I swallow nervously. “That sounds lovely,” I manage to say.
Thank God, Henry finally decides to make an appearance at that very moment.
“Ah, hello, Serena. Sorry to keep you waiting.” Henry gestures down the hall to his office, and I follow him, turning over my shoulder at the last second.
“Bye, Beckett. Nice to see you.” There, that wasn’t too awkward, was it?
I push any anxieties over Beckett or Leo out of my brain as soon I sit down opposite Henry and take in his serious expression and steepled fingers.
“Serena, you’ve been my client since you opened the studio,” he begins and my stomach sinks. “I’ve watched you grow your business, and I’ve seen how much effort and energy you put into it and into this community. But —”
Oh God, here it comes.
“The concerns we’ve discussed about your declining enrollment and the increasing costs of running the studio are only getting worse. I ran the numbers for the next quarter, and it’s not looking good, to be frank. We need to figure out an immediate plan of action to bring in more money. Especially since we can’t adjust your mortgage payments anymore.”
“I’m increasing the number of yoga classes, and I recently started advertising for an adult dance class.” My response sounds feeble at best, and we both know it. A couple more classes isn’t going to be enough.
The rising interest rates, coupled with the increase in the cost to simply run the studio, as well as my slowly declining enrollment as kids grow up or stop taking class for any number of reasons, have put me in a really tight financial position. The writing has been on the wall for a while now, but I’ve avoided facing it.
“That’s a start, but as much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news, it won’t be enough. You’ve already deferred two mortgage payments, the bank won’t let you do a third. Without a significant influx of cash flow to cover expenses and make up those payments, the bank may choose to take action.”
“And that means?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“That means you risk foreclosure.” Henry’s words are harsh but stated calmly. I know he doesn’t mean anything by them, it’s simply the truth.
“Now, obviously, we don’t want to get to that point. And I know you’ve worked hard to prevent this from happening; we both have. We made all the right moves and decisions we could, but they haven’t been enough.” He pauses, leaning forward on his forearms and giving me a sympathetic look. “My recommendation at this point is to consider an investor. Someone who can purchase the studio, take over the mortgage, and then rent the space out to you for your use.”
It's the easiest solution, but also the one I really don’t want to consider. “I’ll think about it.”
And I will. Right after I finish thinking about Leo, and my dad, and Violet, and the adult dance classes I’ll be teaching, and the million other things occupying and causing chaos in my mind at the moment.
Later that night, after Summer’s yoga class at the studio, I find myself sitting with my friends on the comfortable chairs of Mila’s bakery. Even though The Nutty Muffin is closed, we all decided cookies were needed, so here we are.
“Did you send off those ads?” Ashley asks as she sits down beside me and hands over a cup of chamomile tea.
I blow on the hot liquid and nod. “Yeah, bring on the grown-ups who want to live out their childhood dream of being a ballerina.”
Ashley snorts at the sarcasm dripping from my words. “It can’t bethatbad teaching adults, can it?”
My pointed stare gets the point across perfectly clear.
“Why are you doing it if you hate it that much?” Mila calls out from the kitchen, where she emerges carrying a tray of goodies. I grab a brownie from the top, hoping someone else will say something to help me avoid the question.
But no one does.
Instead, they all look at me, waiting for my answer.
And weirdly enough, I find I want to tell them. I’m tired of carrying it all by myself. And there’s a difference between telling them all my problem and expecting them to fix it.
“The studio is losing money. If I can’t find more students or teach more classes, I won’t make my mortgage payments and I’ll have to sell.”
Everyone looks shocked. Only Summer had any idea of my situation, and she’s looking at me with nothing but compassion.
“But it’ll be fine. I’ll figure it out, don’t worry.” I hurry to fill the stunned silence. “The adult classes will help.”
“Will that be enough?” Mila asks, getting straight to the point of things. I can’t lie, so I shake my head.
“I’ll think of something.”