All of that was gone now, swept out of the little studio space before her like the dust on the floor.
The rational part of her mind told her that this wasn't the only studio space in Pittsburgh. It was one of dozens. She could easily find another location; there was no need to give up on anything at the moment. But the emotional part of her brain refused to hear the logic; this space was the first space she'd looked at that had struck her with inspiration for dance again. After her attack, she'd stopped caring about almost everything in her life, dance included. When she and her family had first come to Pittsburgh, and she'd come to the downtown area, her old love of dance had stirred immediately when she'd passed this place. She had halted in her tracks—she remembered it so clearly—and she'd gaped through the window, instantly seeing in her mind polished wooden spring floors, rounded barres spanning the length of the room, floor to ceiling mirrors. And just like that, her passion had sprung back to life and the very next day, she began her search for a job teaching dance. Then she'd started work at her parents' brand new café, and then shortly after added the bartending job to increase her money-making plan to get the studio. That studio, responsible at least in a small way for bringing her back to life, would be hers. She'd been so determined, and she'd worked so hard. She'd been so diligent about saving her money, rarely spending any money outside of what she needed for basic necessities. Every cent she saved brought her that much closer to the required down payment for the studio mortgage.
And now…it was gone.
She remained a moment longer, staring at it blankly, and then silently hefted her bag and turned on her heel, heading on to the Benedum.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Heath was drained. He felt like he'd been up for two days straight. But underneath his exhaustion, he felt like a brand new person.
He felt like someone who finally had his shit together.
As he walked down the street in downtown Pittsburgh that afternoon, his mind spun as he thought of the major way his life had picked up and changed right after his meeting with Maddox Smith a couple days ago. He'd gone straight to the bank to sit down with a financial advisor. He'd visited his attorney and had a notarized letter drafted to Carter Steele and his attorney regarding selling Heath his business. He'd purchased the studio for Drew, paying for it outright. He'd been feeling great about that, when the news broke that Carter Steele had officially been banned for life from MMA tournaments. The story had been featured prominently on ESPN and other sports networks, and was even featured in the sports sections of major news networks, both broadcast and print. Smith had meant what he'd said about blacklisting Steele, truthful though it all was. Unfortunately Drew's name had been mentioned in those stories as well; the stories shared that Carter had had a major role in leaking the details regarding the attack, including the "very small" detail of her identity, shortly before her trial. It was revealed that he had participated in bribery and match-fixing, causing the judges to throw the fight in Clay Cavasso's favor, but shared that Heath was the true winner after a new set of judges had reviewed the footage.
Subsequently, Heath's phone had started ringing off the hook with reporters trying to get his side of the story. He had been mildly amused; they did this shit all the time, and he never gave in. When would they take the hint? Connor and John both encouraged him to speak to them, but Heath didn't feel a need to say anything. Smith had done an admirable job and Heath felt there wasn't much left that needed to be said.
Heath's attorney and Carter's attorney had been locked in a room at Heath's attorney's firm beginning Tuesday afternoon and extending into Wednesday evening. They had a mediator brought in. As Heath had expected, receiving occasional updates via text from his attorney, Carter and his attorney staunchly refused to sell the business. It was Carter's, his attorney argued, created from his dream and blood, sweat and tears. Heath had to roll his eyes at that. Carter was so full of shit. Heath hopped on the phone, called his lawyer, and sternly instructed him to lower his proffered selling price to a price point that was just a hair above "insulting".
"He's done in this business," Heath had said coldly. "No more MMA, no more managing fighters. Now that he's fired me and I took my initial investment back, he won't be able to make the bills or fix things around the place. He's done." Heath's attorney made a note of his new offer, and Heath's phone had remained silent after that.
Meanwhile, he had plenty of things to do while he waited for his attorney to sort things out. Tuesday evening, he had spent hours going through all of his documents he had from the gym as he prepared to take over sole ownership. He was confident that it was going to happen. He pored over his documents late into the night. Wednesday morning, his first order of business after checking in with his lawyer to find that things were still at a stalemate was to contact a contracting business to begin transforming the dance studio downtown. He agreed to meet up with the contractor to begin work on a blueprint and describe what he wanted, per Drew's vision that she had shared with him a few different times. They went to the space, where the realtor also met them, pulling down the "For Sale" sign and replacing it with a "Sold" sign. They walked through the tiny space as Heath described what he wanted, and the contractor noted everything. He felt that the space could be transformed in a reasonable amount of time with few problems. Heath asked if they could do it within a month; he didn't know how long he could trust himself to sit on such a huge surprise and moreover, he wanted Drew to be able to start living her dream as soon as possible. The contractor saw no reason why they couldn't have the space transformed in that time, but it would require a couple of shifts and additional manpower. Heath told him to do whatever it took but he wanted the space ready in a month's time or less. As this conversation was taking place, Connor and Bunz had joined him at the studio. Bunz was smiling in amazement as she looked around. She glanced at Heath and shook her head slightly, grinning.