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Vivienne, the real estate agent, is waiting for me when I step out of the elevator. “Elizabeth!” she exclaims in her New York accent. “You look fantastic. You sure you just had a baby?”
“Please, call me Lizzie.” I wince at the soreness in my body as I slowly make my way to her. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure. Thanks for calling.”
“Well, Lizzie, when I saw this place was available, I knew it was exactly what you were looking for.” She slides her arm around mine, allowing me to lean my weight against her as we walk. “Now, it’s not as big as you were hoping, but that just means the price is within your range. But before we get into the specifics, you better have brought me a pic of that little one.”
Chuckling, I unlock my phone and bring up a picture of Isaac. “I’ve taken a million pics.”
They always say new parents get pic-crazy. Guess what? They do.
She takes the phone from me, her bright-red manicured nails tapping the screen as she scrolls through the photos of my son. “Oh. My. Gawd! Look at him! He’s so precious.”
She fusses over the pictures as we walk, and as much as I love sharing photos of my son, I only have a limited time I’m willing to be away from him. I want to see the place quickly. Not only to get back to him, but because I’m so anxious to check out the studio.
We reach the door, and I retrieve my phone so Vivienne can unlock the place. As soon as we step inside, I fall in love—seriously, I’m head over heels, just as I expected.
It’s wonderful.
The front entry is small but has a small closet for coats and enough space to fit a few benches. In the main studio space, it’s wide open with beautiful hardwood floors that need a bit of TLC but are otherwise impressive. Along one wall are the windows I noticed from the outside, which cast the room in beautiful natural light. The opposite wall is painted concrete but could easily be outfitted with mirrors and ballet barres.
“As I said, space-wise it’s not as large as you wanted, but I think it’s a great start.” Vivienne begins the sales pitch as I slowly stroll around the space. “It more than makes up for it in storage. Through that door there’s a hallway with a large closet, small bathroom, and office space…”
Her words fade into the background, and I lose myself in the visuals my mind conjures. I can see myself directing a group of young people eager to learn modern ballet—a beautiful combination of classical ballet and modern dance techniques. Then, when the sun goes down, I teach a modern dance class for working adults who can’t get to me during the day.
When Isaac gets older, I could bring him along, and he could learn too. We could dance together in the space, or I could chase him in between classes as he runs around, his blue eyes wide with enthusiasm…
“How much?” I ask, cutting Vivienne’s speech off in my excitement.
“Okay…”
“You said it’s within my range, no?”
When she tells me the rent cost, I try not to grow discouraged.
It is in my range but definitely on the higher side. On the much higher side. There would be a lot of work that needs to happen before it would even be remotely ready to open. Even as I walk around, I notice small things that add to the list. The lighting is minimal and would need to be updated. The bathroom needs a complete overhaul, and half the shelves in the storage closet are missing or broken. As each repair stacks up, my heart sinks further.
I can’t afford it.
It would take almost all my money for the deposit alone, and then what? I’d have to immediately return to work at the Sinner’s Lounge to not only keep up the rent but also pay for repairs. Waitressing is good money, but in order to keep up with everything, I’d have to go on stage again—which I would rather not do if it could be avoided.
“How long do I have to think it over?” I ask.
“Well, it’s New York real estate, Lizzie. I can’t hold it too long without some kind of commitment.”
“You mean deposit.”
She nods.
I scan the space once more and sigh. It’s perfect. But expensive. “Give me at least a few days to get my stuff together,” I say. “Will that work?”
“For you, Lizzie. I can do that.”
Ileave the studio a few minutes later, dejected. I’ve got no idea what to do or how to go about getting the place. I don’t want to let the opportunity pass me by, but I’d have to rent the studio without having enough money to get it up and running for at least a year. Which means I’d have to work my ass off paying for it and my normal day-to-day expenses.
Mrs. Loughty has already offered to watch Isaac while I work, which will save me money on childcare. But she isn’t the youngest anymore, and as he gets older, I know it will be harder for her to keep up with him.
I need to take a walk to clear my head. It isn’t until I get a few steps from the building that I realize I’m right around the corner from Amelio’s.
Memories rush into my mind. I can’t help but think about the night with Dillan, and though I can’t afford to eat there, I find myself peeking inside. I know, of course, he won’t be there. It’s early, and he’s working at this hour.
