Hooked 4 (Hooked #4)
by Claire Adams
CHAPTER ONE
During the next few days, I received several different phone calls from past dance students. They were ready to get back to work again, and they’d heard that I’d already purchased a new studio—above the Goat Pub. How did they figure it out? I knew Wicker Park could be small, but not that small.
Anyway, I was shocked to hear these words from my past students. Did they really miss me so much, the way I missed them? Molly Says Dance had been my entire world; it had been my reason to live. But I hadn’t realized that my love of dance had flowed into the other women in my classes. I’d assumed their mothers, their husbands, their sisters, their whomevers were forcing them into classes, and mine was the cheapest on the block. I assumed that was the end-all, be-all of their devotion to me.
Most notably, the over-fifty women were pleading to get back. They were anxious about gaining weight, they said. They were feeling the aching pain they’d had in the years before they’d begun dance classes. “Just one day a week, for us?” one of the older women, Rhetta, pleaded. I stood in my kitchen in my pajamas, pouring a bowl of cereal on the table. My cat was rubbing against my leg.
“How does Tuesday afternoon sound?” I finally answered, my head spinning. I needed to get the place up and running; I needed to go right away! But above all, I needed to make money. I could lead a few classes a week, I thought, and make enough for rent next month. As long as I didn’t have to call my mother and ask for help, I’d be fine.
“Tuesday’s perfect!” Rhetta replied, excited.
My heart quickened in my chest. I dialed the phone once more, dropping a few small cereal niblets to the ground as I worked quickly. Boomer leaped from the couch and sniffed them with a delicate nose.
“Hey, Mol. What’s going on?” This was Mel on the other line. She was holding her baby, Jackson, and Jackson was making small, cooing noises into the phone. My heart lifted.
“Mel. Are you available at all this week?”
“For what?” she asked.
“Well. I’ve gone ahead with the dance studio—“ I began.
“Oh, yes. Wonderful! So you got the loan? Oh, so this week we’ll be reorganizing, decorating. All that?”
I thought for a moment, biting my lip. How could I tell her about the loan? It was like an angel had come out of nowhere and ripped the pain from my back. It was like I could finally live like a human again. “Actually. I’m going to teach a few classes a week, just to save money for all that we want to change in the studio. We can make it just as good as the last one, I think. We just have some effort to put forth. You know.”
“A class! Already!” Mel spoke. I could hear her adjusting the baby on her hip. “When do you want me?”
“Tuesday evening, if possible. The over-fifties.”
“Ah, yes. The over-fifties.” Mel paused for a moment. I blinked several times, worried she was going to bail on me, going to leave. “You know. None of this would have been possible if it weren’t for your hard work.”
I blushed for a moment. It was quite rare that Mel and I took a step back from goofing off or talking about boys to really appreciate each other. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” I murmured.
We hung up the phone. I busied myself with cleaning my house. I didn’t notice that I whistled while I worked, humming along with the music that bumped from the small speaker on my counter. The air outside brought strong winds through the window, and I had to close the glass quickly. It was nearing Halloween, I realized. It was going to be winter soon. And I was going to make it through another.
I had been thinking about Drew all during that week, of course. He was constantly on my mind. Most notably, I was insane with passion for the night we’d had together in the Jacuzzi. I could almost feel his lips on my nipples, his mouth moving lower and lower on my stomach. I had to shake my head over and over to remove the thoughts from my mind. I knew I needed to get over it, to get over him. It was likely that he’d already found another woman in the city to take out to Iowa, to make love to as the stars glittered above.
I didn’t want to think about it.
CHAPTER TWO
On Tuesday afternoon, I nearly skipped toward the new dance studio, preparing for my over-fifties class. I brought the old stereo equipment; I brought several mats for before and after stretching (which was so important for the older women’s muscles).
The door jangled to the pub as I entered. A few of the regulars were sitting at the bar. I recognized all of them and nodded toward them, smiling with such vivaciousness. Carol, the owner of the Goat Pub, was behind the bar—not her usual place.
“Well, well. If it isn’t our lovely Miss Molly. Molly Says Dance, everyone,” Carol announced, bringing her hand forward to introduce me to everyone else.
They all lifted their great pints toward me and nodded.
“What’s up?” Carol asked me as I sat at the bar, grinning.
“You know? I think I’ll have a vodka tonic, just for the afternoon. I have some jitters. I’m having my first class upstairs today.”
Carol’s eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “Ah. I see. I didn’t realize you were already starting.”
“Me neither. But I’ve had so many offers, it doesn’t make sense not to try.” I grasped the drink in my hands, clanking the ice cubes from side to side. “Tonight’s the over-fifty women.”