“That would be perfect. Let’s ask.”
Lucie adjusted her hat and entered a waiting room with a long window separating it from the studio. And the studio—oh, so large and bright with barres and mirrors all around.
To her right lay a counter and an office.
A dark-haired woman in her thirties approached the counter. She wore a long-sleeved black leotard and a black wraparound skirt. “Good afternoon. Are you interested in ballroom dance lessons?”
“Good afternoon. I’m Miss Lucille Girard.” Lucie selected a business card from the display—Frances Thiel, owner. “Are you Mrs. Thiel?”
“I am.” She pulled out a big, flat book. “Ballroom? Tap?”
“Are you hiring teachers?”
“Teachers?” Mrs. Thiel expelled a weary sigh. “I can’t afford teachers until I find a new partner.”
“A partner?”
Mrs. Thiel flung her hand dramatically toward the studio. “My partner and I opened in September. Do you know how much money we put into this place? Two floors of studios! We’re nowhere near finished paying the bills. Then last week she quit so she can dance with the USO—and took her money with her.”
“Oh dear. I’m sorry.”
The woman gave Lucie a dismissive wave. “I danced on Broadway, so I’ve got tap and ballroom covered. Unless you can teach ballet and have a head for business and money to invest—sorry, miss.”
Lucie’s mind spun. “What sort of business help do you need?”
“Schedules. I make a mess of this.” She slapped the big book on the counter. “And ads, mailers—I’m no good at that stuff.”
Lucie could do that. “How about bookkeeping?”
“I hire a college girl. I have no head for numbers.”
Mrs. Aubrey squeezed Lucie’s arm. “It’s perfect.”
“It is.” A smile bloomed on Lucie’s lips. “I can do all that.”
“Listen, Miss Girard, is it? Unless you know something about ballet—doesn’t have to be much, but—”
“I danced with the Paris Opéra Ballet for ten years.”
Mrs. Thiel’s jaw flopped open.
“Yes.” Mrs. Aubrey patted the counter. “TheParis Opéra Ballet.”
“In ... Paris? France?” Mrs. Thiel kept blinking at Lucie.
She nodded. “When the Nazis invaded, I quit the ballet to run my friends’ bookstore in Paris. For a year and a half, I ran that store. I learned a lot about business. Thanks to Paul.” Lucie sent his mother a fond smile. “I’ve ordered supplies, I’ve done mailings, and I’ve organized events. I could do schedules.I even know enough about bookkeeping to make sure the college girl does her job.”
Mrs. Thiel still hadn’t closed her mouth. Still stared at Lucie.
“And she has money to invest,” Mrs. Aubrey said.
No, she didn’t.
Mrs. Aubrey gave Lucie a firm look that reminded her of the man she loved. “If Paul were here, he’d give it to you.”
A protest rose in her chest, but she swallowed it. Indeed, he would. “Yes, I have the money.”
“Miss Girard?” Mrs. Thiel closed her mouth and extended her hand. “Or shall I call you partner?”
