When I Need You (Need You #4)(34)
"For your information, egomaniac, my mood has nothing to do with you and your big rocket and supposed ability to induce screaming orgasms. I'm upset and distracted because the dance camp that I signed Calder up for months ago, the camp he loved so much last year, got canceled today. I have no idea what I'm going to do, or how I'm going to break it to him because it will break his little heart."
I paused for a moment. "See? That wasn't so hard."
Rowan gave me a sheepish smile. "You're a sneaky one, Lund."
I shrugged. "I'm also pushy. So tell me the rest of it."
The edge of authority in my voice didn't cause her to bristle up; she let everything pour out and it broke my heart.
Her worry that every camp would be full or financially out of reach. Her confusion as to why the camp organizers waited until almost the last minute to spring the bad news on the parents. That led her to a rambling stream of consciousness about their organization's finances-not that she'd seen their profit-and-loss statements-but wouldn't they have realized sooner than today that they'd have funding issues? Their responses to her questions had been vague, and the director had indicated there'd be no refunds on the deposit.
I saw her relief after she'd let off steam. I understood her reluctance to share her worries-we had that in common. My brain could only take so much silent ranting before I wound up with a brutal headache.
In one breath Rowan told me she hated that I'd pushed her to talk because she didn't want to be that annoying person who does nothing but complain about everything. In the next breath she thanked me because her usual confidant-Martin-wasn't around.
I said, "That's some shitty day you've had, sunshine."
"What sucks is there's nothing I can do about it, but I can't stop obsessing over it."
I leaned back in the chair. "So this camp . . . Is it strictly for dancers?"
"Two hours out of the six are dedicated to dancing. Then there's theater and art stuff."
"Did they hire different instructors for each activity? Or did the dance instructor wear more than one hat?"
"Each creative area had a separate staff member."
I paused for a moment. "Was there an issue with staffing?"
"Serena-she was the director-didn't give specifics. Part of me thinks there were too many issues to blame the cancellation on just one thing."
"Can you give me a basic breakdown on why the classes were unique and the appeal to you as a parent?"
Rowan looked at me oddly, as if she'd expected me to say "The situation sucks for you, dude" and move on to a topic that interested me. But for whatever reason, she gave me a detailed breakdown of activities, fees, camp goals and the camp's attempt at ethnic and economic diversity.
Those words started the wheels churning in my head. "Where'd they hold the camp?"
She listed the address and I whistled. "What?"
"No wonder. That area is turning into a prime location for reurbanization."
Miss Skeptical frowned at me. "No offense, but how do you know that?"
"I've been dabbling in buying real estate. My brother Walker co-owns a construction business that specializes in restoration. Last year they were looking at investing in a couple of buildings. But some out-of-state conglomerate bought up all that property in a two-block area. They raised the rent across the board."
"Isn't that illegal in rent-control situations?" she asked.
"Not with the right lawyer. Not as long as they're claiming that the extra income is earmarked for major upgrades they have planned. Now, three quarters of those buildings are empty. According to my brother, there's been no renovation. He and his business partner are keeping a close eye on things because they suspect the company will just bulldoze that whole neighborhood. Although nothing in that area is considered historical."
"No wonder it's such a cluster. The facility they rented is right in the middle of that two-block stretch you're talking about." She sighed. "Which means it's not a ‘we spent all the camp profits on booze and blow' type situation."
I laughed. This woman and her random responses cracked me up.
"This is serious stuff, Lund."
"I know. So how long has this group been in business? Are they a nonprofit?"
That startled her. "I'm not sure. Why?"
"Just curious. Not that it matters since they're defunct."
"Exactly. So I'm no better off now than before you bullied me into ripping open my bleeding mother's heart."