times a week.” She shrugged delicately. “She will have to dance on her own the other days. Unless you hire a private tutor, she must attend academic classes, yes?”
A private tutor? So she could dance the rest of the time. This was so not her world. At least Sam’s house had plenty of bedrooms. One could probably be converted to a practice room.
“I’ll pass the message along to her father.”
“My bill.” The teacher handed her another sheet of paper. “This is for a month’s worth of lessons.”
Francesca glanced down at the total at the bottom and nearly fell over. She could easily live on that amount for two months.
“Anything else?” she asked, trying not to look shocked.
Angelina shook her head and smiled. “The rest is up to Kelly. Soon we will see if she has the backbone and the drive to devote herself to the ballet. She has much talent, but at this stage in her career, success will be about hard work. Oui?”
Kelly was only twelve. Francesca didn’t think anyone should be using the word career in reference to anything she id.
“Thank you so much for your time,” Francesca told her.
Angelina nodded gracefully, then returned to her office. Seconds later Kelly emerged from the dressing room.
“That was something,” Francesca said as she approached. “I’m amazed and impressed. I had no idea a class could be so much work.”
“That wasn’t a regular class. Miss Angelina wanted to see what I could do. Is that the application and stuff?” she asked, pointing at the folder.
“Yes. I’ll give it to your father when we get back to the house. Speaking of which, do you want to head home or go out for lunch? It’s only a little after noon.”
Kelly gave a heavy sigh of the long-suffering. “Lunch would be okay.”
Francesca wanted to tell her not to put herself out, but she held back. As she’d told Sam the previous evening, Kelly was acting up because she was scared. Somewhere under that prickly exterior was a charming young woman waiting to blossom. At least, that was the fantasy.
Thirty minutes later they were seated on a patio table in the shade. Kelly had left her hair up, but had pulled on jeans and a T-shirt over her ballet clothes. Francesca studied the menu and mentally winced at the prices. Twelve- fifty for a salad? If this was lunch, how much would dinner cost?
Not her problem, she reminded herself. That morning Sam had handed over cash, along with phone numbers and instructions to have fun. She’d been uncomfortable taking money from him, but as he’d pointed out, she was taking care of his daughter. That was favor enough without making her pay for anything.
She had agreed, mostly because she didn’t have a choice. Places like this weren’t in her budget.
The waitress arrived. They each ordered a Chinese chicken salad. Kelly asked for a cup of soup to start with while Francesca decided to content herself with the incredible French bread they’d brought.
When the two of them were alone, Francesca looked at Sam’s daughter. The girl watched her carefully, as if not sure what was going to happen. Okay, so the situation was a little strange for both of them. Less than forty- eight hours ago neither had known the other existed. As the adult, Francesca knew it was up to her to make Kelly comfortable.
“You’re an incredible dancer,” she began, buttering a piece of bread. “How long have you been studying ballet?”
“Since I was six. I took a lot of different kinds of dance. Tap, modern, and ballet. Then a couple of years later I decided to focus on ballet.”
Francesca tried to remember focusing on anything but having fun with her sisters when she’d been that age. “Does it hurt to go up on your toes?”
“A little. You get used to it. I’ve been dancing on pointe for over a year. It’s no big deal.”
Francesca doubted that. “It seems like a big deal to me, but then, I’ve never been very coordinated. If I tried any of those moves you were doing, I’d probably take someone’s eye out.”
Kelly started to smile, then pressed her lips together. “Did you ever dance?”
Francesca knew she wasn’t talking about flailing about at school dances. “I was a cheerleader in high school. Does that count?”
Kelly rolled her eyes. “Not even close.”
“I didn’t think so. I can’t even say I was really good at it. I was enthusiastic, but I didn’t have a lot of talent. Some of the other girls had studied gymnastics, and they could do things with their bodies that astounded me. Of course, I never saw the point in being a human pretzel.”
Kelly reached for the bread and took a slice. “Are you divorced?”
The change in topic startled Francesca, but at least they were having a normal conversation. “No. I was married before, but my husband died.”
Kelly’s eyes widened. “For real? Was he old?”
“No. He was twenty-eight. He was killed in a car accident.”
Kelly stared at her. “I’ve never known anyone who died. Is it really spooky having to go to the funeral?”
“I don’t remember much about it.” Todd’s death had been unexpected, and the days that followed had passed in a blur. “I moved back home for a few weeks, and that made a big difference. My whole family was around me. My sisters especially.”
“You have sisters?” Kelly actually sounded interested.
“Three. Katie is a year older. Brenna is my twin, and Mia is nine years younger than me.”
Kelly leaned forward. “You have a twin?”
She nodded. “We’re fraternal, though, so we don’t look that much alike.”
“That is so cool.”
“My grandparents really wanted my folks to have a boy, but I kind of like that it’s only girls.”
Kelly’s expression turned wistful. “I would have liked a sister, but there was no way Tanya would ever get pregnant again. I was an accident.” She picked up another slice of bread. “She used to say a mistake. She said that nothing was worth feeling sick and being fat. Plus I guess labor is really bad. You didn’t have any kids, huh?”
Too much information, Francesca thought. “Todd and I wanted to wait a couple of years to start our family.”
“And then he was gone. Bummer.” Kelly eyed her. “Are you going to marry my dad?”
“No.”
She started to say they were just friends, but then she remembered Kelly’s definition of the word. While it described her relationship with Sam very well, she was uncomfortable with a twelve-year-old assuming she and Sam were having sex.
“He’s rich,” Kelly informed her. “Tanya always said that was the most important quality a man could have.”
“Not to me.”
Kelly snorted. “Oh, please. You drive an old truck and wear cheap clothes. Why wouldn’t you want someone with plenty of cash?”
Francesca bristled, then reminded herself Kelly was pushing back to get a reaction. “I’m in graduate school. Being poor comes with the territory.”
“That’s like college, right?”
“Yes. I have a bachelor’s degree. That took four years. Now I’m in a program for my master’s and my Ph.D.”
“What about your parents? Why aren’t they paying for stuff?”
“Because I don’t want them to. Going back to college was my decision. I want to pay my way.”
Kelly looked genuinely shocked. “Why?”
“Because it gives me a sense of accomplishment. I want to be independent. This decision is about who I am as a person.”
“You’re stupid,” Kelly muttered as her soup arrived. She picked up her spoon.
“Why do you dance?” Francesca asked, ignoring the “stupid” remark. “It’s a lot of hard work. You sweat, you get sore. No one pays you. You might be able to have a career as a dancer, but what if you don’t? You’ll have put in
