Right from the Start (4 page)

“We’ve got some preliminary plans drawn up,” he said. “Nothing
firm, of course, but every possibility sections the building from front to back,
not side by side as you might expect with this much square footage. Your agency
will benefit from the visibility of Main Street since you deal primarily with
the general public. Angel House will have considerably more square footage, but
they’ll take the back portion of the building with the recital hall entrance on
South Wall Street. It’s more appropriate for a school setting. How does that
sound to you?”

“Definitely can’t beat the address.”

That pleased him. She could tell by the way his expression
eased, turning down the intensity a notch. “Come on.”

Motioning toward the door, he led her into the other smaller
studios and administrative offices that made up the remainder of the first
floor. “I want you to see the whole place so you can imagine your agency here. I
understand you need more space for classrooms. Is that right?”

“Eventually,” she said noncommittally. Not only did she intend
to expand service by hiring more instructors, but also to start training
educators from all over the state. Divorcing parent education needed consistency
to be effective.

She’d already laid the groundwork with the state. In fact, that
was one of the main reasons she’d ventured into opening her own agency. Through
the years, she’d garnered a lot of support to fill the need for quality
education.

She hadn’t dared to hope for a location so close to the city
center, an address that lent her credibility in such a big way.

Without Family Foundations, she could never afford such a
high-visibility location.

“Who knew dancers needed so much space, right?” Will commented.
“There are a lot of mirrors.”

“And ballet barres.”

A dimple flashed. “These rooms are perfect classroom size,
don’t you think? The square footage ratio for your students is something like
ninety or a hundred to one, I believe.”

At least one of them had done his research. Kenzie wasn’t sure
how she felt about that. Or by the way the deep-throated sound of his voice made
it difficult to concentrate.

She didn’t mention that she and this building were old friends,
allowed him to tour her through the familiar rooms and do most of the talking,
explaining the merits of relocating, talking about the work that needed to be
done.

“If you require a really big classroom, we could leave this
room as is. It’s already designed for the public with the separate restroom
facilities. All we need to do is get some fixtures in this second bathroom.
Plumbing is already there.”

“Oh, sounds easy enough.” Once upon a time that bathroom could
hold at least ten girls, all laughing and dodging practices. The other room had
been a dressing area where the students could change out of their street
clothes.

“Can you use a classroom this size?” he asked.

The man was getting more direct, probably wanted to gauge her
interest and had realized he was doing most of the talking.

“I could.”

“Good.” He met her gaze with a curious one of his own, and she
wondered if he thought she was being purposely evasive.

She wasn’t. She simply was taken aback. By this unexpected
offer. By Will Russell. By the way she kept getting distracted by the sparkly
color of his eyes and the throaty sound of his voice and his big hands that
seemed to swallow the cup he held.

“Come on. Let’s get a refill,” he finally said. “Don’t know
about you but I could use more caffeine. We’ll go by way of the second floor so
you can see upstairs. Then I can show you where we propose to divide the
building.”

Had she not already known something about this man’s character,
she might have felt reassured and not as if he was trying to sell her. But
Kenzie did know something. From what she’d heard, he was a ruthless charmer used
to getting his way.

And he wanted something from her. He had something at stake
here. She could feel it as surely as she could feel her own unexpected awareness
of him.

“How did you hear about my agency, Will?” she asked as he
allowed her to precede him up the staircase that opened to an area that had once
held racks upon racks of costumes.

“Divine intervention.” He chuckled, a rich sound that echoed in
the confines of the empty room. “A judge with the family court apparently thinks
highly of your work. She sits on a board with another affiliate of Family
Foundations. Your agency came up as a possibility.”

Judge Geraldine Parrish had likely been the one to toss
Kenzie’s name into the hat. Geri wasn’t only a longtime supporter, but also an
equally longtime family friend.

“So are you a possibility, Kenzie? How do you like what you see
so far?”

No more subtle probing. She glanced around the room with two
lovely canopied windows that opened over the alley. Since the shop next door was
only one floor, the room got plenty of light over the pitched roof. Perfect for
a mediation room, she decided, spacious and private enough to fit couples,
attorneys, advocates if they had them.

She answered Will’s question with a question of her own. “Were
those firm numbers on the lease?”

Inclining his head, he reached out to take her cup. “Within the
range. Can’t say whether it’ll be high end or low, but it won’t be any more, or
less. That I can promise. Once we parcel up the building and determine the exact
square footage, I can give you solid numbers. The Main Street Advisory Board and
the Historic Preservation Commission set the scale.”

“I see.” And she did. Crystal clear. Even accepting the smaller
portion of the building at the high end of the rent range, she’d be nearly
doubling the square footage of her current offices in a strip plaza near the
railroad depot for not substantially more than she currently paid.

Kenzie followed Will from the studio downstairs into what had
once been Madame Estelle’s office. There would be an office for Kenzie, one for
her assistant Lou, and a comfortable reception area. An improvement already from
her current location.

“Here’s the end of the line. The proposed end, anyway,” Will
said. “We’ll insulate the walls, make sure everything is solid and soundproof.
No worries there.”

“How do the percentages break down?”

“Roughly seventy-thirty.” He rolled his eyes. “Okay, more like
seventy-two, twenty-eight. If you don’t have enough space, we can always take a
second look. Angel House could negotiate.”

She only nodded. Twenty-eight percent translated into something
like fifteen thousand square feet. The building certainly appeared designed to
be split, with the entrance in front and the recital hall entrance in the rear.
Kenzie remembered Madame Estelle’s conversations about refinishing the recital
hall floor, and knew that hall alone was over seven thousand square feet.

As they continued to the rear of the building and the space
that would eventually belong to Angel House, Will explained the changes that
would take place. He sounded like the host of any of the home improvement
programs she watched on television.

“When you’re not conducting city council business, what’s your
line of work?” she asked.

“I own a construction company. WLR General Contracting and
Development.”

“WLR?”

“William Lord Russell.”

“Lord Russell? A middle name?” The question was out of her
mouth before she thought better of asking.

He pulled a face. “My mother’s maiden name. She thought it was
hysterical. Still does.”

That made Kenzie laugh despite herself. “Oh, I understand.
Trust me. I live with my parents’ attempt to be modern. And all I do is explain
that Kenzie isn’t short for anything.”

The dimple flashed, and Kenzie had to ask herself why she was
sharing personal information with this man when she’d already decided to stick
to the facts.

But Will Russell was charming. There was no getting around
that. She’d have had to be dead not to notice. And this meeting was proving she
definitely wasn’t dead.

A distraction was in order.

Inside the recital hall, she took in the full effect of all
this space, with the tiered seating and well-worn curtains, the overhead
lighting big and bulky, reminiscent of another era.

He couldn’t know that she had years and years of memories
inside this hall. The short dances and cute costumes of the preschool dancers,
many of whom began their dancing careers too shy to perform so older students
buddied up to coax them on stage.

The performances had grown more challenging as students aged
and skill levels progressed. Those shows had served as practices for competition
routines and award ceremonies to celebrate hard work and discipline. By the time
Kenzie had been in college, she’d danced in recitals, choreographed her own
sections, taught beginner classes and emceed many of the dances as Madame
Estelle had grown old and needed help.

This hall had been the one place students could shine and show
off and revel in the applause of an always appreciative audience. No matter what
happened during competitions, the unexpected problems, the heart-breaking
disappointments, the stomach-churning anxiety and the companionable and fun
celebrations, this space had been a safe place for all Madame Estelle’s
dancers.

Here each and every one of them had been a star.

“What’s going to happen to this hall?” Kenzie asked.

“Reallocated into classrooms. Lots of them.”

His admission drove home the reality that Madame Estelle’s
would vanish into history, her legacy and everything this studio had been to so
many people would end forever. In some ways more final than even her death five
years ago.

But Madame Estelle would have never wanted this recital hall to
sit empty, and as Will flipped off the house lights for what felt like the last
time, Kenzie thought of special needs preschoolers who would utilize this space.
Madame Estelle, with her French accent and larger-than-life laughter, would
likely be pleased to know new generations of children would make a home in the
building she’d loved so dearly. Her true legacy lay in the hearts of all those
who had danced here, all who felt welcomed and encouraged and cared for by an
instructor who challenged them to dream big.

The thought made Kenzie smile.

Following Will to the reception area in the front of the
building, she considered the possibility of making this her new home.

“More coffee?” he asked, and when she declined, he poured
himself some. “What do you think so far? Got any questions for me?”

Family Foundations was a dream come true in just about every
way. Positive Partings had begun with a solid network of professionals and her
contract with the state, but a business was a business. Overhead. Licensure.
Staff. Insurance. Supplies. The list went on.

Kenzie had known her strip plaza wouldn’t suit her long-term
goals when she’d originally signed the lease. And she’d quickly outgrown the
place thanks to her network of professionals who, like herself, believed the
adversarial divorce process needed reform. Judges, attorneys, mediators and
psychologists from counties all around Hendersonville kept her calendar
full.

But mediation wasn’t ever going to make her rich. Despite her
crazy-busy schedule, the agency was still new, which hadn’t left free capital to
make a move to any place more substantial. Certainly not to a prime location
such as South Main Street.

“At first glance, this deal couldn’t have been packaged any
more perfectly if someone had tailored it to my needs.” Although now Kenzie
suspected she had a very good idea who that
someone
was. “So perfect, in fact, had the invitation come from any organization other
than the City of Hendersonville, I would have thought it was a scam. But
everything in the proposal is legitimate city business.”

Will arched an eyebrow as if surprised by her frankness.
“Completely legitimate. Cross my heart.”

Kenzie wanted to believe him.

“Tell me your concerns,” he coaxed. “I can address them.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Too good to be true?”

She nodded.

He set the cup on the counter. “Well, maybe at first glance.
But the building’s really old. Renovations will update a lot, but things will
still go wrong. You can count on it. That’s the nature of the beast with any
building that’s been around awhile. The city will cover some of the maintenance,
and that will be detailed in the lease, but it won’t cover everything. You’ll
want to consider carrying more insurance than you probably do now or you’ll be
asking for trouble.”

Fair enough. She could find out what decent insurance cost and
crunch the numbers. “That’s it?”

A beat of silence. “You won’t get much time to debate this
decision. Seventy-two hours, otherwise the project committee will move to the
next candidate on the list.”

It took Kenzie a moment to process
that
. “Wow. Seventy-two hours. That’s not a lot of time.”

“We’ve got to get the renovations underway. Angel House needs
to be relocated before the next school year begins and we’re already pushing our
luck. Can’t have the kids start school in one location then move while they’re
in session.”

That made sense, but seventy-two hours? She would barely get
enough time to research everything she needed to make a rational decision. Not
when she already had a full day of work ahead of her. She wouldn’t even be able
to begin until tonight.

She wondered if she should push for more time. He’d already
said they couldn’t lease to any business, so she had to wonder how long the list
of potential tenants actually was.

Then again, did she really want to risk losing an opportunity
to move into this building? This completely perfect location?

To preserve some of the legacy of the woman who had taught her
to reach for her dreams?