Losing Love (What Will Be Book Series)

by Laura Ashley Gallagher

  The cars come to a slow stop and the green flashing hand allows us to walk to the other side of the street. All the while, he covers me, protecting me from the downpour.

  “Again, thank you.” I glance towards him, stepping away, wanting to get quickly to my car, and more than slightly embarrassed by my appearance.

  “Wait,” he calls out.

  I turn hastily, sure I’ve splashed him with raindrops from my hair. I lean my body back, realizing I almost came too close to the mysterious stranger’s face.

  “Take the umbrella.” He offers me the handle. “I’m parked right here. I don’t need it.”

  As his hand reaches out, I notice the silver cuff links and my eyes wander to his shoulders. Broad, strong, and dressed head to toe in a navy suit.

  “But your suit?” I question, eyeing him for a moment too long. It looks too expensive to be ruined by a storm.

  “Honestly, this thing makes it out of the closet maybe twice a year, and I really am parked close. Please, take this. It will be my good deed for the day.”

  I appreciate he has picked me for a choice of good karma, but I blush under wet cheeks, realizing he probably sees me as more of a charity case. Standing there with wet hair falling around my shoulders, sodden brown paper clinging to my fingertips, and a blouse so drenched it’s probably see-through.

  “Thank you,” I say again, unsure now if I have other words in my vocabulary as I reach over and take the umbrella.

  “You better get going before it gets any worse?”

  As if it could.

  I smile again, hoping he will see how grateful I am, and I turn on my heels, running a few steps, careful not to fall as I don’t have any free hands to catch myself. I stop, turning my head over my shoulder. I want to get the stranger’s name and replace his umbrella, if possible. But he’s already running in the other direction and turning right onto a different street.

  His car wasn’t so close after all.

  Chaper Six

  On Friday afternoon, after the school bell rings, I tidy up the last of the stray objects from the classroom. I straighten books and hang the last of the colourful paintings on the wall. I key the door as I’m leaving, slipping the dangling metal into my handbag.

  “Thank Christ it’s Friday.” Garry comes strolling from his classroom across the hall.

  “Amen,” I concur, rolling my neck to rid myself of tension.

  “Give me a minute, and I’ll walk to the car with you. I’m waiting for someone.”

  “Who are you waiting for?”

  He walks to my side. “A friend of mine. He’s meeting with Brenda. He has the contract for the school renovation over the summer. Actually,” he starts but stops himself, letting out a slow breath as he runs his fingers through his hair.

  I know that look.

  “Spit it out.”

  He flinches away from me. “He’s the guy I wanted to set you up with.”

  My mouth opens wide, and my gasp echoes in the empty halls.

  “Garry Miller, you’re an absolute moron.” I use his full name for extra effect.

  “Relax. He has no idea who you are. We never told him who he was going on the date with.” He raises his hands in surrender.

  “Okay, I’m leaving now. This is so awkward,” I moan, feeling my fingers twitch along the strap of my handbag.

  “Just wait. It’s the bachelor party tonight and I’m running over the times with him. We’ll leave then, and you won’t even have to speak a word.”

  I swallow hard, exhaling dramatically before rolling my eyes.

  “You’re a pain in my ass.”

  “I don’t doubt it. It’s my favourite habit.” He nudges me with his elbow, leaning his head back with laughter. “Anyway, here he comes.”

  As the door opens to the principal’s office, Brenda steps out first, shaking the man’s hand and bidding farewells.

  “Alex,” Garry calls, walking towards the office.

  I lower my eyes to the ground, shuffling my feet forward.

  I’m going to kill Garry if this guy knows who I am. After all, I said no to our date.

  Coming closer, I notice the man’s steel cap boots and muscular legs covered by black cargo pants.

  “Alex, this is Mandy,” I hear Garry say before I lift my gaze higher up the man’s body, eyeing how the khaki t-shirt clings to his muscular chest for a little longer than necessary.

  As my head tilts to look up at him, his chestnut brown hair seems oddly familiar. And then my eyes land on his. Piercing blue and staring right at me with his mouth ajar.

  “Oh,” I let out, involuntarily screeching, pressing my hand over my mouth to stop any more sounds.

  “It’s you,” he says, smirking.

  I nod my head, my mouth gaping. “It’s you,” I repeat his words because I’ve lost my own.

  “You look dryer.” He lets out a light chuckle. “It’s lovely to meet you.” His smile is gentle and warm like before. “Officially,” he adds.

  I almost choke. He looks the same, but different all at once. The face is the same. Not the choice of clothing. No longer is the crisp suit. Instead, he wears work pants covered in dried paint and what I think is plaster.

  “Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Garry’s finger moves between us.

  I open my mouth to say something, but I’m more than a little shocked.

  “Just a great coincidence, Garry.” He dips his chin, his eyes glancing over at me. “I gave Mandy,” he says my name slowly as if asking permission to say it. Somehow, hearing him say it seems too friendly. “I gave Mandy an umbrella in town the other day.”

  Garry is more dumbstruck than I am. “Shit. That is a coincidence.”

  I’m sure Garry’s glowering at me, but I can’t take my eyes away from the man with the intense sapphire eyes.

  “Anyway,” Garry continues, shaking his head. “What time is everything starting tonight?”

  The two men start a brief conversation as I stand there, still unsure of what just happened, running my eyes between them both.

  “It was great to meet you properly, Mandy.” The man reaches out his hand.

  The man?

  Christ, I can’t think of his name.

  Shit.

  His fingers easily wrap around mine, and I shake his hand firmly. “You too…” I search my mind but come up empty. His face is too distracting.

  “Alex,” he finishes for me, still smirking.

  That’s his name.

  How embarrassing.

  The men say their goodbyes, agreeing to see each other later this evening.

  As we make our way outside, I feel Garry glaring at me from the corner of my eye.

  “What?” I clap.

  “That was a crazy coincidence.”

  I nod, unable to find words.

  “And Alex was flirting with you and you were gawking at him like a deer in headlights.”

  “Oh God, Garry. Don’t tell me that.” I cringe, feeling a rush of blood to my face. I throw my hands over my cheeks.

  “You’re out of practice, that’s all.” He wraps a supportive arm around my shoulder.

  “I was never in practice,” I squeal, my shoulders falling. “I don’t flirt. Nick and I were fourteen when we got together. The extent of my flirting was offering to make the microwave popcorn.”

  I see him purse his lips, fighting back laughter.

  “It’s okay. You can try again tonight. He’s coming to my house with Sally’s brother for a beer before we go out.”

  My face falls. I can almost feel it hit the floor.

  “I don’t want to flirt with anyone,” I say as I open the door to my car.

  “You sure?” Garry chuckles. “Because I don’t think I have ever seen you gawk at a man before.”

  “I… I didn’t. I need to go, Garry,” I stutter, embarrassed and slightly hot.

  “See you later.” He winks at me with suspicious eyes.

  I start my car, wondering why the hell
my hands are suddenly trembling.

  Chapter Seven

  I bite nervously down on my lip before knocking on the door to Garry and Sally’s house. I stopped to pick up a bottle of wine on my way, but with my nerves getting the better of me, I thought two bottles would be more appropriate. If I don’t drink them both, Claire will.

  I grip both cold bottles under my arm, brushing down imaginary wrinkles from my blouse. For a reason I am yet to understand, I spent extra time preparing my outfit. Usually, on a girl’s night, the cab driver is lucky to see me in something that doesn’t resemble pajamas. But tonight, I am wearing my red cuffed blouse, black jeans, and boots and have even gone to the effort of freshening my make-up.

  The door flies open, Claire leaning into her hip on the other side, sipping from her wine glass. The smile spreading across her face is playfully evil, and her eyes scrunch into a line.

  “Well, hello Mandy Parker. You look edible.” Claire chuckles, throwing her free arm around my shoulders.

  I close my eyes and sigh.

  Am I that obvious?

  “Hey.” I kiss her cheek. “Thank you. I made the effort for you tonight,” I lie, laughing along, and dying inside.

  “Me? Sure, it was.”

  I glare into Claire’s ocean blue eyes, her long hair swaying almost to her elbows, and her arm falls to her side.

  “Garry told you?” I moan, rolling my eyes.

  “Of course, I told her,” Garry interrupts, leaping down the stairs towards us, and taking the bottles from me.

  “Musketeers don’t keep secrets,” Claire reminds me, slapping my ass as we follow Garry into the kitchen.

  He smiles over a generous glass of wine and hands it to me across the kitchen island. He opens a bottle of beer and sits with us.

  “Where’s Sally?” I query, looking around for any sign of her.

  “She’ll be down soon. She’s in the shower.”

  I look towards Claire, and she’s still eyeing me suspiciously. “How come you are here so early?”

  She shrugs her narrow shoulders, waving her hand. “I didn’t get out of work until almost seven, and I didn’t have the energy to go home and change. It was a tough day. This wine is needed.” She leans over the counter, staring into her liquid.

  “How is work?”

  Claire’s finding it difficult lately. Given our history, and with her social care degree, Claire works with children. Unlike Garry and I, where we are lucky enough to see mostly the good parts, and children turn up to school happy. Claire doesn’t always get to see that in the foster care system. It’s taking its toll and from the limited information she can give her friends, I understand exactly why. Some of Claire’s stories are horrifying, filled with neglect and abuse. She’s become attached to her kids on more than one occasion, and she can’t handle the situations when the children go back to their abusive parents. They claim and for a short time show, they’ve changed, only for the kids to go back into the system within months.

  “It is what it is.” Claire shrugs as Sally comes jogging into the kitchen in her sweatpants, swinging her towel from her wet hair.

  “Ladies, the party has arrived. Babe, get your woman some wine.” She points towards Garry, shimmying her way towards us before wrapping Claire and me in a group hug.

  Sally gives me the once-over with her eyes but doesn’t say anything. She takes the wineglass from Garry and positions herself on the high stool opposite.

  “Mandy,” she begins, “I hear you got acquainted with Alex.” She sniggers into her glass.

  Oh, for the love of God.

  “I met the guy twice,” I remind them, feeling uncomfortable with the line of questioning.

  “Yeah, but we also heard about how you bumped into him. Have you ever heard of fate?”

  I must admit, it was a major coincidence, but we lived in a beach town. It could have happened to anyone, couldn’t it?

  “Alex is a great guy,” Sally goes on. “He’s been friends with my brother since college. He built my parent’s new house.”

  I shake my head slowly, unsure if I should ask for more. I don’t want to seem too eager and put myself in the line of more embarrassing questions.

  Without a chance for a second thought, the doorbell erupts our conversation.

  “Speak of the devil,” Garry says as he gets up to answer the door.

  I put my wineglass back on the counter. My hands begin to tremble, and I feel my skin get clammy. I’m not accustomed to this reaction to the opposite sex. I’m not blind. I can appreciate a gorgeous man when I see one, but the ability to interact with one is a different story.

  And I can sense him. Before I hear the boom of his voice or see his powerful presence standing at the door frame, I know he’s there. A tingle creeps down the back of my neck. Claire glances at me again, winking supportively.

  “Good evening, ladies.” Alex steps into the kitchen, looking fresh in his charcoal slacks and white shirt.

  Claire stands to shake his hand, and I notice how, without an ounce of shame, her eyes wander over his tall stature.

  It isn’t until Claire sits back down and Garry hands Alex a beer that our eyes find each other. He takes a step closer, and the smell of his heavenly cologne fills my senses. I suddenly feel a little lightheaded.

  “Mandy.” He motions closer. I put out my hand, but he doesn’t take it, and a shiver claws at my lower back when his lips press against my cheek. “It’s lovely to see you again.” He winks with a soft smile.

  I stutter for a moment; my tongue tangled in my mouth. “You too.” I let out a breath.

  As if time has suddenly caught up with us both, we look around the kitchen to three pairs of eyes gawking at us.

  “We’ll head out to the back garden,” Garry finally interrupts the silence, leading Alex to the decking to enjoy the last of the evening sun.

  The breath I’ve longed for finally fills my lungs, and I slump back on the stool. I’m not sure what that was, but it made my tummy feel funny and my head is spinning.

  “Christ,” I let out.

  Claire and Sally look at me, mystified.

  “What the hell was that?” Claire’s eyes are wide, and her voice is a harsh whisper.

  “Jesus, Mandy, whatever type of tension that was, you could cut through it with a knife,” Sally bursts in.

  I don’t know what to say, and I can’t lie. I felt it. A spark of some kind, pinching at my skin.

  How cliché.

  “I have goosebumps. It suddenly got awful hot in here.” Claire fans the collar of her shirt.

  “Can we talk about something else? He’s right outside,” I warn, darting my eyes towards the garden.

  After an hour, the men are putting on their coats to leave. Sally stands to walk Garry to the door and say goodbye, and Claire has made her first wine-fuelled trip to the bathroom. Her timing is impeccable.

  My eyes lower to the ground, his charge filling the kitchen, leaving me stuck for words.

  “Mandy?” Alex says, his eyebrow cocked. When I look at him, he grins, and my chest feels like it has flipped. “I hope I see you again soon.”

  I swallow dryly, finding a new interest in my nail polish. But the words leaving my mouth are almost involuntary. “Me too.”

  He smiles in response, nodding slowly.

  “Goodbye, Mandy. Enjoy your night.”

  “You too,” I whisper before he turns to leave.

  When he’s gone, I feel a blush creep across my cheeks, but whenever there is heat, the cold always comes along to kill it. A pain stabs below my chest and I stiffen. I’m selfish and feel an overwhelming sense of betrayal. Somehow, my heart remains attached to a memory from over six years ago.

  I hadn’t noticed Claire coming back and I close my eyes when she pulls me into a hug, not saying anything for a long moment.

  “I was outside and saw whatever was going on there. He likes you.”

  I pull away, wiping dry eyes in fear tears will come. Claire places a fin
ger under my chin, tilting my face up to meet hers.

  “Sweet girl,” she says, “You can’t keep waiting for a ghost.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Congratulations, you two,” I squeal behind a bouquet and a bottle of champagne.

  I pop my head around to see Garry and Sally standing at their front door, radiating pure happiness and love.

  Sally does something resembling a skip and a jump into my arms, almost squashing the fresh flowers. Garry comes to my rescue, taking the flowers from me before kissing my cheek.

  “Thank you,” he mouths, and I wrap my arms around Sally’s shoulders.

  “Oh, Mandy, I think I’m still in shock. I had no idea.” Her eyes bubble pure mischief when she lies.

  She’s known for weeks what was going on. She did everything in her power to get me and Claire to admit to it just weeks before when I went to their house for drinks. The same night Alex kissed my cheek. The same night something came alive in my chest.

  Both me and Claire kept mum on the subject, eyeing each other, wondering how the hell she had figured it out. But in all honesty, Garry is pretty transparent. He once stole a packet of chewing gum from our local shop when we were eight and went back thirty minutes later to admit what he had done; offering back a half-eaten packet of chewing gum and even the one he had in his mouth. He is honest to a fault.

  All the same, I’m sure it doesn’t take from what Sally must be feeling.

  “Tell me everything. Come on.” I nod down the hall towards the kitchen.

  The details of their proposal sounded beautiful, and although Garry bottled doing it at the restaurant and instead chose to do it in the comfort of their hotel room, I can tell none of it bothered Sally.

  As she potters upstairs to gather what she has of wedding plans, Garry waves my empty coffee cup in front of my face.

  “Refill?”

  “No, thanks. I should get going soon. I have homework to correct.”

  “Sally’s parents are throwing us an engagement party this weekend.”

  “Nice.” My eyes lift. We all need a night out. “Where?”