low.
Before Sonya could nod in agreement, another poke followed, this time harder.
“Too bad he’s a heartbreaker.”
“Ow, girl!” Sonya exclaimed and jerked her body away so fast that she almost fell off the old iron bar stool. Violet’s comment had piqued her interest about the man, but she wasn’t keen on believing gossip. If she ever got the chance, she would ask him outright.
Trent raised a brow at their antics. His gaze laser-focused on her and by the sudden flutter in her heart, there was no question now that he recognized her.
“Ladies, is there a problem?”
“Are you trying to get us into trouble?” Sonya hissed out of the corner of her mouth.
She wanted to slide like a cartoon character straight to the woodshop floor with embarrassment.
“No worries,” Violet whispered back. “I got you, girl. Let me handle this.”
Violet raised her hand. “What happened?”
“The other Mr. Waterson couldn’t make it, so I guess you’re stuck with me.” He looked about the room. “Is that okay?”
While heads were nodding, Sonya inched her hand up as he zipped his backpack open.
“Just for tonight?”
“Just for forever,” he replied with a grin that felt like it was meant only for her. “Or rather the twelve weeks that this class will be in session.”
Forever.
What would that feel like, look like, with a guy as handsome as Trent Waterson? The only thing missing was a tool belt around his waist. When he dug around in his bag, brought one out and hooked it on, it was like an invisible genie had heard her secret wish.
Sporadic applause broke out and Sonya lowered her hand. Smiles widened from the windows to the chalkboard, as if he’d just presented them all with sparkling diamond rings.
He’ll cause mass depression if he ever calls in sick.
Sonya glanced around the workshop filled with scary-looking equipment. Her nose twitched, detecting the scent of sawdust and burnt tires. The whitewashed cinderblock walls were smudged in places with something she hoped was dirt. This wasn’t the ideal place for romantic daydreams.
Her eyes shifted to the front of the room where Trent was taking a sheaf of papers out of his backpack.
“Let me tell you a little bit about myself. My brother and I are joint owners of a local construction and real-estate company, and if you mention his name in my classroom, you’ll earn yourself an instant F.”
He sounded as if he was kidding, but Sonya wanted to be sure, so she raised her hand again.
“Mr. Waterson. This is a non-credit course and there are no grades. It is pass or fail.”
He consulted a folder on the desk and frowned. “You’re right. I was mistaken. You’ll simply fail.”
The class fell silent, and though his tone was still lighthearted, she sensed that the rivalry between Trent and his brother was not.
Sonya felt her nerves start to percolate as Trent moved around the room, handing out the syllabus to every woman.
Her anxiety seemed to increase as he got closer and closer to her. When he reached her worktable, he gave one syllabus to Violet and then turned to Sonya.
“Glad you finally found your way.”
His fingertips brushed against hers, and their slight roughness titillated her senses again. Her insides whirled, still in shock that she was even in the same room with him so soon. Their encounter had been brief, but he’d made a lasting impression on her.
As he walked away, she felt dizzy and clasped one hand on the corner of the wooden table to keep from swooning.
Violet leaned over and whispered, “You know him?”
Sonya heard a note of concern in Violet’s tone, which both intrigued and touched her. Having just moved back into town after many years away, she needed a friend, one that cared, but hopefully wasn’t too nosy.
“No, not really,” she responded in a low tone. “I just saw him around on campus.”
Back at the front of the room, Trent placed his massive hands, palms down, on the table.
“Now that I’ve told you a little bit about me, I want to hear about you. Let’s start at the front,” he said, pointing at her.
Sonya smiled inwardly at the chorus of groans among the women, heartened that she wasn’t the only one who hated to talk in front of a group of strangers. Still, she was tickled that he’d chosen her to go first.
“I’m Sonya Young and I grew up in Bay Point. I just moved back about three months ago. I’m a former dancer with the San Francisco Ballet. I’m in the process of opening up a dance studio at the corner of Seascape Drive, right across from the beach.”
She exhaled slowly and hoped the confidence in her voice didn’t sound as forced as it felt inside.
One of the women exclaimed, “Wonderful. My daughter has always wanted to take ballet. Will you have lessons for children?”
Sonya cleared her throat. Though she loved to dance, the ending of her career was still too new, and too raw. She had plenty of savings, so there was no need to rush the opening of the studio. She was also still questioning her decision and needed time to make sure it was right.
“Children and adults. I’m not sure when I’ll be opening. I’m working on launching my studio website, so there will be more details soon.”
If ever, she told herself.
“Oh, it’s unfortunate that’s it’s not open right now,” the woman responded.
“Is that the storefront that’s had the Grand Opening Soon sign in the window for over a month?” asked another woman in the back of the room.
Sonya shifted in her stool and tossed a glance over her shoulder.
“Yes. I plan on opening soon. There’s a lot to do.” The list of tasks, like design and decorating, marketing and advertising left her with knots in her stomach most days. It was so overwhelming that she continually procrastinated on most, or left others half-completed.
Sonya blamed her own fears as the primary reason for the delay. Making the leap from a career in the arts to opening a small business was scary, but she was determined to be successful.
At least now she’d be in control of her own destiny.
“Hurry up, honey, the butts and thighs of Bay Point need you,” Violet chirped.
The room erupted in laughter and there were nods of agreement among the women.
“Hey, I recognize your
