around and nosing into my private business.
Also, I didn’t like the name Emma Jennings . Couldn’t say why. She sounded unpleasant. And trust me, I knew a thing or two about unpleasant.
“What if Maisie doesn’t like this woman?” An even worse idea occurred to me. “What if this Jennings woman doesn’t like Maisie?”
“Who wouldn’t like Maisie? She’s a doll.”
“Exactly. We don’t know.”
Dixie tutted. “Emma has family over in Hartley and comes well-recommended. But you’re missing my point. She already signed her lease, and it starts the first of the month. The deal is done. So stop being an overgrown baby and accept it, Ashford O’Neal.”
Groaning, I tipped my head back and glared at the low ceiling of my tiny office. This sucked. Because deep down, I knew Dixie was doing me a favor. She’d been charging me below-market rates for years. Now she’d found another way to cover the rent increase until I could make it work myself. If I could ever make it work.
I rubbed a hand over my beard. “Okay. I’ll give it a try. But I’ll have the higher rent for you soon. I’ll figure it out somehow. Just in case this summer person is unreliable and falls through.”
“Works for me.”
“I appreciate you giving me a deal on the rent for so long.”
“Oh, don’t even mention that.” Dixie glanced at the huge rose-gold watch on her tiny wrist. “Is it about time for those tykes to do their kickboxing? I want to stay and watch. It’s so stinking cute.”
“It’s a grappling art, not kickboxing, but…yeah. Sure.”
Still reeling from Dixie’s news, I left the office and went down the hall to where the kids had gathered in the lobby. My gaze went straight to Maisie, as if drawn by a magnet.
My little girl. I loved my family and friends, and I’d do anything for them. No matter how much they might get on my last nerve. But always, always , Maisie was my number one.
She had my chestnut-brown hair. My straight brows, which usually looked more worried than a six-year-old’s should. And she had Lori’s delicate nose, heart-shaped face, and emerald-green eyes.
The memory of my best friend twanged a hollow place in my chest.
Maisie made a beeline in my direction. “The big hand on the clock is close to the top, Daddy. You were almost late.”
“ Almost doesn’t count. I was just chatting with Miss Dixie.” I leaned down to smooth Maisie’s hair and kiss the top of it, sneaking a quick whiff of her strawberry-soap scent. Same thing Lori used to do. It calmed me like nothing else.
Standing, I raised my voice and said, “Let’s go, class! Who’s ready to rock?” I opened the door to the training room, and the kids flooded inside. “Ollie, hands to yourself. Quiet down, everyone. Who remembers what we talked about last week? What’s the best kind of fight?”
“One with a flying spin kick!” somebody shouted.
“No. Especially not in jiu-jitsu. Who knows the real answer? What’s the best kind of fight?”
“One we can stop before it starts,” Maisie recited.
“Exactly.” That’s my girl , I thought. “We only fight if we have no other alternative.”
Except life had a tendency to knock your feet out from beneath you with a flying spin kick just when you thought things were okay. I wasn’t talking about rent increases, either.
Bad shit happened, and good guys didn’t always win.
I wanted to keep that harsh reality away from my daughter for as long as I possibly could.