by Emery Cross
"They're what?"
"I get them every time you touch me." I glanced over my shoulder at him. "You can't be surprised. My crush on you is the worst kept secret in town."
"I figured you'd grown out of it."
"Nope. Unfortunately."
I stretched toward my purse and managed to hook the strap with my finger. I dragged it toward me and dug out my wallet then handed him a business card which had been tucked in the billfold.
"What's this?"
"My girlfriend quit cigarettes because of that hypnotherapist. I'm going to see if she can rewire my brain—I mean thinking. She's pricey, but I figure it's worth putting in some overtime for."
Alcohol worked like a truth serum on me. And I was spilling secrets to the last person I'd ever intended to share them with. "I'm considered highly susceptible to hypnotic suggestion. At least, that's what the hypnotist performing at the dinner theater told me a few years back."
"Baby, as you said the other day, you quit shit all the time. You certainly don't need help with it."
"Gee, thanks for reminding me."
He dragged his hand over his face. "So what are you seeing her for exactly?"
"To help me quit you, of course. Thought that was obvious."
"Quit me?"
"Well, crushing on you. So I can get on with my life."
"You make me sound like a goddamn bad habit you need to break."
"You kind of are," I said with a chuckle.
His brow lowered. "Let's get this done."
I snatched the business card from his hand. "You're really being a grouch."
His jaw muscle was jumping as he took over and started typing in the information.
I tapped the screen.
"My last name. It's Newton."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I never bothered to change it back to my maiden name on my IDs."
"You sure it isn't that asshole you should be trying to forget?"
"Again, he's not an asshole just a little too clingy. And I'm not trying to forget you. I'm just trying to stop seeing you through a starry prism."
Looking aggravated, he returned his attention to the site, and began firing off the enrollment form questions. He was hitting the laptop keys much harder than he needed to.
It was one of those endless applications, and I started to droop. He caught me yawning and shot me a pissed off look. I made a point of sitting up straighter and holding my eyes open wide.
He asked for his credit card and I padded barefooted to the kitchen. I retrieved it from the drawer and returned with it. "Are you sure?" I asked as I handed it to him.
He took the card from me without a word, entered the information, hit the submit button, and then set the laptop on the table.
He headed toward the door without so much as a goodbye.
"Remind me never to wake you up again, Mr. Ford," I called after him.
CHAPTER 5
HARPER
THE HYPNOTHERAPIST's office was not what I expected. The waiting room was painted a bland oatmeal shade, and the furniture was the same pale beige. I'd expected new-agey decor, or at least something not so clinical.
The only other person waiting kept checking his smartphone despite the sign that said all phones should be switched off.
I picked up a magazine and started leafing through it. Nothing on the page penetrated my thoughts. Did I really want to lose this strong attachment to Rowley? I was pretty certain that once this intense feeling was gone, nothing would ever replace it. It just wasn't in me to love deeply. My love for Rowley was the exception that proved the rule.
But it was painful loving someone who would never return that love. My eyes blurred with tears and I set the magazine down. I discreetly swiped away the wetness beneath my eyes.
A young woman exited the therapist's office and the man got to his feet and they walked out together.
A few minutes later, the therapist, a middle-aged woman clad in a black pantsuit and a white blouse, ushered me into the office.
She gestured toward a striped couch. I took a seat and she sat near me in a wing-backed chair.
"So tell me, Harper, what brings you here today?"
"Unrequited love. I've been crazy about the same person forever and I think it holds me back from moving forward in my life. I forced myself to stay away from him for several years. It didn't help."
"What is it about this particular person?"
"First of all he's gorgeous. And he's got this southern accent that's just indescribably sexy."
She made notes on a pad of paper she was holding.
"He's my white knight. My hero." Oh my God, I was positively gushing.
Embarrassed, I dropped my gaze to my hands clasped tightly in my lap. "I haven't had a lot of people I could depend on in my life. He's one of the very few."
"Are you certain you want to lose that support?"
"I won't. He'll always be there for me. I just need to stop being in love with him."
The session was so soothing that when it ended I felt kind of loose-limbed. I'd had a similar sensation after a massage.
Feeling this relaxed had to mean something, right? Surely I'd been in the perfect state to absorb hypnotic suggestions.
The therapist had me write down my email address and promised to send me an audio recording of our session and additional hypnosis tracks to listen to when I was alone. She called them homework and said I should listen to them before falling asleep and upon waking. Repetition was the key.
I followed her suggestions to the letter for two weeks, but I knew it wasn't working so I doubled down. I streamed them while driving, and doing mindless chores. I turned the volume up to hear it over the shower. I brought earphones to the bakery and, ignoring Stuart's scowl, plugged myself in for the majority of my work hours.
ON MY LAST SESSION, I thanked the therapist and pretended she'd helped. On the drive home, I didn't even bother putting on one of the homework tracks. Instead, I switched on a rock station and turned it up loud.
I decided to stop off at the bakery to give my two weeks notice. I wondered if Stuart would miss having me to scowl at. Hopefully, my new boss at the restaurant on the hill would be friendlier. I shrugged inwardly. I could deal with another bad-tempered boss if the tips were as generous as I’d heard.
Tracey, perky as always, went to get Stuart from the back room. Stuart came out looking disheveled and cranky. But when wasn’t he cranky?
“Don’t tell me, you’re quitting?”
He tilted his head at Tracey. “She mentioned you were trying to line up a better job on my time.”
I glanced over at Tracey who avoided my eyes as she pretended to be busy wiping down the counter. Thanks a lot, perky Tracey, I thought.
“I wouldn’t have bothered teaching you to bake if I knew you’d up and quit on me like this.”
“I’m giving two weeks notice.”
He rolled his eyes. “Lucky me.” He used his thumb and forefinger to smooth his mustache. “What do you want, more money?”
I shook my head. “No. I just need to move on.”
“Well, then move on,” he said with a sneer. He banged open the cash register and pulled out some money and counted it out and then thrust it at me. “There’s your two weeks.”
I refused to let his attitude get me down. I went shopping with the cash. I bought the shoes I needed for my new job and then splurged on a pretty little camisole top with lace trim. I drove home with the music blaring.
I pulled into the driveway and turned down the volume. I found the object of my obsession washing his truck. My eyes were pulled magnetically toward him. His shirt was sticking to his broad physique with sweat. I moaned quietly. I wanted him more than ever.
He stopped soaping up the truck with the sponge and glanced in the direction of my car, probably wondering what was taking me so long to get out.
I plucked the store bags off the passenger seat and exited the car. He gave me that look he'd bee
n giving me lately, which made me feel like I was under a microscope.
"You hate me yet, darlin'?"
I shut the door and turned to face him. "I could never hate you. I've just moved you to another compartment in my mind. You are no longer the hunk I want to do naughty things to." The lie was amazingly brazen because all I could think as I stared at him was that he'd just have to snap his fingers and I'd drop to my knees for him, right there on the hot cement.
His body visibly stiffened.
Perhaps I'd gone a little far with the 'naughty things' part of that silly speech. And I couldn't even blame my behavior on too many cocktails.
"So, no more goosebumps then?"
"Nope. Done with that." I realized I was doing that nervous thing with my hair, twirling a strand tightly around my finger. I stopped and dropped my hand to the side.
"Well, that's just great, darlin'." Why did that comment sound like it came through gritted teeth?
"Move your car over here and I'll wash it."
"No point. I'm driving out to the desert tonight. It'll just get dusty."
"What the hell are you doing in the desert?"
"There's a concert and I'm playing with my band."
"You still doing that?"
"You mean drumming? Yep."
"See, there's something else besides me you haven't quit." He threw the sponge, landing it in the bucket sitting about half a truck length away. Sudsy water splashed over the rim. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Sorry, forgot, you're done with me now."
I hadn't imagined the gritted teeth. He seemed so on-edge, not his usual in-control self. Living in such close proximity to him I was starting to realize that he wasn't always a cool customer, that he actually had moods and a damned hot temper.
"Are you driving alone?"
"No, with a bandmate.”
"Is there phone reception where you're going?"
"I'm sure there is. It's not the middle of Death Valley or something. The venue's right outside of a small town," I said. "You need to stop worrying about me."
"You want me to stop worrying? Then let me drive you."
"All right. But no carrying me off the stage if you don't like something."
"You were a baby playing in a grown-up bar."
"Still. You have to be chill."
By the time I'd dolled myself up, I half-expected to find that Rowley had changed his mind. A badly organized desert concert was not his kind of scene.
I knocked on his door and he came out in a fresh t-shirt and jeans, his hair still damp from showering.
He gave my outfit a once over. I was wearing black mesh leggings underneath my shredded black skinny pants, heavy black boots with multiple straps and brass buckles, and a tank shirt with a see-through lace midriff. Add to that my nearly shoulder length silver hoop earrings, the heavy swooping eyeliner, and my hair teased up in the back sixties style. I could see it in the set of his lips, he didn't approve, but he kept his mouth shut.
He loaded my drums into his truck.
"But you just washed it."
He shrugged. He wasn't interested in driving my ten year old car.
He brushed past me and I had to fight my instinct to lean into him and breathe in his scent.
For me he would forever be the man I yearned for, and no amount of therapy would ever erase that. For him, I was the nuisance he felt some strange obligation to protect.
I punched Lili's address into my smartphone and we both sat in silence listening to the digital voice providing directions. My gaze drifted over to him every time I figured he was preoccupied with driving. I feasted on all the elements that made him the most masculine man I'd ever known. The linebacker build with the squared shoulders. His big hands with the wide palms and long fingers, the squared nails, the squared jaw dark with stubble from just a single day off. He was squared to the power of three, I thought with a secret smile.
I couldn't help wondering again what had happened between him and Kat. They'd seemed fated to marry. One of those star football player dates head cheerleader sure things.
Kat had been the queen of mean. Her reputation had even filtered down to the junior high school. All the girls knew to avoid her if they saw her in town or at the mall. She had a tongue that could slash your ego to bits.
And then Rowley came to town. One look at the gorgeous, broad-shouldered Southern transplant and outwardly her personality transformed overnight. It had made me want to gag, watching how sweet she could be around him.
Had Kat's mask slipped? Hiding your true personality would be like being on a strict diet. You'd have to fall off it once in awhile, wouldn't you? Occasionally show at least a glimmer of who you really were, no matter how disciplined a person you might be.
"So what part of your mind did you shove me off to?"
I jolted guiltily as if he could read my thoughts.
I fought the urge to twist a lock of my hair around my finger.
"You don't have to sound so skeptical. The therapy was quite intensive. She even emailed me MP3 tracks tailor-made for my specific issue to play on my own time." I was not about to tell him how obsessively I'd applied myself to my hypnotherapy homework. "Maybe I've explained the whole process inaccurately. Basically, she tried two tactics. One was to redirect my addiction to you to something more suitable. The other tactic was to replace my usual thoughts about you with ones that are far less dramatic and emotional."
That rambling explanation earned me a long hard look as we idled at a stoplight. Even after the arrow turned green and the driver behind us laid on the horn it took him a few moments to stop glaring at me and put his foot on the gas.
Lili was waiting for us out front of her apartment building. She stubbed out her cigarette on the brick wall.
I could smell smoke on her breath as she leaned in the window. She made it obvious she was trying to look around me to get a view of Rowley.
"Where's your amp?" I asked.
"It's busted. Coco's letting me borrow her old one." She lifted her guitar a bit. "Can't put this in the back I've lost the case."
"You can sit up front with it," I said.
"Are you two an item?" she asked the moment I got out of the truck to switch seats.
"No. He's just a friend."
She grinned. "Oh, goodie."
As we drove, Lili gabbed up a storm. I wondered if that's how I sounded, blabbing about my hypnotherapy sessions. I couldn't make out what they were saying over the radio playing. Rowley seemed to be responding in a clipped fashion, but it didn't stop Lili from trying to engage him. She seemed amused or excited by everything he said. Another Rowley convert.
I kept telling myself Lili wasn't his type. But then I had only Kat to go by so I assumed tall, stick-thin, and meticulously groomed brunettes were his type.
Lili was adorable, but she was also a bit of a hippy, with a head full of wild curls and thick, unplucked eyebrows.
Just as it occurred to me that the joke was on me, that I was no more his type than she was, Rowley tilted his rear view mirror so he could see me. I tried to look cool and unflustered by his attention. After all, I'd been cured of him. Ha! My heart was pounding.
Rowley studying me was unnerving. I was relieved when we pulled off the freeway to fuel up. I undid my seatbelt and opened the rear passenger door and scrambled out of the cab. Lili left her precious guitar in the truck and went off to the restroom.
"Want a drink?" I asked Rowley as he worked the pump. "All that talking must have made you thirsty."
He shook his head and smiled one of his crooked smiles. "That bother you?"
"Why would it? I'm so over you."
"Okay, baby, if you say so."
I spun on my boot heels and stomped off toward the mini-mart.
I returned with a giant fountain drink and a water bottle for Rowley even though he'd been obnoxious. Lili buckled herself into the middle seat this time, snug next to him and began flirting before we'd even pulled out of the gas station. I dug thro
ugh my purse until I found my pair of earphones and plugged them into my phone. I tried to concentrate on music and the scenery rather than their conversation.
It was late afternoon by the time we arrived. Dust kicked up as we drove the unpaved path to the stage. There was already quite a crowd sitting in folding chairs and milling around. Pretty surprising considering the desolate venue. I was feeling a little nervous. I'd never played for more than fifty people before. This looked like hundreds.
Rowley unlatched the tailgate and handed me the lightest drum to carry.
Lili grabbed my arm. "You'll never guess who's here?"
She pointed in the direction of a small cluster of people. I swallowed hard. I hadn't seen Finn since the divorce. My breath felt tight in my chest.
"What are you all looking at?" Rowley asked.
"Harper's husband is here."
"Ex-husband," Rowley corrected.
Lili, clearly bewildered by his harsh tone, glanced over at him.
I tugged on her sweater to get her attention. "Did you tell him I'd be here?" I asked her. He hadn't been listed on the show bill a week ago. Had he decided to perform at the last second? The venue was small potatoes for him now.
"I might have let it slip about the concert. Harp, you need to get back with him or you're going to regret it. He's going to blow up. I'm hearing his music on the radio all the time."
I wondered if the band, Heart's Forgery, was now just a vehicle for Finn's ascent. He'd probably leave his band members in the dust and go solo soon.
Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to be by his side when he did make it big.
He really was a decent guy, even if he was too needy and had that artistic genius attitude that the sole purpose of his mate was to support and bolster that genius.
I started walking in his direction. Rowley grabbed my arm pulling me up short. "Hey, where do you think you're going?"
"To talk to him, of course."
"If he wants to talk to you he can come find you."
"You know what? I don't need another brother. One is plenty. So just go ahead and un-deputize yourself."