Hooked #3 (The Hooked Romance Series - Book 3) Read Free Page A

in the evening —which was essential, I
knew.
    “What do you think? Pretty grand, right?” the woman asked.
    I nodded, peering around the corner. “And there’s
something—“
    “An office, over there. And a bathroom. What is it you do?”
    “Dance instructor,” I answered, nodding my head. Of
course; we had hardly been introduced. I had simply followed her on a mad dash
to this beautiful place. I didn’t know anything; I didn’t even know the rent.
“My name is Molly, by the way.”
    “Oh,” the woman murmured, her mouth forming into a
tight OH. “You’re Molly Says Dance, yes?” She grinned. “I’m Carol, by the way.”
    I nodded. “Pleased to meet you. How did you know about my dance studio?”
    “I make it a point to know what’s going on in this
neighborhood. You weren’t competition, no. But a few of my regulars have
daughters who attend your studio. They speak rather highly of you. And your prices.” She peered around the empty room, her eyes
tracing each nook and cranny of the old place. “You’ll probably have to raise
your prices a bit to have a studio here. I don’t know what they charged you at
the old place, and I don’t know how you got away with it for so long.
Here—because so many of your customers are my regulars, and this will cause
them to drink more, eat more, everything more—I’ll give you a good deal.”
    I tapped my foot, tipping my head to the right. “What
kind of deal?”
    Carol stated the number plainly, with a sense of
near-sass. She wasn’t doing this on purpose, no. Rather, she was exerting her
power. She owned the business below; she owned the property. She couldn’t
afford to simply give the place away.
    But even so, I felt my heart dip into my stomach
once more. Granted, this had been the best deal I’d heard since I’d begun
canvasing. And I needed to start somewhere. My head started spinning as I
thought of the intricacies of a loan. Was a loan something people did? Was it
something I could do?
    “I’ll have to take a look at my finances,” I replied,
looking at her brightly, confidently. I could make this work, if I wanted to. I
could. “I’ll let you know very shortly.”
    Carol brought her hand forward to shake mine. Her grip
was so strong, so forceful. “Please let me know as soon as you can. We both
have businesses to run, after all.” Just then her phone began to vibrate,
leaving her to turn away from us and push her hand into her pocket. “Yes. Yes.
Go,” she announced into the phone, telling the other person to begin the spiel,
in this limited timeframe of go-go-go.
    I felt rushed. I turned toward Mel, my beer
half-empty in my hand. I grinned at her, shrugging my shoulders half-heartedly.
I mouthed the words to her as we walked back toward the winding staircase. “We
have a dance studio. We have a dance studio.” I allowed the energy to build in
my stomach; I allowed myself to fuel up with this sense of earnest excitement.
I inhaled, exhaled brightly and then burst into the stunning October world
outside the door, a smell of beer on my breath and a feeling of hope in my
heart.

 
    CHAPTER
THREE
    After we left The Goat, Mel told me she had to leave
to get her baby from the babysitter. I nodded, understanding. “Baby Jack takes
precedence,” I teased her, bringing her close in a hug. I wanted to tell her I
was so sorry for blaming her—if only in my head—for the whole debacle with Drew
and the studio. But I knew it didn’t matter.
    She clapped her hands lightly onto my face, grinning
ear-to-ear. “It’s beautiful, Molly,” she murmured. “You’ll find a way to make
it yours.”
    “Ours,” I corrected her. But she merely shrugged and
turned her body toward the subway. She scurried forward, arching her back like
a gazelle—like the dancer she truly was. I watched as she disappeared onto the
train; I listened to the tracks as it took her far across the city, back to her
beautiful baby.
    I turned to march back to my apartment,