Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
“…a nd that’s why we need to be careful with our arabesques.”
Morgan nodded, as her mother waved from the studio’s glass door. “Looks like your mom is here.”
“Thanks, Miss Bailey.”
“You’re always very welcome.”
The teenager completed her curtsy goodbye then moved to the side to change her shoes as her mom entered, gesturing like she wanted to have a private word.
Bailey smiled. “Hi Jane. Morgan is doing so well. I think she’ll be ready to start her Grade five RAD ballet exams soon.”
“Oh, it’s so wonderful to think after all she’s overcome that she might finally step into her dream.”
Bailey’s gaze fell on Morgan, whose dad had died in a car accident that had caused significant injuries to the girl, and made her question whether she’d ever dance again. Bailey hadn’t charged Morgan’s mom standard rates for the past year, insisting an anonymous donor had heard about her situation and paid. The anonymous donor was Bailey, and perhaps her grandmother who was probably watching down from heaven, and who Bailey figured would more than approve. “I remember what it was like.”
“And now look at you.” Jane glanced around the studio, then placed a hand on her heart. “I don’t know if you get told this enough, but thank you for helping children like my Morgan. The other schools were all so expensive, but to know she can come here and receive top-class training, it really means so much.”
“It’s what I love to do.”
“And we can tell. The other parents and I often say how lucky we are to have you.”
Bailey blinked back emotion. “You’re so sweet.”
“Now I know it seems greedy, especially as you’re no doubt full to the brim of new students after your TV show, but will you still have time for more private lessons like this?”
“Morgan is a priority for me.” She’d make it work. Somehow.
“I know she enjoys the classes with the other girls, but she always says she gets more out of the solo time.” Jane leaned closer. “Personally, I think it’s because she’s hoping to see your boyfriend, but then, aren’t we all?”
Bailey chuckled. It had been a little obvious the number of people who wanted to check him out. She was still fielding questions most days about her TV dance partner. “He’s been busy with hockey.”
“But never too busy for you, I’m sure.”
She shrugged. While he was plenty busy, with everything from hospital visits to cancer fundraising dinners, he’d made a serious effort these past weeks, making time among his schedule to invite her to meet some of his friends and teammates. She enjoyed seeing this part of his world, and couldn’t wait to watch his first game in a few weeks, a preseason matchup against Vancouver which would see her meet Chris Thomas again. Apparently she and Poppy would have seats in the WAG section, where the wives and girlfriends and families hung out. She was excited to meet some more of them.
Her phone—freshly returned from the police as they continued their investigations—rang, and she noticed it was the bank. Odd. Why would they be calling so late in the day? It was past their usual close of day. “I’m sorry. I need to take this call.”
She waved a hand at Morgan and moved to the office, as Poppy stretched, readying for her tap class with the preteen boys. She closed the door and sank onto her chair. “Hello? Mr. Mitsom?”
“Bailey, I’m glad I caught you. Look, we need to have you make an appointment and discuss a few more things.”
“I’m sorry, but why?”
“There are a few other matters that need attention. Look, can I pencil you in for tomorrow, say two PM?”
She glanced at her schedule. “I’m sorry, I’m booked all day.”
“How about the next at, say, five?”
“Same thing, I’m sorry. Would the following day work?”
“That’s the weekend, and I don’t work Saturdays.”
Lucky him. “Can’t you just tell me over the phone?”
“I’m afraid it’s not our policy to discuss these, er, kinds of matters except in person.”
“What about an email?”
“An email is not in person, is it?”
No. “Okay, look, I’ll try to juggle things and make it on Friday. Five did you say?”
“Yes. Thank you. See you then.”
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?”
“You. Well, you and me. I’m constantly amazed at how God brings people together.”
“Like two opposites like us, huh?”
“We’re not that opposite. Both Christians, and—”
“Both athletes.”
She smiled. “Both extremely witty.”
“For sure. And both trying to make the world a better place.”
Her heart grew soft. His work in recent weeks, shining a light on cancer, visiting local hospitals and partnering with a food drive, certainly made that claim true. “You’re so sweet and thoughtful, aren’t you?”
“Yep, that’s me.”
His dry tone made her chuckle, which drew his smile, as he gathered her close.
“Speaking of being thoughtful, I can’t help but think about you, like nearly all the time.”
“Only nearly?” she teased.
“Sometimes I sleep. But even then I dream of a certain ballerina with the most beautiful eyes, whose laughter always makes me smile.” He bent down and kissed her.
“Luc, people are looking,” she protested, as he stole another kiss.
“Let them look. We’ve kissed on national TV.”
And seeing he didn’t mind such an overt example of PDA, she decided to go with it too. And thanked God that He knew what He was doing in bringing this man into her life.
* * *
“So, who’s ready for preseason?” Jai asked.
Luc clasped his head and rocked back on his chair as the others in the video chat answered. “Can’t wait.”
“Bring it on.”
“We’re gonna crush you guys,” Chris said to Luc, the remembrance of his words all those weeks ago drawing his smile.
“You’re gonna try and everyone is gonna watch you fail.”
“Ooh, the new captain sounds feisty.” Franklin laughed. “I should tell Hannah that words are being exchanged and a smackdown is a’comin’.”
“Speaking nothing but the truth here,” Luc drawled.
“Same,” Chris said.
“Well, all eyes will be on Winnipeg for that game, won’t they?” Mike said.
“How is Bailey with it all?” Ryan asked.
“She’s saying the right things. She’s met a few of the guys and their wives now, met Coach Frantzen, and it’s all gone well.”
“It’s gonna be fun to see how she handles seeing the real Luc, instead of the soft dude who likes to waltz on ice.”
“Please.” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as the others laughed at Ryan’s comment. “There’s nothing soft here.” He flexed.
“Looks like someone’s been training hard lately,” Jai said.
“Someone needed to. Man, I’ve been sore. The dancing stuff was great for my cardio, but my strength and conditioning trainer has had me working so hard.”
As the other guys shared some of their preseason training routines and targets, his mind flicked back to Ryan’s earlier comment. Bailey was excited to see him play. She fit into his world so well, her bright and sunny personality the perfect balance to his bouts of focused intensity. Some of his teammates had noticed, with the goalie, Nate Campbell, commenting to Bailey at dinner last night how Luc was smiling a lot more these days. Which was true. He was. Even if he was still wrestling with how to talk to her about the business side of her dance studio.
Truth be told, he figured Poppy should’ve said something ages ago, but he understood how the lines of friendship made things blurry sometimes, which made it hard to speak openly when you didn’t want to hurt someone’s feelings. And this conversation, one that involved her father no less, was ripe for all kinds of miscommunication and offense. He’d been enjoying this time with Bailey too much to willingly burst this cozy bubble. But the fact he wasn’t being himself and open and honest made him itchy inside with nerves. When he’d overheard Bailey and Poppy talk yesterday about expanding the business it only upped the ante in making him extra wary. He needed to say something soon. If only he knew what to say.
“So, what are everyone’s prayer requests?”
The guys shared, and when it was Luc’s turn, he knew he needed help. “Look, I need some wisdom about a conversation I need to have with Bailey.”
“What kind of conversation?” Chris asked, winking.
“Not that kind of conversation. No, it’s about her dad.”
“You need to have a conversation with her dad?” Mike asked.
He nodded. Maybe he should just go direct to the source. That was one way of knowing more about what was going on. And Bailey needn’t know and wouldn’t get upset with him for poking his nose in where it wasn’t exactly wanted.
At the extended silence, he looked up at the screen to see the guys were staring at him. And he suddenly realized just what his words might mean. “Hey, no. Calm that farm down. It’s nothing to do with that. It’s way, way too soon to be talking like that.”
“I’m sure we don’t know what you mean.” Franklin grinned, as the others chirped and teased.
“Just pray I have wisdom. It’s got the potential to get messy, and things are so good with her I don’t want to blow it up.”
That instantly calmed them down, and they nodded.
Then he remembered. “Oh, and they still haven’t found the person who was sending her creepy messages, so please pray he’s found soon, too.”
Franklin nodded. “Thanks for keeping an eye on Poppy.”
“Anytime. She’s family, right?”
“We all are,” Ryan said.
Family. A close family. Like the one with secrets that he wanted to be part of.