"Smart man," Drew murmured. "So now what?"
"Now, Carter's Gym becomes the 17th Street Boxing Gym starting Monday. I retain sole ownership."
"And you retain Rex and Jameson?"
Heath snorted. "Of course. They're part of the package, I guess."
Drew leaned her head back on the seat and smiled at him. "I am so happy for you," she said softly. "Really. You always should have been working for yourself, nobody else."
"That's what I keep hearing," Heath murmured, keeping his eyes on the road. "And my first order of business, especially after last night, is holding that women's self-defense course. And you're gonna help me."
"Uh," Drew began doubtfully. "I don't think you want me –"
"No, listen. Shut up. You are. You kicked that man's ass. Women can learn a lot from you." He saw the look of skepticism on her face. "Look, just at least come to the class. Maybe you can help me with some behind the scenes stuff but you'll just be a pupil too. Okay?"
"I guess," she said.
"One other thing," Heath went on. "I'm going to be flying out to California in a couple weeks. I want to personally hand-deliver Aida the trust fund and college fund money for the kids." He glanced at her. "I want you to come with me. To meet them…Joaquin's family." He cleared his throat and glanced back at the road. "It's the next best thing to Joaquin gettin' to meet you himself."
"I would love that," Drew said quietly, almost shyly. "I know what Joaquin meant to you. I'd—I'd be honored to come with you, Heath."
Heath nodded once, feeling a little bit embarrassed but glad that she'd agreed to come with him. It would be huge—to finally make good on his promise to his fallen brother and see that his kids were taken care of for life. And he could make sure that Aida was comfortable too. He couldn't set her up so that she could quit her job—she'd never allow him to do that, anyway. As long as her and Joaquin's children were taken care of, Heath knew that was all she ever wanted.
He glanced up briefly at the sky. I got you, bro. He cleared his throat.
"New topic," he joked quickly. "Tell me something."
Drew was quiet for moment then shrugged. "Other than the showcase, I don't really have any good news. Not to be a Debbie Downer on the end of your awesome news, but—I saw yesterday that, uh –"
She broke off, and Heath glanced over at her. She was staring out her window and shaking her head slightly. He noticed her throat working as though she were swallowing quickly.
"Saw what?" he asked.
She sighed. "I saw that the studio—you know, the little place I wanted? It—it's been sold."
"Sold?" Heath repeated.
"Yeah. I always walk by there, you know, just to look at it and remember why I'm doing what I'm doing and what I'm working so hard for. So I thought, right before I go to dress rehearsal for my first performance in years, what better motivation than to stop by my little dream place? And I saw the sold sign in the window."
Heath felt a little guilty that her morale had potentially been damaged by seeing the sign, but she'd danced so damn amazingly anyway that he couldn't feel that bad about it.
"Shit," he replied. "Damn. I'm sorry, Drew."
She shrugged and he could tell she didn't really want his sympathy; it would only upset her more. "It happens, right? It wasn't going to stay vacant forever. It's honestly a great spot for like, a little bakery or a coffee shop or something. Which is probably what it will turn into."
"Would have been a great spot for a dance studio, too," Heath said gently. He fell silent as a thought occurred to him; it was risky as it could upset her further, but it was legitimate information he needed to know, so he pressed on. "What would you have called it, your studio?" he asked carefully. "What would it have looked like…what color would you have painted the walls…stuff like that?"
Drew smiled sadly at him. "I wanted to call it 'Inspiration Dance Academy'," she replied. "And I probably would have painted the walls lavender—that's my favorite color. With like…silver and cream accents or something. I wanted it be really comforting to come into—not like a typical dance studio. Lots of warm lights, fresh flowers. I wanted my dancers to love coming to class and learning to be pretty ballerinas in a pretty space." Her smile turned sheepish and she rolled her eyes. "Silly, I know. But…that's what I envisioned. I think they learn better that way."
"Not silly," Heath said slowly as his mind whirled, filing away all of the information she had so helpfully and unknowingly provided. "I don't know shit about dance but that makes sense to me. It's kinda like with Connor's trainer, Frank. He likes his fighters to train to Beethoven, to calm them down and focus on their movements, to relax and be patient. What you said made me think about that." While Heath still wasn't Frank's hugest fan, he always had to admit that Frank's way of training was unique and clearly helpful, as evidenced by Connor's win over him at Ultimate Warrior.