Page 14 of Starcrossed Colorado

Just inside, there was a small lobby space with a rectangle of one-way glass looking into a teaching area. Floor mats were stacked along one side of the classroom, along with other neatly arranged equipment.

I braced myself to see Ashford again, but it seemed no one else was here.

Dixie showed me a bathroom, a small kitchen, and the storage closet, which held more supplies. Overall, I was impressed. It was tidy, but far from sterile. I pictured where I might store my instruments and the items I needed for the tot classes. My keyboard would be the most difficult, since it was a full-size digital piano. I’d need to get creative there. It was doable though.

“What do you think?” Dixie asked. “No regrets, I hope?”

“This will work great. Might need a bit of rearranging. But I like it.”

Most importantly, the vibe was right. I could imagine kids here, learning and having fun. Parents connecting. A community. Ashford had already done that work. No wonder he was protective of what he’d built.

“It’s lovely,” I added.

She opened another door. “This is Ashford’s office.” It was a tiny room, filled to the brim with boxes and a paper-strewn desk. A purple stuffed dragon sat in his desk chair. “Looks like Maisie’s been in here.”

“The dragon is appropriate.” I would stay out of the office, lest he breathe fire at me.

Dixie smiled as she shut the door. “I’ve known Ashford since he was a boy. He’s wary of change because he’s dealt with too much of it. But when it comes to what’sgoodfor him, he’s not so great at seeing it.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Knowing what I did now, I could look past his icy reception. So long as he stopped trying to scare me away from running my classes.

There had to be plenty of room here for the two of us. I was willing to share if he was.

I asked Dixie if I could stick around for a while after she left, even though my lease hadn’t technically started yet. I had planning to do.

Stella lay in a sunny spot beneath the front window, while I set down my messenger bag and took out my journal and gel pens. I made a circuit of the first floor again, this time jotting down ideas and sketching out how I envisioned arranging things. I would have to check with Ashford and get his input, of course. But I wanted to have a proposal that he couldn’t refuse.

This man didn’t want to make room for me. So I’d have to make it as painless as possible, while also letting him know he couldn’t scare me off.

But I could still make it fun.

As I made notes in my journal, I found myself humming a melody. I couldn’t place it at first. It took me a moment to realize it was something new. For the first time in months, I’d actually found a glimmer of inspiration.

I sat down crosslegged in the middle of the classroom and tried to capture the notes on paper before they flew away.

But I wasn’t fast enough. The melody evaporated from my head as soon as I tried to write it down.

“Why does this keep happening?” I asked. I heard Stella’s collar jingling, though she stayed where I’d asked her to. Because she was a very good girl.

Why couldn’t my brain be a good girl too? Just cooperate with me on remembering a simple melody?

Sighing, I pulled up some music on my phone instead. I found my favorite playlist of the moment from the artist Ayla Maxwell. She was an absolute beast on the piano, and she added in poppy vocals and inventive lyrics, which had made her a legend even though she’d only been recording a few years. I was in awe of her. Not like I wanted to be an international pop star, but the woman was a powerhouse of creativity.

If just a little of that fairy dust could rub off on me, I would take it. Didn’t matter if I was performing up on a stage or taking a class full of moms and toddlers through a lineup of silly songs. I wanted to give it my very best.

I stood up and tucked my journal under my arm, head bopping as I went into the lobby.

And then I nearly screamed as a tiny person jumped out in front of me.

“Hi. Who are you?”

My hand went to my chest, rubbing it like I needed to get my heart going again.

A girl stood there, around five or six years old, with bright green eyes and a white ribbon tied in her dark hair. This had to be Ashford’s daughter. Which meant her dad probably wasn’t far behind. I paused the music on my phone.

“I’m Emma. I’m going to be teaching music classes here.”

“Wow, really?” Her little nose wrinkled up. “But what about my dad? He does classes here too. He’s the best teacher ever. I take Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.” She said the words slowly, pronouncing them carefully. Like she had been practicing on it a lot.

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