The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series
Page 63
The same nice woman gave us our key, and we rode the elevator up to our room, giving each other shy smiles and sly glances. We both knew we’d probably get a little more exercise before our shower and rest.
When we got into the spacious room, I grinned with delight. “Ooohh, look at this big bed. We could get lost in it.”
“I think a rest is definitely in order. Some playtime too,” John added with a wink.
Our bags arrived and we spent a few minutes putting what we needed on hangers and finding which side of the bathroom would be his and which would be mine. We’d already made love several times, and yet suddenly, I felt almost shy. Maybe it was because of the close quarters, or the fact we weren’t in my comfort zone or in his.
Using the bathroom, I undressed and found a white cotton robe in the closet, which I quickly put on but didn’t close. I walked into the room and found John, in bed, sitting up, playing with the TV remote.
“You want to watch something spicy to get you in the mood?”
“You mean porn?” I slid into bed. “I’ve never watched it but I guess I could.”
“How about ‘College girls go wild’?” John asked, sliding his hand under my robe.
“How about middle-aged woman going wild instead?” I said as I opened my legs.
“I’ll go with that.” Putting the remote aside, John turned his attention to me, and true to my word, I did get a little wild.
We managed a quick nap, then showered and dressed and were downstairs in the lobby before half past four. Being a college town and before the dinner hour, we dressed down. I wore slim fitting black jeans and a baby blue, V-neck top. My hair flounced just above my shoulders, and my face was slightly flushed and more animated than usual. John wore faded, low rider blue jeans, and his slimmed-down belly barely hung over his belt. He put on a cream-colored Ralph Lauren shirt and looked more handsome than ever.
We were seated in comfortable chairs in the lobby when one of the twins came rushing through the doors. “Dad! Hey, man, it’s good to see you.” He hugged his father, and I, being naturally smart, figured this must be Sean.
I stepped forward. “Hi, Sean. I’m Fran.”
He didn’t take my offered hand, just swept me into a warm embrace, nearly crushing me as he did so. “Fran, thanks for coming. We wanted to meet the woman who saved Dad’s ass.”
“My pleasure,” I said with a grin. “It was worth saving.”
He punched his dad in the arm. “What? You a fire chief and you couldn’t even smell fire? You must be getting old.” Sean winked at me. “Now, maybe you’ll agree that women should be hired as firefighters too.”
“Not in my department,” John grumbled. “No friggin’ way. We’ve got enough griping without some dame going at it too.”
I punched his other arm. “Dame? Who even calls women that anymore? And some women are very easy to please. Look at me, hanging with you.”
Sean laughed. “I knew I would like you.”
I put my arm through Sean’s arm. “The feeling is mutual.” We started walking toward the door, and John followed. “So you must be excited about the game tonight. Hear you’re quite the star player.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Well, your Dad told me, but I also looked up your team on the internet. Very impressive season you’re having. And you’re one of the top hitters.”
“I’ve had a good year. Better than last, that’s for sure.”
“Well, I can’t wait to hear all about it at dinner tonight.” I smiled at him. “Have you got a girlfriend?”
“No, why, did Stephen say something?”
“I just figured a good-looking guy like you would have girls begging for dates.”
He laughed. “There might be a few, but I don’t like to break anyone’s heart. I keep my options open.”
John harrumphed. “Clever boy.”
I tossed him a look. “Don’t be such a grump.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him forward. “We have an exciting night ahead of us. The Tar Heels are going to kick some Virginia Tech butt.”
We reached the car, and Stephen stepped out and gave my cheek a kiss. “Hey, Fran. Did you get to see the town, or was the ole’ man too tired to take you around?”
I looked from one twin to the next, seeing how it would be easy to mistake one for the other. They both had the same long, lithe build, flashing blue eyes like their father, but Sean wore his hair a little longer and wasn’t as meticulously groomed as his brother.
“He took me around a block or two.” I gave them a bright smile. “And we had an early lunch at the Caroline Coffee Shop. Great food.”
“It’s also a great drinking hole,” Sean said. “Music, pretty girls, excellent selection of beer.” He nodded to his brother. “We might end up there after the game. You should come.”
I winked at John. “We might be too tuckered. We had an active day.”
John blushed and rubbed his chin. “Yeah, a lot of exercise walking around.”
“Not to mention other things,” I said happily. When I saw Stephen raise his brow, I quickly added, “We were up awfully early, and traveling can be tiring.”
Sean laughed. “Why are both of you blushing?” Then his eyes widened. “No Dad, not you.”
“And why the hell not? What’s wrong with me? I’m only fifty, not quite in the grave, thanks to this good woman here.”
Warmth flooded me. This was going to be a very special night after all.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
JOHN
The boys took Fran and me to Carmine’s Ristorante in the Eastgate Shopping mall—a short walk from the hotel. The place was near empty, but a few shoppers sat outdoors on the patio and a few more cozied up in the indoor booths.
Had I been alone with Fran I’d probably have chosen to eat inside but figured the ambiance would be lost on the boys. We got a table for four on the patio, and Fran and I ordered a glass of wine. The boys both had cokes, and since I was picking up the tab, I told them to order anything they wanted. Not that I’m a big spender, but the food smelled delicious and the menu price was cheap.
We ordered fried calamari for the table and a Caprese salad. The restaurant provided fresh bread with an herb and olive oil dip. Stephen, being the politer of the two, asked Fran about herself.
I watched, impressed with how easy going she was with my boys. Prepared to step in and stop an interrogation, I found I wasn’t needed as Fran gracefully explained how she worked for a law firm as an office manager, and that she’d been married once, but that her husband died on their fifth wedding anniversary twenty years ago.
Sean and Stephen exchanged an empathetic look, and my heart swelled with pride at the men they’d become.
Fran patted both of them on the hand, keeping her tone light. “I hadn’t dated since. Pathetic, I know, but I lost our baby, and I just couldn’t get going again. I went to work, sang in a church choir, and didn’t socialize much. It was enough for a long time but things changed a few years ago.” I noticed how Fran unconsciously scooted closer to me as she continued talking. “I became friendly with Lydia, one of the lawyers, who took me to the Candy Bar and introduced me to a few of her friends.”
“Uh-huh.” Sean grinned. “So now you hang out at the bars all night,” he joked and Fran laughed. “Is that how you two met?”
I turned fifty shades of red, and looked at Fran. She gave me a ‘go ahead’ nod.
“It is. Fran had a singing gig that night, and I was there for a stag party. One of my crew is getting married in a few weeks.” I don’t know what possessed me to tell them the whole story, but I went with it. “Anyway, the bar sits on an Ancient Indian burial ground and during tropical storms, strange things go on. Candy, the bar owner, says magic is in the air.”
“Was there a storm that night?” Sean asked, looking amused.
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
“And that how you too met? Magic?” Sean shook his head. “I don’t believe it, Dad.”
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I hadn’t either. “All I know is I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”
Sean laughed and smacked the table with his palm while Stephen raised his eyebrow and turned to Fran. “Really? Do you believe in this magic too?”
Fran chuckled and reached for my hand. “Dang straight! It felt like an electrical force zapped right through me. I’ve known about the Candy Bar magic for years, but it’s never hit me before.” She leaned on the table and lowered her voice. “My friend, Lydia, met Jed during a storm, and she got knocked up that night. She’s a divorce attorney and didn’t believe in love, marriage, happily-ever-after, but her whole world was shaken upside down.”
“Oh, yeah?” Sean peered into my eyes, looking for a sign that I was bullshitting them. “What about you Dad? You can’t honestly believe this. Come on.”
I didn’t know how to answer. One thing for sure, Fran had gotten under my skin. I’d been like Lydia, not believing in love and fairy-tales, enjoying my solitude, but now I wanted to be around a woman again. Not just any woman but Fran.
“I’m still seeing her,” I said, nudging Fran’s foot under the table.
She smiled pertly. “And he’s liking it.”
The calamari arrived and we put in our dinner orders. Stephen was having veal parmesan, Sean ordered the house specialty, Pasta Antonia with chicken. Fran selected a salmon piccata dish, and I decided on spaghetti bolognaise.
While we waited for the main meals to arrive, the boys quizzed me on the fire and about their stepbrother, Casey.
“I always knew he was crazy,” Stephen said. “Even as a kid, he did some weird-ass things.” He glanced at his brother. “Remember how we would come home from school and notice things touched or rearranged in our room? We knew he was messing with us, but he never took anything, just let us know that he’d been snooping. And I know he killed the neighbor’s cat, but I couldn’t prove it. When I accused him, he just had a gloating smile on his face.”
Sean nodded. “He’s a sociopath, no doubt about it. He would grab those tiny geckos by the tail and swing them around, then fling them against a wall. He thought that was great fun.”
Fran shuddered. “Wasn’t there anything you could do?”
“I never knew this stuff. Why didn’t you boys tell me?” They shrugged, as if they’d done something wrong.
“You guys were kids yourselves,” I said, not wanting them to feel bad. “He made me nervous too.”
“He did, Dad?” Stephen punched Sean on the arm. “Told you Casey was a creeper with a Capital C.”
“Yeah. But I never caught him doing anything wrong, which made me feel like a jerk for not trusting him.”
“You were right, Dad. What kind of sentence will he get?” Sean asked.
“I’m not sure what they will charge him with,” I answered honestly. “It will most likely be an attempted first degree murder charge because the prosecution can prove it was planned, and the plan was put in motion when he lit the fire while we were in bed sleeping.” Taking a sip of wine I added, “I hope so, anyway. Fran could have been hurt.”
“Killed. Both of us. It definitely should be first degree,” Fran stated. “Arson, attempted murder, terrifying old folks,” she joked to keep the mood from getting maudlin. I appreciated her good sense.
The waiter returned with their main meals, stopping the conversation for a few minutes as everyone ate.
“Mmm, this is delicious.” Fran was the first to put her fork down. “John, what about Beowulf? The police should give him a doggy reward. A nice gold cross or one of those kegs that Saint Bernard’s carry around their necks.”
His sons laughed. “I think he’d prefer that to a cross. I know I would,” Sean said with a grin.
Stephen turned his attention to Fran. “So tell us how you got to know Jay Carpenter.” He added as a sidebar to his brother, “She’s singing with him in Tampa this weekend.”
“No kidding?” Sean’s eyes widened. “Cool. You must be good.”
“More lucky than good,” Fran replied with a wave of her hand. “It was kind of bizarre how we met. I practically stalked him. He was the headliner at a local fair and I found him at the nearest bar. To get his attention I got on one of those mechanical bulls, and I didn’t know what I was doing. I fell off and ended up with a cut lip. Jay used to be in the rodeo circuit, and he came to my rescue.”
I folded my arms and gave her a long look. “That doesn’t explain how you got to sing with him that weekend.”
“No, we exchanged a few words then I thought, nothing ventured, nothing gained, so I came out and told him I’d come there to meet him and asked if he could use me in his band. He didn’t take too well to that idea but finally agreed to let me audition. And as they say, the rest is history.”
“Now he’s going to help her prepare to audition for America Loves Country,” I added, hearing the grumpy tones and yet unable to help myself. Damn it to hell. Guess I was jealous.
“That’s great, Fran. Dad should be proud of you,” Sean said, sending his father a meaningful look.
“I’m not sure that he is,” she said and slid out of the booth. “Excuse me for a sec while I go to the ladies.” She nudged Sean’s arm as she passed. “See if you can talk some sense into your father, will you?”
“So what’s the prob, Dad?” Stephen asked when Fran was out of hearing distance. “Are you worried she’s more interested in him, than you?”
“No. I just don’t trust the guy. Fran’s told me that he sleeps around, and she’s kind of naive about that sort of thing.”
Sean shook his head. “Fran’s not naive. Not by a long shot. I think it’s great that someone her age is pursuing her dream.” He gave me a thumbs up. “I hope she hits it big.”
“That’s not likely to happen,” I snapped. “The competition will be nothing but young people. Pretty girls like Carrie Underwood make it big. Not someone like Fran.”
I turned my head, and Fran stood only feet away.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
FRAN
My cheeks flamed, and my entire body felt hot. I wanted to turn and run but I stood rooted to the spot. The boys kept their eyes on their plates, embarrassed, I’m sure. They all knew I’d heard John’s hurtful words, and yet no one said a thing.
I sat down quietly and picked up my fork. “Well, let’s not let our meals get cold. Eat up, Sean. You’ve got a big game ahead of you.”
John didn’t have the decency to look me in the eye. He took a slug of his wine and choked on it. If he expected me to pat him on the back, he had another thing coming. He could choke to death for all I cared.
I didn’t need him. I didn’t need anybody. I’m Fran Sherman and nothing and nobody will tell me what I can or can’t do. Nobody, especially someone who has as little faith in me as he does.
Jay wouldn’t waste his time if he thought I didn’t have talent. What would a fifty-year-old firefighter/wannabe fisherman know about talent and the music industry? Exactly. Nothing.
I finished my dinner in three angry bites and ordered another glass of wine. I knocked that back pretty quick too.
John took my hand and held it in his lap. He kissed my cheek and said he was sorry. I batted back tears and gave a weak smile, acting as if I accepted his apology. I would have to swallow my hurt until we were alone. No way would I give it to John in front of his kids.
John paid the bill and we left the restaurant. Sean had to leave, and Stephen seemed at a loss as to what to do.
“Is it time for us to go to the stadium or should we meet you there?” I asked Stephen, knowing that he probably wanted to get rid of us and giving him an out. Besides, I wanted to be alone with John, so I could unleash all the ugly accusations in my head.
He glanced at his watch, although I’m sure he knew the time. “You don’t need to be there for another hour. You want to hit a bar or walk around town?”
John spoke, “Why don’t we meet you there, Stephen? I think Fran and I will go back to the room and
freshen up.”
He nodded and looked at me. “Okay, then.” He gave me a quick hug. “See you later, Fran. Dad.” He took off as quickly as his long legs would carry him.
I watched him go then I turned slowly to John. “You know it’s over, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?” He took my shoulders and forced me to look him in the face. “You know I’m sorry for saying what I did. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“But you did. What hurts the most is that you don’t believe in me. You think my age will hold me back and maybe it will, but at least I have the guts to try. That’s more than most people.” I blinked back tears. “If I don’t win the competition, so what? At least I gave it a shot.”
“That’s true. I didn’t think of it that way.”
“No, you didn’t think at all. Comparing me to Carrie Underwood. How dare you?” My voice rose and shook, and I was afraid I would start to cry.
I turned and ran, not knowing where I was going, just knowing that I had to get away from John and the people milling about the mall. I needed to be alone until I could get my feelings under control.
I had a ball game to go to, whether I wanted to be there or not. I would never have anything to do with John after tomorrow, but tonight, I’d buck up and pretend my heart hadn’t been smashed.
I pushed open the door and ran outside, heading toward the campus grounds. When I was far enough away and sure John hadn’t followed me, I sat on a park bench and sobbed. When my tears stopped, I found a couple of tissues in my handbag and dried my eyes, sniffing away the last of the sobs. I stood and walked slowly back to the hotel.
When I entered the room, John was there, sitting on the bed.
He glanced up and I noticed his eyes were suspiciously red. “Fran. I don’t know what to say to make this right. If you want, I’ll get another room for the night. You can stay here. You don’t have to go to the game. I’ll make excuses to the boys.”
“I’ll go to the game because I couldn’t get a flight out. I already booked another room. And just so you know. I never want to see you again after tonight.” His eyes welled with tears, and I continued, “I don’t hate you. I just don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t believe in me and who doesn’t support what I want to do.”