The silence on the line lingered so long that Wyatt started to fear Griffin had hung up.
When he finally did speak, his melodic voice was low, even menacing. "All right," he said. "But remember what I said. You hurt her, and you and I are going to have a problem."
"Fair enough," Wyatt said, and scribbled down the name and address of a dance studio in Valencia. Then he stood up, grabbed his keys off his desk, and headed for the door.
"Hey, hang on," JP called, trotting across the room toward Wyatt. "You're out of here?"
"I have an errand." He nodded toward Mike. "How's it going?"
"He knows his stuff. He has an idea for the hallway that should keep it secure but also easy to transport. Because when this show's a hit, you'll be traveling all over the country, right?" His grin was wide, and Wyatt laughed.
"That's the plan. And that sounds good. I do need you to make one change to the stage, though. Tell Mike we need a pole."
"A pole," JP repeated. "Can do. But you do remember that we have a stage but no girl, right?"
"I know," Wyatt said, his voice hard and determined as he met his assistant's eyes. "But there will be."
According to Griffin, Kelsey taught a ten o'clock class with toddlers, then had a thirty-minute break before she taught Zumba. Since he'd arrived at ten-forty, he fully intended to use her break to convince her.
He'd found the place easily enough. Dance Heaven, located in the corner space of a strip shopping center. All of the windows were tinted, but it was the cheap kind and had peeled off around the edges. He stood at the end of the sidewalk and peered in through the crack.
The studio was nothing more than one giant room with two doors in the back, one that said office and the other restroom. Mirrors covered all the walls, and on the wall opposite to him, a barre had been permanently attached as well.
Now, a group of little girls stood at the barre, doing some sort of up and down ballet move. They held on with one hand, while the other rose and fell with the bending of their knees.
As far as he could tell, none of the kids were in sync with the others, but Kelsey didn't seem frustrated at all. She walked the line, adjusting one girl's arm, another's leg. Then she walked to the front of the line, put one hand on the barre, and demonstrated how the move should look.
He was in awe.
It was just a boring bend of the knees as far as he could tell. But she had such grace and beauty that the simple act of watching her filled him up.
He could have stayed there forever, but she glanced at the clock, stepped away from the barre, and clapped her hands. Soon the little girls were scurrying to gather their things, then running to get a big hug from Kelsey before racing outside where, Wyatt now saw, a cadre of mothers were waiting in cars for their emerging kids.
He waited a moment to make sure all the girls were out, and was about to go in to talk, when he took one more quick glance through the crack in the window tinting. And then he froze. He just absolutely froze.
She must have turned on some music, because she was moving across the floor in obvious time to something. Or maybe the music was in her head. He didn't know. All he knew was that she moved like liquid magic, as if the world was a perfect place, and always would be if only she could dance.
It was beautiful. Hell, it was transcendent.
And if he'd had the chance, he would have watched her forever.
Unfortunately, forever was cut short when a group of women in workout clothes crossed the parking lot en masse, chattering about cardio rates and calories and low-carb lunches.
Wyatt checked his watch, cursed, and realized he'd spent Kelsey's entire break entranced by her. Damn.
One of the women glanced his way with a frown, then nudged the woman next to her. Soon, they were all staring at him, and not in a friendly way. "Go," one of them whispered to another. "Just go on inside."
What the hell was that about?
He knew the answer quickly enough, because a moment later, Kelsey stepped outside, her brow furrowed as she looked up and down the sidewalk. But when she saw him, her expression cleared, and she laughed. "It's you," she said.
"It's me. Why is that funny?"
"The ladies in my Zumba class thought you were a Peeping Tom. Or possibly a deadbeat dad out to kidnap one of my students and whisk her off to the South Pole or something." She nodded toward the windows. "Lots of drama in there right now."
"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm drama free."
"I doubt that."