“To drive her. My office is right down the street from the studio.”
“I’ll pick her up after school, catch up on paperwork while she dances.”
I blinked. “Three times a week?”
“I can rearrange my afternoons. I’ll pick her up after school, catch up on paperwork while she dances, and bring her home afterward.”
Derek and Scott had been best friends since high school. His daughter, Mia, Audrey’s age, had taken beginner ballet with her.
“You’d really do that?” Audrey asked.
“Sure. Somebody has to get you to Broadway.”
Audrey ran around the table and hugged him.
“That’s theater, Derek.”
“See? This might even make me a more cultured man.”
Audrey ran around the table and hugged him.
When I thanked him, he waved me off.
“You’re family. Stop making it weird.”
For the first few weeks, everything felt easier.
She explained combinations I couldn’t pronounce and even corrected my posture.
