Tempo Of Love. Kianna Alexander

I’m willing to try it. Maybe I’ll take him some cookies the next time I interview him. Thanks, Betty.”

      The girl responded with a shy smile.

      “I’d say be nice to him, but you’re probably already doing that.” Diamond tapped her chin with her index finger. “Be honest with him and let him know you’re not trying to get in his business, you’re just doing your job.”

      Nona nodded. “Good suggestion, Diamond. Anybody else?”

      No one else had anything to say.

      “Well, thank you all for listening, and for your helpful suggestions to my problem. Class is dismissed.”

      As the children got up and gathered their belongings, Nona watched over them. Through the side windows of the one-story building, she could see their parents’ vehicles idling in the parking lot. She got her clipboard from her dance bag, prepared to check off names one by one as the students were picked up. Once she’d seen all her students safely off, Nona took a minute to straighten up her space, then switched off the lights and headed to her car.

      Crossing the parking lot, she enjoyed the crisp breeze that blew over her, giving her momentary respite from the humid night air. Thinking back on the advice of her students, she smiled and wondered what kind of cookies she should bake for Ken.

      Knowing she’d be willing to give him cookies of a much more adult nature, she shook her head and climbed into her car.

      * * *

      Wednesday morning, Ken strode into his office around seven. It was a bit earlier than he usually came in to work, but he wanted to get an early start on his drafting for the Grand Pearl project. He knew Nona would arrive to interview him around nine, and he wanted two hours alone in the office to work. Lynn rarely came in before nine thirty, and the two interns came in the afternoon when they were released from their college classes.

      Instead of flipping the light switch, he walked across his semidark office toward the windows. The windows went from floor to ceiling, making up the entire eastern wall of his office. Once there, he turned the handle to open the vertical blinds. Sunlight flooded the space, and he took in a deep breath. Morning light always seemed to jump-start his artistic inspiration, making mornings his most productive time for the creative side of his business. He reserved afternoons for paperwork, phone calls and the other activities constituting the practical side of his work.

      He faced away from the window, looking around his private office. The walls were painted in a shade of gray so muted it appeared white. His desk was glass, with chrome legs and hardware, and had no drawers. Instead, he stored all his important papers in the two silver filing cabinets occupying the south wall behind the desk. Two bookcases sat near the cabinets, storing various mementos and trinkets. Two chrome chairs with white vinyl seats sat facing the desk. On the rare occasion he had guests in his office, they occupied those chairs.

      In the center of the room was his drafting table. Comprised of chrome and stainless steel with a vinyl-covered drawing surface, the table had a matching leather-topped stool for him to sit on. The drafting table was the focal point of the space, positioned in a way to take advantage of the natural light. On the north side of the room sat a seldom-used white microfiber love seat. In place of artwork on the walls, he’d hung blueprints and sketches of his past projects.