Next, he'd called Rex and Jameson, explaining the change in circumstances, which they were already aware of. He asked if they were interested in working solely for him now that Carter was out of the picture, and they both agreed.
"We get a raise, man?" Rex had asked. "I'm tired of working for minimum wage."
"Yes," Heath had sighed. "I'll give you a raise. But no more ESPN at the front desk, dig? I'm giving you real work to do."
Then, he had contracted a company to redo the sign outside the gym. He decided to keep the new name of the gym very simple—The 17th Street Boxing Gym. He didn't want his name associated with it, although he wasn't so naïve to overlook the fact that it would be news soon, if it wasn't already, that he had acquired the gym from Carter. Surprisingly, he had yet to hear from Carter himself. Heath wasn't personally afraid of the man—that was laughable. However, Carter had surprised him with a few well-placed jabs over the past weekend, and he wanted to make sure he was ready and on his toes if he decided to throw a few more.
Heath knocked on the door of the studio. He heard noises from inside and knew that the contractors were there. Someone had placed a large, window-sized piece of plywood in the window behind the "SOLD" sign, blocking the interior from the street. His main contact at the contracting group unlocked the door to let him in, smiling.
"Hey there," he greeted. "You're just in time. We just got here a few moments ago."
Heath nodded as he shook the contractor's proffered hand. "You've got the blueprint ready?"
The man nodded. "I do. It didn't take too long since this isn't a huge space. But what I was thinking was that we could divide this space up and create two studios in here, for two sets of classes. If she decided to hire another teacher or something once she gets going." He tapped the blueprint page he held out to Heath for inspection.
Heath took it and looked over the blueprints carefully. Drew had never mentioned anything about dual studios, but, if she were as successful as Heath knew she would be, it wouldn't hurt to plan for the future. It would be much simpler to create them now as opposed to having to halt classes to refurbish the studio in the future.
He spent the next several hours walking around the space with the man, discussing everything that would go into transforming the space into a proper dance studio. Heath's main concern was flooring; Drew had always been very specific on the type of floors that would be needed in a studio. The contractor assured him he'd worked on dance studios before and knew just what kind of wood was required and the special springs that would be placed underneath.
Finally, Heath felt confident enough that the men had all the information they needed according to his interpretation of Drew's vision and he shook hands all around before he left. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket as soon as he was outside. It was Bunz.
"Hey," he said when he picked up. "What's up?"
"Well, she's really pissed and upset," Bunz said bluntly. "She hasn't heard from you for like, a million days and she said she thinks you're not coming to the showcase performance."
"Of course I am," Heath replied automatically. Then, the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. "Wait. Is today Thursday?"
"It is, friend," Bunz replied. "They say it happens every week around this time."
"Fuck," Heath hissed, swiping a hand over his face. He already felt like a huge piece of shit for being so unavailable for Drew during the week, but now he'd completely lost track of time. He looked at his watch, and saw that it was five-thirty. "What time does it start?"
"Six," Bunz replied.
"Shit!" he exclaimed. He was filthy from the dust and dirt in the studio, and he needed to get home to change and find a place to buy some flowers. "Damn, I'm like, up the street from the Benedum but I have to shower…"
"Well, she doesn't go on right at six," Bunz said. "She said she goes on around seven."
"All right. Fuckin' hell. I gotta move," Heath said as he started jogging down the street. "My family wants to come too, so I gotta let them know."
"I already told Connor," Bunz said. "We're BFFs now."
"Great," Heath said, not even breaking a smile. "Can you look out for them? I gotta hustle. Can you tell Drew—"
"I can't tell Drew anything. Her phone is off," Bunz sighed. "She told me she was turning it off so that she could get into 'performance mode'. She is scared absolutely shitless. She hasn't done this in a few years."
"Dammit," he cursed mournfully. He wouldn't even get to talk to her before the performance. Maybe that wasn't a bad thing—he was fairly sure that if she were as pissed off at him as Bunz said she was, she probably wouldn't even try to hear him out and just hang up on him. And he refused to spoil the surprise he had planned for her. He only hoped that he could coax her into forgiveness.