by Jeannie Moon
Jane watched the exchange and something about his reaction to the information about the theater renovation was…off. Interesting. She dismissed the idea before it took hold, but she wondered what was behind his response.
“I’m happy to go with you, Janie.”
Realizing she was beaten, Jane nodded. What was his game, she wondered? “The show is at seven-thirty.”
“Dinner first? Or after?” he asked. Now he wanted to go to dinner too? The man was not making this easy for her. How was she supposed to resist him?
“Um, after!” Tara said. “The directors could always use some extra adults at the diner. Why don’t you come there after the show?”
Who was this child? Jane mused. “Wait. Are you inviting us out with the cast and crew? This is your fourth show, and I’ve always been banned from such activities.”
Tara rolled her eyes. “Mom, stop. It’s my senior year. Why not?”
Danny had dropped his head, trying to hide the laugh, understanding this was going to be a lot more than either of them bargained for. He was being a good sport about it, but for someone who was laying low, this was a pretty public outing. “Dozens of loud teenagers? Sounds like a great time.”
“You don’t have to…” This was getting worse and worse. She didn’t know if she should try to save him from the mayhem, or toss him right in the middle of it.
“Nah. I’m in.”
Tara smiled wide, and Jane felt like she’d been double-teamed. “Fine. I’ll meet you there at…”
“I’ll pick you up. Six-thirty? Seven?”
She didn’t even bother to put up a fight. There was no point. “Six-thirty. It’s going to be crowded.”
“Great.” Popping off the stool, he nodded to Tara. “I’m going to take off.”
“See you tomorrow,” her daughter said brightly. What a turncoat.
This was getting more and more bizarre. He was flirting openly, in front of her daughter. It was like he’d been issued a challenge and Jane was the prize.
She stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the mudroom, watching him as he put on his coat. The dark wool fabric spanned his broad shoulders and back. It was such a simple thing, so unremarkable, but it was so incredibly sexy. He was too damn gorgeous for his own good, or for hers.
“What are you up to, Danny Gallo?” she whispered.
“Me?” he grinned. “Nothing. Third time, Janie. Third time.” With that he kissed her on the cheek, lingering just a little above the corner of her mouth. He winked and let himself out.
Jane was left speechless, once again.
Tara, on the other hand, was kinetic, running to the window with the dog, and dashing back to her. She was darting around like The Flash.
Jane still hadn’t moved. Third time, he’d said. As in third time’s a charm?
“Mom! Oh my God!” Tara grabbed her hand and yanked her back into the kitchen. “He’s totally into you.”
“What? No! Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Janie? He calls you Janie? It’s adorable.”
It was adorable, and it made her insides quiver like a plucked bow. Everything about him was dangerous to her very vulnerable heart. He was charming, smart, and so funny. He was a talented man with a deep emotional well, and even though he hadn’t mentioned it, he was hurting.
Tara was chattering away about the play and her friends, and how cool it was that Dan was going to come to the performance. She reached into the sea green bakery box on the table and pulled out one of the macarons. “These are so good.”
“Nothing from Viti’s shop is ever less than bliss-inducing.”
“Amen to that.” Tara finished the last bite and leaned in, curiosity swirling in her eyes. “You like him.”
Always, she thought. In fact it was probably more than just liking him. She was halfway in love with him already, and that was halfway too far because it was beyond any hope to think there could be more between them. He was leaving, and Jane didn’t think she was equipped to handle what Danny Gallo could do to her tender heart.
*
Tara Fallon was impressive. The thought was on an endless loop in his head the more she talked about the renovation. She’d found him and Jane as soon as they’d walked into the school, and once she walked them to their reserved front-row seats, she took him on the tour she’d promised.
He’d lied about not being back to the school since graduation; he’d actually come in after hours a few weeks ago. Matt Hennings, the theater director, had given him a look at the upgraded facility. Matt grew up next door to Dan’s family and he’d spent more than a few nights babysitting Matt and his little brother. When Mel told him the district was running short on funds to bring the theater program to the next level, Dan knew he had the power to make it happen. It wasn’t for the five million that Tara had quoted, but the amount was in the seven figures, and Dan had no problem sending them the money.
His agent and his business manager thought he was crazy, but why did he have all that money if he couldn’t do some good with it? The arts were important, and they were consistently shortchanged. He had his business manager write the biggest donation check of his life and send it off. Nothing had felt that good in a long time.
Dan had been a jock in school, playing football and lacrosse, but in his heart he had always been a writer. He believed in words, in paintings and photographs, in sculpture, and in film. He knew math and science were important, but the arts spoke to the soul.
Jane got this. She might have been a scientist by training, but her appreciation for what past civilizations left behind was grounded in the arts. The beautiful things humans created told a powerful story, and unearthing those stories had been Jane’s passion.
Like her mother, Tara’s enthusiasm was contagious as she walked him through the tech booth and then the changes made to the stage. This was her domain. As the stage manager, Tara made sure the production ran smoothly. She coordinated the actors, stage crew, costume and prop departments. The modifications to the stage wings made controlling the flow of people and scenery so much easier.
“The drop-down prop table has been a game changer. It was one of those little additions that made a huge impact. Also, the expansion into the classroom next door gave us rooms for quick changes. The actors have privacy and we have space to store costumes.”
“This is amazing, Tara.” Every inch of the stage was well thought out and functional. “I appreciate the tour. I was never a theater guy, but there were more than a few times I brought your mom something to eat when she was here for long days, painting sets.”
“You did that?” Tara’s eyes went dewy at his admission. “That’s so sweet!”
“Eh, that’s what friends do for each other.”
“I guess.” Tara gave him a sly grin and the side-eye. “Sounds like you were a very good friend to her.”
Sure. Until he’d graduated. Then he wasn’t just a lousy friend, he’d hurt her. He wasn’t proud of the way he’d acted and was trying to do better.
“I have to get to work.” She smiled, anticipating their closing night. “Can you find your way back?”
“I can manage. Thank you for the tour. Break a leg.”
He’d barely gotten the words out when she dashed off with a wave. Dan could feel the energy ricocheting around the space. It was electric, even more charged than a locker room before a big game. He envied Tara. She had so much ahead of her, and if she embraced every opportunity, she’d never have to live with regret.
As he made his way into the auditorium, he passed Matt Hennings, who gave him a quick hug and thanked him again. Dan tried to brush off the thanks, but seeing how much the renovation meant to the kids, he was glad he’d made the gift.
It was one of those small things that made a big impact.
The crowd in the auditorium was growing, and he found the sense of community another reason to love Angel Harbor. It felt like the whole town had come out to see the high school production of A Christmas Carol.
Whether the people were there to get in the holiday spirit or support someone they knew, the attendance was something to behold. This was what friends did for each other. They showed up.
He saw Jane leafing through the program, running her hand over the full-page ad for the bookstore. Dan stood for a moment, watching her; he started when she caught him staring. His heart actually skipped a beat.
“How was your tour?” she asked, moving her purse from the seat next to her so he could sit.
“Oh. Ah. Great! They’ve made a lot of changes since you were a theater rat.”
“They have. The kids and the teachers deserve this. So does the town.” Warmth seeped through him as she took his hand in hers. “You did an amazing thing.”
Her words, soft so only he could hear, sent a shockwave through him. Where did that come from? Did someone tell her? Dan had made it clear that the donation was to remain anonymous. He didn’t want accolades or anything named after him; he just wanted the money to go to the kids.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said. That was stupid.
“Stop it.”
Jane nailed him with that all-knowing gaze, and he gave up the ruse. He couldn’t fool her. He never could. “How did you find out?”
She shrugged. “Just a feeling.” Her hand squeezed his. “I can’t wrap my head around it. It’s so incredibly generous.”
“It’s only money, Jane. The results of the investment are so much more important.”
“It was kind.”
“And the least I could do.”
She leaned into him, closing the space so their arms and shoulders touched. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but he could feel her gratitude, her respect, and her affection. Maybe there was even a little bit of forgiveness. It meant more to him than any award, or bestseller list. Her respect was all he craved. He hadn’t led an exemplary life, but with that simple gesture, Dan felt like he’d been given his second chance.
*
The show was so well done. Heartwarming and funny in spots, it had hit every note a holiday play should hit. During the curtain call the cast had the whole audience singing Christmas carols, and the after party at the diner was noisy and fun. The kids had developed such an incredible bond. He patted himself on the back for giving them a new playground where they could shine.
He’d meant what he’d said earlier—it was only money. The time and effort put in by the students and their teachers, and by their parents, was what needed to be celebrated.
The ride back to her house had been quiet, with Jane looking out the window, lost in her thoughts. He’d loved watching her at the diner, joking with the kids, and chatting with other adults. He wished he had her gift, the ability to read people even when they said almost nothing. She could make the most introverted person feel comfortable and welcome. Dan knew Jane was important to the town and all the people in it, but he was especially moved by Tara, whose pride in her mom spoke volumes.
Mother and daughter had shared an affectionate hug right after the curtain came down, and again when they were at the after party. The two of them, to use a cliché, were two sides of the same coin, with one exuding excitement at the future and the other sending out her understanding into the universe. Their vibe encircled the room, and Dan was lucky to be part of it.
“You’ll come to our house for Thanksgiving.” Her words, which were a statement, not a request, broke the thick silence in the car.
“I…uh…okay?”
Stopped at a light, he looked over and found her smiling sweetly. “Tara overheard you telling Matt Hennings your sister is going out of town to her in-laws. She…insists.”
He did tell him that, unaware that Tara had been in earshot. Those Fallon women. Always finding out people’s secrets. He could have declined the invitation and said he was going to spend the time on his own to write, but the idea of being at a family gathering in her comfortable home was far more appealing than heating up a frozen pizza.
“Thank you,” he said. “If you’re sure it’s not an imposition, I’d love to be there.” Just as he said it, the light turned green, and he made the turn onto Bay Avenue, fully aware their evening was close to being over, and wishing he could make it go on forever.
“You’re not going to argue with me?” She chuckled. “Not even a little?”
“Nah. No point. Resistance is futile where you’re concerned.” That was the truth. Dan was such a goner.
“I’m glad you finally understand.”
He understood it long before then. It was probably one of the reasons he didn’t come home, why he didn’t call, why he didn’t make any attempt to see her. Dan knew that Jane was his siren song. He couldn’t defy the pull she had on him. Tonight was proof.
The outside lights turned on when he pulled in to the driveway, illuminating the familiar scene. The home she’d created was imbued with her kindheartedness and goodness.
“There’s the welcoming committee.” Chloe was smiling at the car from the big window, her tail swishing behind her.
Jane leaned over to take a look. “She’s not barking. I guess she’s used to you already.”
If only. He wanted to be part of her life, her family, more than he ever thought possible.
“I had fun. Thanks for putting up with me,” he said, wishing he had come up with something else.
“Putting up with you? Are you kidding?”
“Hey, I can be a pain in the ass.”
“I’m aware.” Jane didn’t wait for him this time, opening her door and climbing out of the car. He did the same and met her as she rounded the hood.
They stood close, and Jane surprised him, stepping into his space, closing any distance between them. Heat surged through him, a reaction to the swirling emotions he felt just being near her. Their hands brushed, fingers lacing together as they stood without a breath of space between them.
He examined her face, still as beautiful as when she was a girl, but now her eyes possessed a wisdom and a calm Dan desperately needed.
“I wish you could see yourself as I see you,” she said. “You’re such a good man. I know you have all these ingrained ideas about who you are, but you need to let those go.”
With a shake of his head, he dropped his forehead to hers. “I should have done better, with everything. Everyone. I—”
He was surprised by the soft pressure of her mouth. A gentle touch that shocked him into awareness.
“Shush,” she said. “Stop. I won’t have you talking badly about my friend.”
“He’s lucky to have you—you know that right?”
“I’m lucky to have him too. I’ve missed him.” Jane’s eyes glittered with unshed tears and Dan lost his whole heart. This time, when she kissed him, everything spun and crashed; the only thing he was aware of was the lush feel of her lips on his. The gentle sips and sweet taste, like vanilla and whipped cream, surrounded him. He reached up and cupped her face in his hands, angling her mouth so he could go a little deeper, get a little closer. There was no way he wanted to stop.
He didn’t know how long they kissed before they were snapped out of the trance by Chloe’s plaintive bark. The awareness of the woman pressed into him, of his response to her, swamped him. The rush of emotions had his brain, his heart, and his soul screaming at him not to be an idiot this time. God knew, he had the potential.
“I think she’s jealous,” she joked.
“I love your dog, but I don’t want to kiss her.”
“Good to know.” She stepped back and he was aware of her absence immediately. He missed the feel of her body, of her mouth. Dan realized he’d been craving that kiss for a very long time.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked, hopeful enthusiasm dancing in her eyes.
“Bright and early.” After tonight, he didn’t know how he would stay away.
Chapter Ten
Ten people. She should be able to seat ten people at the table without overthinking. Yet here she was, turning the task into a major pro
ject. It wasn’t brain surgery.
From the amount of mental drama they were causing her, the cards in her hand could have weighed a thousand pounds. Somehow, adding one new person to the table was a heavier problem than it should have been. How had this particular person become so important to her again, so quickly? Was she channeling her inner seventeen-year-old self? Was she desperate? Or was he hitting an emotional note—was he that elusive soul mate?
She hadn’t seen him for a couple of days. He’d taken the kids into the city for a play yesterday before they headed to their grandparents upstate this morning.
Sunday morning, after their kiss, he showed up at the bookstore right at nine while she was getting ready for the day. She had come in early to get more decorating done and check her inventory for Small Business Saturday, but he knocked on her door bearing egg sandwiches from one of the best gourmet delis around. Their cheese biscuits were to die for, and Jane had no problem taking a break to have breakfast with him.
It should have been awkward considering what had happened the night before, but it wasn’t. If anything, Jane was hyper aware. Danny was such a presence. While youth certainly had its appeal, a strong, mature, somewhat complicated man who knew his mind was all she was interested in.
Their kiss—sweet, almost chaste—set loose a cascade of feelings. Things she remembered so clearly from her youth but didn’t fully appreciate were now beginning to take shape again, and checking off so many boxes.
There was only one thing—his leaving—that left her wondering if she was making a huge mistake letting him get close again.
Jane was on tenterhooks, and as she stood by the table, she thought about all the people who would be with her. Blood relatives or not, the people coming today knew her better than she knew herself. There was a closeness that belied distance and time. Especially time.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Her mother, who had arrived home on Sunday, glided over, like a skater on the ice. Jane felt a little guilty for not telling her what had been going on with Danny, but her concern was twofold. First she liked having something just for herself. Whatever Tara thought she knew, she didn’t really know that much. Hell, Jane wasn’t sure. What would she tell people?