Unexpected Eva (Triple Trouble #3)(58)

I start. “Ewan came to apologize. With Ruby, I might add. He seemed genuinely apologetic, but I don’t know how long his sincerity will last. The only text messages I’ve received from him since then have been about the boys. The police informed me that is all he’s allowed to do via text or call. If he breaks the commitment the police made him sign, then…”

I don’t know why, but deep in my gut I feel like it was all for show with Ruby around. From his sly smile to his over-the-top apology and promise to be a better dad and man for them.

I’m not sure I believe him.

I’ve heard it all before.

It never lasts.

“And if he goes back to his old ways?” Knox asks.

“Then I suppose I have to follow the advice of, thanks to you, my new lawyer, Veronica, and the police. Restraining order or an injunction.” I let out a long sigh. “I’ll feel terrible if it comes to that. All he’ll do is blame me for taking the boys away from him.”

“You’re doing what’s right, Eva. Protecting them. But hopefully it won’t come to that.”

I hope so too.

“Now it’s my turn to ask the questions.” I turn to face him.

His dark eyes look worried as his brows pinch together.

“First of all. This joint venture thingy. Tell me about that.”

On safer topics, his face relaxes. “Okay, hear me out.” He places his mug on his nightstand and faces me, tucking the covers around his waist. I find his athletic chest very distracting.

Focus, Eva. Business head on.

He becomes animated. “The reason I learned how to kizomba was a combination of selfish reasons and also research. The dance retreat I attended in Greece was incredible. But what if we offered an all-inclusive dance retreat here in Castleview Cove? It would be a Dirty Dancing getaway as such. But exclusive, high-end. We would offer it to everyone of all skill levels. Over five days, lessons in ballroom, the tango, kizomba, Latin, salsa—you and your sisters would decide what to include. And we only run it twice a year. We limit the spaces. They stay with us; you and your sisters teach. We charge ten grand a head.”

“Ten grand per person?” I almost spit out my tea.

“Yes,” he says seriously. “They get to stay at a five-star hotel, high-end group dance lessons in the ballroom, breakfast and lunch included as well as evening meals. Access to the spa. We always include airport transfers as standard. But yeah, five-day, four-night stay. You girls receive half per head. What do you say?”

“For each person we receive five grand a head?” I ask, shocked at his proposal. This is not what I was expecting.

“Yes. And we would limit numbers to forty people, twenty couples.”

I quickly do the math in my head. Two hundred thousand pounds.

See, I’m not flaky; I have a good business head on my artsy-fartsy shoulders.

“And you want to run this twice a year?”

“Yes. Maybe three times.” He tilts his hand back and forth in the air, considering.

“Can I speak to Eden and Ella first?”

I don’t even have to ask my sisters. It’ll be a firm yes. It would move us closer to purchasing a new dance studio. Four hundred thousand pounds closer, minus the tax and the cost for our wages to teach, but much closer and quicker. And that would be running it twice a year; three times a year would be a game changer.

“I would expect you to make these decisions together. Also, it’s a big ask. Two to possibly three weeks of every year away from your business. Plus, the preparation.”

It’s not. We have lots of admin staff now and we could hire a few more temporary dance teachers to run the school on those weeks. We know many dance instructors desperate to work with us. They are patiently waiting in the wings.

“Okay. Leave it with me.” Inside I’m squealing like a piggy, and I’m finding it really hard to contain myself.

“You’re smiling. Like a full beam of sunshine smile.”

“I’m happy. Thank you for considering us.”

“I won’t be making the proposal to anyone else. It’s your dance school or no one else and we don’t run a dance retreat.”

“Wow, no pressure,” I scoff.

I can’t wait to call Ella and Eden.

“Did you want to ask me something else?” He removes my cup of tea from my hands, rests it on the nightstand beside his, and then straddles me around his waist.

He loves being close to me. I’m not used to someone wanting to be so touchy-feely with me though. But it’s nice. I like it.

Tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, he strokes his thumb across my cheek. I feel his touch all the way into my soul.

“Eva?”

I clear my throat. “Sorry. You made me lose my train of thought. Um, oh, yeah. Why did Hamish ask you if it was Monday? What happens on a Monday? And why was he so excited to see you?”

He dips his gaze from mine as if embarrassed.

I place my forefinger under his chin, forcing him to make eye contact with me.

Surprising me, he eventually says, “Every Monday morning, before your dad and I head out for a game of golf, Hamish and I race your dad in the quad bikes.” He cringes through his apprehensive jaw. “I know he shouldn’t be on the quad bike. He’s only three, I know, but he loves it. And I’m safe. I wrap my arms around him tight and we only do twenty miles per hour, at most. He thinks we are going superfast. Supersonic, actually, but we aren’t. Every week, Hamish and I win. Every week, your dad lets us win. Every Monday, Hamish and I win hot chocolate.”