Page 61 of Keep Me Never
I lift a shoulder, then bump mine against his. “It’s basically what I’ve always wanted, give or take a detail or two.”
“Well, there is a lot more where this came from.”
“Sure…if I turn my grandfather down.”
“Ah, but I work for your grandfather and look at me.” He holds his hands out, smiling all boyish-like.
I nod, pulling my lips in. “Yeah, I guess that is technically true.” I don’t say it’s not the same, but I think he would understand what I meant if I did.
“So all you have to do is say the word, and I’ll happily take you. We could eat free meals at places like this a few times a week. Good meals, great performances.”
“You haven’t watched a single routine.”
“No, but I did watch you watch a couple.” He grins and a low chuckle leaves me.
“Well, you missed out. These kids are fantastic.”
He agrees, lifting his glass to take a sip of the wine that was poured with dinner.
I guess I’m not sophisticated enough because warm red wine tastes like a shot of brandy to me—fermented and just…foul.
“I can’t spot talent so easily, being a numbers guy like your grandfather, but I imagine they are good.” Prescott nods, looking to the stage as a young girl takes a seat behind a piano, the lastperformer of the night. “They’re classically trained, and their yearly tuition costs as much as a new car.”
I turn toward him. “So the students who apply for this academy, they’re all advanced?”
“Oh, yeah.” He nods. “Typically, these kids are homeschooled. The arts are their life, some might say job. They spend five to eight hours a day in a studio for years, hoping to get into schools like this one.” He motions to the DeLuca Elite Dance Academy trophy case, set up just off to the side of the stage.
A small frown forms before I can stop it, and his eyes narrow curiously.
“What is it?” he wonders, whirling the liquid in his glass and taking a small sniff.
“I…well, I guess I just assumed they were applying for scholarships so they could beaffordedthe opportunity to be classically trained.”
He stares off to the side a moment, considering and coming to the correct conclusion. “Because we’re raising money for scholarships.”
I nod but quickly rush out, “I’m not saying everyone who is raised that way, where their days work the way you mentioned, can automatically afford a prestigious school, which I assume this is.”
“I understand, and to be fair, I would say most of these families can afford the school’s tuition. The students are, admittedly, children of busy, working parents, retired professionals, or just wealthy families all around. A good 20 percent are probably even clients of ours.” He’s thoughtful for a moment before facing me, a small smile on his face. “I bet you would have some great ideas that could really help expand the reach your grandfather has.”
I withdraw a bit, the idea that Grant’s company could possibly benefit from what I could potentially offer always one that makes me nervous. Mostly because I’m just not so sure that’s true. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” he says, so certain that I can’t help but look his way. His smile is soft as he says, “You bring something new and different to the table that R.L. doesn’t have, Paige.”
I smile at my lap. “I appreciate that, but I’d be lying if I said I agreed.”
Prescott smiles softly before glancing over my shoulder, then down at his shiny watch. “Looks like the place is clearing out.” He tips his head, studying me a moment. “I live alone with no one to talk to but my doorman and he’s a grumpy old man.” I laugh lightly, and Prescott’s lips curve higher. “I’d rather not go home to the quiet if I don’t have to, so if you’re up for it, we could stop for a drink before I take you back to your dorm?”
My rejection is at the tip of my tongue when he adds, “You can ask me for all the dirt on your grandpa, if you’d like.”
“Is there dirt to be discussed?” My brows jump excitedly.
He chuckles, adjusting the buttons on his suit jacket as he stands. “Of course not.”
I shake my head, staring at him a moment.
It would be nice to have someone on the inside of my grandfather’s life. Maybe there are some things he can help me understand to try to make all of this a little easier.
The weight of my failing studio has been twice as heavy lately, and Prescott’s offer only looks all the better for it. And it’s like he said: It’s still early, and one drink won’t hurt.
