"No, he's not doing that. He wants to learn the tango. It's part of some sort of business deal."
"That's an unusual deal," Liz commented. "What's this guy's name?"
"His name is Nicholas Hunter, and he's the president and founder of Hunter Resorts International."
Liz's jaw dropped. "I know who Nicholas Hunter is. Several years ago I worked on a promotional campaign for the Grand View Towers."
"Really?" she said in surprise.
"I have to admit I didn't have any meetings with him personally, but his company was wonderful to work with. A year later, his assistant sent me a complimentary stay at his Hawaii hotel, which was awesome." Liz paused, a glitter of excitement in her eyes. "I did happen to see Nick Hunter walk by the conference room one day and the man is gorgeous. He's also extremely wealthy. What on earth is he doing taking dancing lessons at your studio?"
"I told you—it's part of some business deal."
"That must be some deal."
"I didn't get the details. I'm a teacher. He wants lessons. I wasn't going to say no."
"Maybe you could be more than student and teacher," Liz suggested with a sparkling smile. "I'm pretty sure he's single."
"I was thinking the same thing," Julie put in. "Especially now that I've just heard Liz rave about him. She's usually extremely picky and judgmental about men."
Liz rolled her eyes but didn't deny Julie's good-natured comment.
Isabella smiled fondly at her friends. "Ever since you two fell in love and got engaged, you've been trying to set me up with every single guy who crosses my path. You need to stop. I'm not desperate, and I'm not that eager to get involved with anyone. I have a lot of other things to worry about right now. If you want to help me brainstorm something, help me figure out how to buy my aunt's studio without having enough money."
"What about your mom?" Liz suggested. "Could she help?"
She shook her head. "My mother has finally gotten to a place in her life where she doesn't have to work two jobs. I can't ask her for money."
"Maybe Matt and I could invest," Julie offered. "Matt has made a lot of money the past few years."
As the star baseball player for the Cougars, Isabella knew that was true, but she didn't want to borrow from her friends.
"So has Michael," Liz interjected. "And Andrea's husband Alex could probably help as well."
She immediately shook her head. "No, thank you. This is my problem, and I will figure it out. I appreciate the offers, but you both have weddings to plan, and Alex and Andrea have recently set up a huge foundation to support foster kids in the city. I need to figure this out without taking charity from my friends."
"It's not charity," Liz said. "It would be a loan."
"I couldn't take a loan unless I knew for sure I could pay it back, and I honestly don't know that. So, I need to keep thinking."
"Maybe you should keep thinking about whether or not you really want to buy the studio," Julie said. "You're a dancer, Isabella. You're a performer. I know your career was derailed by your injury, but are you sure you don't want to try to get it back?"
"I don't think so," she said slowly. As much as she missed performing, she didn't miss the pain and disappointment and frustration of the last two years. "Enough about me. Let's talk about your wedding, Liz. I can't believe it's only three weeks away. How are all the plans coming along? Do you need my help with anything?"
"It's all good," Liz replied. "Maggie is taking care of everything at the Stratton. And the hotel gardens are already blooming, so it's going to be beautiful. My dad's health has improved, so he'll be able to walk me down the aisle."
"That's wonderful news," she said, seeing the moisture in Liz's eyes. Her father had been battling cancer for a couple of years and it had been touch-and-go the last few months. Apparently things were better now.
"It means a lot to me to have my dad give me away," Liz said, dabbing at her eyes with her napkin. "I can't believe I'm crying. I'm so not a crier."
"Weddings bring it out in all of us," Julie said, blinking some suspicious brightness out of her eyes.
"What's just as important as having my dad with me," Liz continued, "is having my friends by my side. I'm thrilled that everyone is going to make it—even Jessica."
"We made a pact," Isabella said with a smile. "And you were nice enough to schedule your wedding when school gets out so Jessica could make it."
"That is partly why I picked June, so I'm glad it worked out for everyone. I have to admit I had no idea planning a wedding could be so time-consuming and stressful. I've been trying to convince Julie that she and Matt should just get married at the same time so she could avoid all this craziness."
"I would," Julie said with a laugh, "but Matt can't get married in the middle of baseball season. We're shooting for next November or maybe Christmas, but definitely after the World Series, just in case the Cougars go all the way."
"The way Matt is swinging a bat lately, along with the rest of the Cougars, I'd say the World Series is a definite possibility," Liz said. "But it would have been fun to have a double wedding."
"It will be even better for you to have your own day," Julie replied. "But that does mean you're all going to have to buy another bridesmaid's dress when Matt and I tie the knot."
Isabella grinned. With two weddings done and Liz's upcoming nuptials, she already had three bridesmaid's dresses in her closet. Thankfully, her friends had pretty good taste so she'd be able to wear some of them again.
"I can't believe I'm going to be someone's wife," Liz murmured, with a bewildered shake of her head. "I thought I'd be the last of us to get married."
"Michael has had his eye on you since high school," Julie reminded Liz. "And you were just as enamored with him. You both just had to get over being competitors so you could be lovers."
"Very true," Liz agreed.
Isabella shook her head as Liz and Julie exchanged happy glances. "While I love seeing both of you in love, I think I'm going to have to start hanging out with the single women in our group before I start feeling like a complete loser."
"You're not a loser, you're just picky," Julie said.
"And I have a better idea for you," Liz put in. "Give Nicholas Hunter a chance to be more than a student."
"I don't think that's a wise idea. That man has heartbreaker written all over him."
"Since when have you been afraid to throw yourself in the air and hope someone will catch you?" Liz challenged. "You've always been the one willing to jump first, ask questions later."
"Is it because of what happened with Carter?" Julie ventured warily, as if unsure how Isabella would react to the mention of her last boyfriend and their painful breakup.
"I don't know. Maybe. But I'm not really focused on having a relationship right now. I have more important things to worry about than finding a man. I need to figure out how to buy my aunt's studio without borrowing money from my friends."
"Maybe some targeted fundraisers would bring in some cash," Julie suggested, her expertise in non-profit fundraising making her the perfect person to suggest that option
"Or an outreach to dance patrons," Liz put in, using her P.R. skills. "There must be some wealthy people who would like to support a studio of dancers. You have to figure out what to offer them in return."
"Okay, let's keep going," she said, happy to have two smart women to help her figure things out.
* * *
Isabella walked into her studio after lunch with a few new ideas spinning around her head, thanks to Liz and Julie. While most of the fundraisers seemed like long shots, they might bring in enough cash to at least make a down payment. Perhaps her aunt would let her pay the rest over time. Feeling more optimistic, she put her bag into the drawer behind the counter and checked the computer for any urgent emails.
"Isabella, thank God you're here," Ricardo said bursting through the hallway door with panic in his eyes. "Why didn't you answer my texts?"
"My phone was off. I just
got back. What's wrong?"
"A water pipe burst in the ceiling. By the time we got the main valve shut off, both studios were flooded."
"Tell me you're kidding," she breathed.
"I wish I were. This is an old building. Your aunt has been holding things together with duct tape and a prayer the last ten years. You know that."
She knew money had always been tight but not that there were problems with the building itself. "It will be fine. We'll clean up, dry things off." She started to move past him so she could see the damage, but he blocked her way.
"It's not going to be that easy. The hardwood floors are damaged. They'll need to be completely redone. Jenny is in the back office calling all of our students. We'll have to cancel for at least a week or two, possibly more."
"Maybe it won't take that long."
"It's going to take time just to find contractors to do the work. I called Rhea. She'll be here in thirty minutes."
Great. Her aunt would no doubt see this latest disaster as a reason to sell out quickly as possible, although maybe the buyer would have second thoughts if he saw the damage. She hated to think that way, but she was trying to find a silver lining. "Let me take a look."
She walked down the hallway and into the main studio, staring in horror at the dripping walls and deep puddles of water that two of her staff members were trying to mop up with towels. It was worse than she'd expected.
"It's not just the floors we have to worry about; it's also the plumbing," Ricardo added. "Obviously, the pipes will have to be replaced. The showers, toilets, and sinks won't be usable until we have water again. It's not going to be an easy fix."
"We'll find a way," she said, feeling a little desperate to believe her own words.
"I don't know, Isabella. Maybe it's time for both of us to move on. Your aunt is already halfway out the door. And your injury is completely healed now. You could go back to dancing. Your career was just taking off when you got hurt."
"It's been too long. I can't go back. That part of my life is over."
"It doesn't have to be."
"I don't want to talk about the past; I need to concentrate on the present. We have insurance. That should pay for something. We'll get bids to repair everything. We'll find a way to make it work." She raised her chin in the air and gave him a determined look. "Don't quit on me, Ricardo. I need you here."
"I have bills to pay, too."
"I'm confident that I can turn things around."
He shrugged. "I won't make any decisions for a week. Longer than that, I can't promise."
"I'll take whatever I can get." She paused, her mind whirring with how to deal with the most immediate problems. While repairs were urgent, they also needed to keep the income flowing in. "Maybe we can move some of our private lessons to the homes of our students."
"Good idea. You don't have any privates until next week, do you?"
"Actually, I have one tonight—Nicholas Hunter."
"Nicholas Hunter, right," Ricardo muttered. "He lives in a mansion in Pacific Heights."
"How do you know that?"
"I looked him up last night. I was curious about him. He has a big portfolio."
"I'm not interested in his portfolio. He's just a student."
"A student with a lot of money. Maybe he'd like to make a donation to help with the repairs."
"He's taken one class. I can't ask him for money."
"Well, you're going to have to ask someone for money."
"I'd prefer that be a bank or the insurance company."
"You could mention our problems to Mr. Hunter. He might have some ideas. His father Thomas Hunter runs a venture capital firm."
"You looked up his father, too?"
"He was mentioned in the same article."
"Well, I doubt a venture capitalist would have any interest in a dance studio."
"Probably not," Ricardo agreed. "But we're desperate, and they can only say no. Just think about it."
"I'm going to think about everything, but let's take it one step at a time. Once we know what the insurance company will pay for, we'll have a better idea what kind of cash we're going to need."
"What about our classes? Are we just going to cancel?"
"We'll find another site. Maybe we can share space with another studio. Call Impulse Dance; they might be willing to share."
"All right."
"I'll make some calls tomorrow, too. It's going to work out, Ricardo. I'm not going to lose the studio."
"Well, if anyone can make a miracle happen, it's probably you."
Chapter Four
"She's late." Nicholas paced restlessly around the living room while Martin sat on the couch sipping a glass of wine and looking through the contracts they'd just finished signing.
"She'll be here," Martin said. "You should be happy that you didn't have to go down to the studio."
He would have actually preferred to continue his dance lessons at the studio, but that wasn't going to happen. Some plumbing crisis had apparently shut down the school, and Isabella had told him they could do it at his house or wait a few days. Since he didn't have a few days to wait, he had agreed to have her come to his house. Now, he wished he'd come up with another plan.
It wasn't that he didn't have plenty of room for a tango lesson in his two-story, five-bedroom, four-bath house, and his home was certainly private, but letting Isabella into his personal space made him uneasy. He'd already spent way too much time thinking about their conversation the night before.
She'd shared personal information with him, and he'd found himself liking her a lot. What he hadn't liked was the way she'd looked at him, like she could see into his head. He prided himself on his poker face, on not giving anything away, but she'd gotten to him with her sexy smile and those gorgeous eyes and the lips he couldn't stop thinking about tasting. He needed to keep their dance lessons professional and as short as possible.
"What's with you?" Martin asked, giving him a speculative glance. "She's not that late. It's three minutes after seven."
"Late is late. And my problem is you." He knew he sounded completely unreasonable, but he wanted to yell at someone, and Martin was unfortunately the only one around.
"Me?" Martin raised an eyebrow. "What did I do?"
"You let Juan add that amendment to the contract. You should have talked him out of it. What the hell kind of negotiator are you?"
"A damned good one, but I had no choice. It was the tango or nothing, and I didn't think you wanted nothing." Martin paused. "And if you want to blame someone, look in the mirror. You brought this on yourself by not opening up to Juan. He doesn't feel like he knows who you are."
"Well, he's not going to find out who I am by watching me dance the tango. I suck at it."
"You'll get better. I've never seen you fail to achieve a goal once you set your mind to it. You need to stop fighting the fact that you have to do this and just do it."
He frowned at Martin's good advice. "Easy for you to say. You're not going to have to take the stage."
"What are you going to do about a partner, Nick?"
"I don't know yet. Right now I'm just concentrating on my part."
"Juan did say he could provide you with a partner, so you don't have to take someone with you, but it might make you feel more comfortable to dance with someone you know."
"I doubt anything will make me feel comfortable."
The doorbell rang, and his pulse immediately jumped. He should be happy Isabella had arrived. The sooner they got started, the sooner this would be over, but he felt a strange sense of wariness as he opened the door.
Isabella wore a clingy red dress and high heels that showed off her great legs and beautiful body. Her brown hair was loose and fell around her shoulders in flowing silky waves. The smile in her dark brown eyes sent a rush of desire through his body. This was just a dance lesson he reminded himself. Nothing to get excited about.
"Sorry I'm late," she said. "I hit some unexpected constructio
n a few blocks from here."
"They're fixing a sinkhole," he replied.
"Apparently, I share plumbing problems with the city," she said lightly. "May I come in?"
"Of course," he said, stepping aside.
As she entered the house, she paused in the marble-floored foyer, an expression of awe filling her eyes. Her gaze swept the room, obviously taking note of the sweeping staircase, the crystal chandelier and the arched doorways leading into rooms on either side of the entry. "This is beautiful," she murmured. "Have you lived here long?"
"Only a year. I can't take credit for the décor. It was professionally decorated."
"The designer did an excellent job from what I've seen so far."
"I'll give you a tour later. Why don't you come into the living room?" He ushered her through the arched doorway on the left. Martin got up from the sofa and came forward with an interested smile on his face.
"This is Martin Hennessy, my vice president of operations—Isabella Martinez, my extremely talented dance teacher."
"It's nice to meet you," Isabella said, shaking Martin's hand.
"Likewise," Martin returned. "So do you think Nick has any hope of learning the tango in the next week?"
"Absolutely," she replied.
"That sounds confident. Can I get a preview?"
"Absolutely not," Nick cut in.
"Why not? I can give you a critique."
"I have Isabella for that. I don't need anyone else. I'll see you on Monday. Have a good weekend."
"You, too." Martin grabbed his jacket off the arm of the couch. "Good luck, Isabella. I think you're going to need it."
Nick glanced at Isabella as Martin left them alone. "Are you really as confident as you sound?"
"Yes. It's just a dance, Nick. I'm not trying to teach you how to do brain surgery in a week. I think we can come up with a passable tango over the next few days."
Her words brought a reluctant smile to his lips. "Am I your worst student?"
"Not even close. That would be Jeremy Walters."
"What's wrong with Jeremy?"
"He likes to trip whoever is next to him. But then, he's ten."
Before I Do Amazon Page 3
