Page 12 of The Playboy Billionaire

“Don’t worry, Alice. I’ve seen nothing,” I say, plastering a smile and going to the back.

I knock on the kitchen door. “Hi, Don, Betty.”

I step through and into their tiny yet immaculate kitchen.

“April,” Betty says, rushing forward and pulling me in for a hug. “What can we get you? Don’t you have a class?”

I pause, absorbing Betty’s hug, letting it sink into my weary bones. She pulls back, gripping my upper arms, her brow wrinkling.

“What’s up?” she asks, her tone motherly.

Two years ago, they were the ones who first greeted me when I moved in. Their little cafe and my dance studio have thrived together. My dancers fill their tables before and after class.

I pull the letter out of my back pocket and watch resignation and understanding flash across her face.

“I wondered whether you’d received one too,” she says, pulling me further into the kitchen and manoeuvring me onto a stool.

“Don. Customers,” she says over her shoulder to her husband, who is listening, while wiping down and clearing away from the sandwiches he’s been preparing.

“On it, dear,” he says, gently squeezing my shoulder as he passes.

“I don’t… what…” I stumble, not sure what I’m trying to say.

Betty sighs and leans against the counter.

“I don’t know what to say, either,” she says. “Apparently, the landlord is within his rights, even with a contract, to sell up.”

“But—”

“You need to get a solicitor, April. Find out where you stand.”

My heart sinks. More money, I don’t have. As for a contract...

Betty continues.

“For Don and I, it’s different. It’s time we retired. I know Jerry feels the same way about his garage. He said it was timeto put down his wrench and spend time with his grandkids. This is the push we all need.”

I drop my chin to my chest. I know this. Crime on the rise in the area has just made everything harder. I can’t blame them. I’ve chased off several lowlifes from outside the studio, trying to deal drugs to my kids. I’ve even installed dummy cameras as a deterrent. They don’t need the stress at their age, so I can’t blame them.

Betty grips my shoulders and squeezes. “You’ve invested a lot of time and money into your business. It’s different for you.”

Betty goes over to a drawer and pulls out a business card.

“We’ve used this man in the past. He’s reasonable. He will look at your contract and tell you whether you have a case.”

I take the card and pop it into my jacket pocket.

“Thanks, Betty, I’ll call him,” I say, giving her a hug. “I’d better get back, or Alice and her gang will be rioting.”

Betty smiles and hugs me back.

“Take care. Don and I are here if you need us.”

I hug Don quickly as I leave, my ladies following me out.

Time to dance away my blues.

I stare at the phone,my heart sinking.

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