Irresistible You (3 page)

“Things change,” Louise said. “You’d be surprised.”

Taylor shook her head. “The closest J.T.’s ever come to the ballet is signing a check to contribute to the endowment for the company’s annual charity fundraiser. I’m not sure we’re not setting ourselves up for failure by choosing Juliet,” Taylor said.

“Juliet is perfect for him. You chose well.”

“They’re complete opposites.”

“It’s not just an old wives tale that opposites attract. There’s a lot of truth in that old adage. Trust me, they have a lot more in common than you think. It’s been my experience that the sparks ignite more fiery with opposite personalities.”

Taylor nodded her head absently. “Sparks,” she said aloud. Encouraged by the memory, she watched as the truck backed up and maneuvered its way into the warehouse bay. Even though it was late spring, and a crisp snap was in the air, it was a glorious afternoon and the perfect day to start a new venture. Everything was in place. It was now or never.

“Did you say something?” J.T. asked as he came up behind her interrupting her thoughts.

“No,” Taylor said innocently.

“Sorry about that,” J.T. said standing at the window beside her. He glanced out briefly not noticing that it was such a perfectly beautiful day. “That was the west coast office regarding a company we’re interested in.”

“Are we selling or acquiring?” She asked.

“Acquiring,” he said looking down at the expansive complex.

Taylor looked over to J.T. and smiled brightly. “It’s wonderful to finally have you back home.”

J.T. turned and looked at his mother oddly. “I’m here all the time,” he said then returned to his over-sized chair behind the large mahogany desk. He reached over and pressed several buttons on the keyboard then entered a code bringing his four desk top monitors to life.

“A few days here and there and a week or two now and then isn’t exactly being here all the time,” Taylor said.

J.T. nodded absently then turned to open a file in his computer. “Having you here permanently and your father being semi-retired frees up my time to work on other projects I’ve been planning for several years,” she said as she casually turned and followed him back to his desk.

It’s now or never,
she reminded herself as she artfully changed the subject. “Did I mention that I’ve decided to invest in some property?”

She stopped in front of his desk and stuck her finger into the soil of an orchid she’d placed there a week ago in hopes of bringing a little life into the bleak surroundings. The beautiful, perfectly formed petals were still in bloom, but the moss covered plant-mixture was as dry as the Sahara.

“No.” He answered absently still scanning his computer screen.

She went into the office’s private bathroom and filled a glass with water. When she returned to the office, she found her son at his desk and completely engrossed in work. “It’s a wonderful opportunity that just came up for sale a few months ago. The location is perfect. It’s just across the street from the art gallery. It’s an old vacant community center. The building was nearly complete when it was foreclosed on.”

“Sounds great,” J.T. said as he continued to scan through several screens of e-mail messages and notes. His eyes never left the monitor.

“Oh, it is. I already have some wonderful ideas planned for the center. As a matter of fact since I always wanted to open a neighborhood art and dance facility and sponsor major recitals and exhibits, this is the perfect place.”

“Really…” he said.

“Oh yes, I’m hoping that the entire center will be completely self-sufficient. Sets, costumes, studios, dance and art instruction—everything can be handled in-house.”

“Good,” he said, nodding absently.

Taylor knew he wasn’t paying attention, but she continued talking as she poured half the water onto the moss than waited as the dried moss and plant mixture greedily soaked in the water. “We’re planning for it to open in about twelve months or so. We already have a very impressive list of prospective students.” She rearranged the glass marbles and river rocks then added the rest of the water.

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s a lot of work but ultimately it’s going to be a labor of love, a wonderful opportunity and a tremendous investment.” She glanced down at her son, waiting for a response.

“Aha,” he muttered as his fingers began clicking the keys in front of him. She went back into the bathroom to return the glass.

“The basic premise will be to offer an after-school and weekend program to help promote the arts and dance in the community,” she said as she returned to the desk.

“Really.”

“But as with most programs, it will be expensive. The price of setting up the locations with dance studios and room for a large art studio, not to mention teachers and supplies, can add up. The cost to put on a ballet performance can cost anywhere from several hundred thousand dollars or more. Of course we intend to raise money from patrons of the arts, auctions and fundraisers, including the annual Fairy Tale Ball.

Taylor fingered the orchid gently turning the porous ceramic container to showcase the flower to the best effect. “To begin with, we’ll offer a fine and graphic arts program, sculpture, painting and drawing. And for dance, we’ll offer ballet, modern, jazz and of course, to get the kids interested, hip-hop dance. Then, in the following years, we’re going to develop a music and drama program,” she added, knowing that she didn’t have his complete attention.

“Sounds nice,” he said still concentrating on the computer monitor.

“Of course I’ll head the arts program.” Taylor continued as she dusted a speck of nothing from her lapel and sat down. “And I have a wonderful partner who was a dance professional. She’s a choreographer now and she has an amazing classical and traditional dance program already in place.”

“Aha.”

“She’s the perfect partner. Her name is Lena Palmer. She was a prima ballerina for the Alvin Alley dancer company, the American Ballet company and the Capitol Dance company. She’s absolutely brilliant. She already has a dance studio in New York.”

“That sounds great,” he mumbled. The constant clicking picked up speed sounding more like machine gun fire than the modification of computer code.

“I’ve already put an offer on the property.” Taylor watched as J.T.’s eyes were transfixed on the monitors.

“Uh-huh.” The keyboard clicking grew louder and faster.

She smiled. “I got it for the amazingly low cost of a million dollars.” Her smile broadened as finally she got an emotional reaction from him.

J.T. froze. A cloud of air stilled around him as the sudden silence became deafening. He stopped typing, his hands poised in midair just inches from the keyboard. His body was motionless. His eyes were lowered and focused, as if still concentrating on the screen. “You did what?” he asked as if hearing his mother’s voice for the first time since she had unexpectedly showed up at his office and insisted he take her to lunch.

At last, now she had his undivided attention. Taylor smiled coyly and brushed at that same speck of lint on her suit lapel. “Which part dear?”

“The part about the million dollars…. Never mind, just tell me you’re joking,” J.T. said still staring at the screen.

“You know that I never joke about being a patron of the arts.”

J.T. raised his head slowly and for the first time looked into his mother’s soft brown eyes. He knew instantly that she was completely serious. “You put in an offer of a million dollars for a dilapidated community center to open a dance studio?”

“Oh for goodness sakes J.T.,” Taylor said, brushing him off nonchalantly. “It’s no big deal. It’s only money, and heaven knows we have plenty of it. A small philanthropic venture would be good for us all.”

“Mom, thanks to you E-Corp has a very prestigious list of charitable organization to which we regularly and, I might add, very liberally contribute. If you’d like to add a particular organization to the list please feel free. As you are well aware, we review the list regularly. We have always handled our responsibility as a community leader with great generosity and pride.”

“J.T. please,” she chuckled, “you sound like some overhyped press release.”

“What about the art gallery?” he asked.

“It’s doing wonderfully.”

“And your painting?”

“I still paint from time to time, you know that.”

“But what about…”

“Sitting on committees and making recommendations was fine, but now it’s time for me to get involved.”

“Have you discussed this with Dad?” he said changing course.

“Your father has nothing to do with this.”

“Of course he does, he’s the chairman of the board. Any substantial expenditure or donation must be cleared by the board of directors.”

“This is a personal investment. It’s for me, not the company. Evans Corporation has nothing to do with this.”

“Personal?”

“Yes, personal.”

“Mom, personal or not, a million dollars is out of the question.”

“Of course it’s not. It’s an investment for the future.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It is as far as I’m concerned.”

“Okay, what about this venture you want to get into? You don’t know anything about managing this kind of project, or for that matter dance.”

  “I don’t have to know anything about dance. I have a partner for that. We’ve already asked Lena to look over the proposal. She’s as excited as we are.”    

“You need more to start a business than a proposal and an former dancer.”

“Lena wasn’t just a dancer, she was a prima ballerina, there’s a difference.”

“Okay,” he yielded to semantics, “a retired ballerina, whatever, what could she possibly know about an undertaking this size?” he added sarcastically.

“That’s where you come in.”

“I don’t have time to babysit a ballerina.”

“Sure you do.”

Frustrated, J.T. buried his face in the palms of his hands. He took a few moments to calm down then continued more patiently. “Mom, how can you just write a down payment check for that amount of money without consulting me first?”

Taylor smiled then looked at her son sternly, her arched brow rose in added interest. “You weren’t here and since when do I need anyone’s permission to spend money?”

“But a million dollars isn’t just petty cash,” he said exasperatedly, “to open an art and dance studio?”

“We know exactly what we’re doing. We’ve researched it and done numerous feasibility studies.”

“We, do you have more than one partner?” J.T. asked.

“Yes.”

“Who else is involved?” he asked.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he said firmly.

“Louise Gates is going in with me.”

“Mamma Lou?”

“Yes.”

J.T. opened his mouth then closed it instantly. Now it was beginning to make sense. If Louise Gates was involved in this then it had to mean that there was a matchmaking scheme going on somehow. A knowing smile eased across J.T.’s lips.