Page 47 of Santa Has a Six-Pack
“No?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I loved the dancing itself, but the pressure of it all was… far from ideal. I’d love to create a place where kids—of all different body shapes and sizes—experience the self-expression that dance can be. Where they show up to the studio simply because they love to dance, not because someone is forcing them to be there or because they’re being prepped to perform on the world’s biggest stages. The emphasis would be on fun. And freedom. And fun. Did I already say fun?”
Her whole face is glowing now.
Damn, she’s beautiful.
“You did, but fun is always worth mentioning a second time. So? What’s the next step? How do we get your studio started?”
“We?” She narrows her eyes at me.
“Well, maybe I can be of service. After all, I’m also running a movement studio of sorts.”
“Which you just told me is ratcheting up your business partner’s blood pressure.”
“Oh, he’s fine. We’re fine. The way I see it, just because something is difficult doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. What are we here for if not to be challenged?”
“Hm.” She takes a sip of her wine. “I like that philosophy.”
“I thank you.”
She continues. “I did have a meeting with a building owner a few days ago. The empty space across from yours, actually.”
“What what!?” I do a raise-the-roof gesture like a complete weirdo. “Howdy neighbor!” I lift my palm toward her.
Penny gives me the high five I was looking for, but my excitement deflates when she says, “It didn’t work out.”
“Damn. I’m sorry.”
“All good. Apparently, someone else came in offering way more money per month. Seems like that’s the way things are going lately.”
“Yeah, rents are insane these days. Want me to egg their door once they move in?”
She laughs. “I appreciate the support, but no.”
“Just say the word, lady. I’ll have my huevos on standby.” I soften my voice. “Seriously, though. Keep the faith. I know you’ll find something.”
“Thanks.” She looks around at our demolished Thanksgiving spread. “This was really nice, Matt. Thank you for thinking of me.”
If she only knew how much I think about her.
“It was my pleasure,” I say. “This morning when we took that walk together, I considered asking you to join me at Eugene’s. His family has a real ‘everyone is welcome’ vibe. But you probably would’ve said no, huh?”
She looks down at the table, then back up at me. “I probably would have, yeah.”
“Thought so.”
Her gaze stays locked on mine.
I haven’t a single clue what she’s thinking right now. But a guy could get lost in those beautiful brown eyes. In fact, where the hell am I right now? A drab, windowless back office in a hundred-year-old department store? Hard to believe. Because if you ask me, the vibe in this room tonight was better than any five-star restaurant could ever be.
“Well, I should get a little more work done before I head home. Black Friday is tomorrow. Big day.” She stands and reaches for a paper plate.
“Uh, uh, uh,” I say gently.
“Shouldn’t we clean up?” she asks.
“I should clean up. You should relax. You don’t go to a restaurant and expect to clear your own dishes, do you?
