Chapter 1 – The Task At Hand

Blake Collins shifted nervously from one foot to the other in an attempt to relax his tense body. It was wound up, every muscle ready to spring and he knew it was going to take at least an hour in the studio to bring him down. He hated meetings with the board of governors. Thankfully, they weren't regular occurrences. Unfortunately, however, their infrequency meant that something wasn't right and Blake might have to pay the price for that.

He could hear the slid of a chair across the floor and footsteps coming to usher him inside. He tried to relax his shoulders but to no avail, and the nervousness was obvious on his frame. A short middle aged woman with cropped, dark hair opened the door and smiled at him. "Director Collins," she said warmly. "We're ready for you now."

Blake had taken the job as Director of the Maryland School of the Arts little over a year and a half ago as a favour to an old dancing friend from New York. Director Gordon had gotten pregnant after so many years of trying and as much as she loved the school (it had been her child after all), she had to say goodbye and the opportunity of a lifetime found its way into Blake Collins' life. He was young, much younger than most before him, and inexperienced but he had a smart head on his shoulders and he was a damn good dancer; amongst the students of MSA, he was a legend.

He forgot all those things – smart head, good dancer, and head of a school – in front of the governors.

"Have a seat Blake," Matthew Rotherway said not looking at him. Rotherway was a forty-something dance critic and a little rough in his behaviour towards others but he had a sharp eye and never lied. Blake quite liked him. Margaret Blincher, on the other hand, sat on Matthew's left and he was very afraid of her. She was thin and wiry and resembled a wasp. Her tongue could be like a stinger too. But she had a great reputation amongst the kids at MSA, being one of the older students' mothers, and she understood them too. The woman who had let him in was Susan Wakefield and she reminded him ever so much of his Grandmother. Except his Grandmother never rode a motorcycle.

"Collins," was how Margaret began. "We have a situation and it has now become necessary for us to make it known to you." He knew it. "As you've probably noticed, Jerry isn't here."

He hadn't but now he looked at the empty chair beside Susan, Blake's mind began to wonder. Why wasn't Jerry here? In all his thirty years as governor, Jerry Cosby had never missed a governor's meeting.

"Where is Jerry?" he asked timidly, frowning with curiosity.

"He died."

Blake's eyes widened and he sat back in his chair. Exhaling deeply, he rubbed his cheek. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, heart attack. Crazy! The man never ate anything but salad and salmon," Matthew interjected looking at Margaret.

"The point is, Blake," said Margaret bluntly, for she was always to the point, "is that we have lost a substantial amount of money from his death. He was, as we all are, a great benefactor of the school. He was one of the reasons students can come here for reduced fees, or on scholarships."

"The school isn't pulling in a lot of money, and we are losing it fast," Susan added sadly.

Something clicked in Blake's mind. "Are you…firing me?"

They all laughed simultaneously. "Good heavens, Blake," Matthew mused, "Why would we do a thing like that?"

"No, no, you're far too valuable to the school. An asset," Margaret said, still smiling. Blake felt his shoulders relax slightly.

"No, we just need you to think of a solution."

A solution to the hole in the bucket that was MSA? How to stop them losing money and to possibly gain it? In steady monthly payments preferably.

"We'd need another benefactor, surely," Blake suggested.

They nodded.

"How though?" Blake frowned. "Who?"

There was silence. Matthew pushed his glasses up his nose and shrugged. "We were hoping you could come up with that…"

…smart head, good dancer, and head of the school…

"Well, you could hold a benefits concert, and ask people to donate or become benefactors. But that, well, that feels a little like charity…" he began trying to sound clear.

"We are a charity case now, I'm afraid, dear boy," Matthew sighed. "We are beggars. And they can't be choosers so I'm told."

Had it really come to this? How could he not have known that the school was in this much trouble? He nodded numbly. ""I'll begin straight away. It'll be…the...most important thing in my life."

"We know that Blake," Margaret said shuffling some paper. "You're dedicated. Far more dedicated than any other man I've met."

"And you love MSA as much as we do," Susan added, "which is why you won't let us down."

"You can decide the date and venue and material, just do us proud."

Blake nodded and left the room without another word. The weight of the task facing him was enormous. He began to loosen his tie. It was going to take at least two hours in the studio to relax him now.