“I know what slinky outfit plus a male equals.”
She laughed. “I love you, friend, and your sense of humor.”
“There isn’t anything funny about this except how ridiculous I’ve been. Oh, Jilly, you should have heard how flirty I was with him. And it’s not like I was expecting some committed relationship, but if he was seeing someone else, he should have had the decency to tell me.”
“You’re right, but maybe he’s not seeing her.”
“Oh, he was getting an eyeful, all right. Her cleavage was practically busting out of that dress.”
She wore a bemused smile while shaking her head at me. “I think you should call him.”
“Not happening. I’m going to focus on my career and become a nun.”
“Okay, Sister Edith.”
“Only you can call me that without repercussions.” I rubbed my face. “I need to go to work. Instead of love songs, I will be singing, ‘Love Stinks’ and ‘You Can Go Your Own Way.’”
“You have fun with that.”
I gave her a determined nod. “I will.” I didn’t feel that confident inside, but I was a big believer in faking it until you made it.
“Call me if you need me.”
I knew I would. The only way to get over humiliations like this were girlfriends and massive doses of calories. I would never tell my clients, but everyone knew that was a rule.
I didn’t have it in me to perform that night. I served drink after drink and listened to those who needed a friend like Jilly, but didn’t have one. I could hear Momma’s voice telling me it was something to be thankful for out of this awful day.
Mr. I-didn’t-mention-I-had-a-girlfriend called and texted more times than necessary, meaning more than once. I told him not to contact me unless puppies were involved. I let every call go to voicemail where I deleted them before listening, every text went unread as well. I needed to get him out of my system ASAP. Dang him and his bloody accent.
I cried myself to sleep. I hadn’t done that in forever. Not since Phil handed me a check and an ultimatum. Quit my job, sell my house, find a manager and a recording contract. He did it under the guise of trying to support me in my dream, but it was all about how I looked on paper. He even talked about sending Noah to boarding school. I ripped the check up in his face and used some of those same words I used while installing the garbage disposal. No man was going to buy me or tell me how I should live my life.
~*~
The yahoo Englishman gave up quickly. I heard not a peep from him on New Year’s Eve. It was for the best. Not to say I wasn’t disappointed. I was. I really thought we had a connection. And you have no idea how much I was looking forward to New Year’s Day. Now the plan was to stay in bed reading the book Noah gave me and eating my way through the day. If I got adventurous, I would invite Jillian over and we would watch movies while still in my bed. Bed was where I was staying.
The gym was busier than I thought. I guess people were getting a head start on their New Year’s resolutions. I wished I could say the busyness kept my mind off you know who, but I couldn’t. It only made the day go quicker, and for that I was thankful.
That night for work I dolled up a little for the occasion. I wore some black skinny jeans with a gold metallic off-the-shoulder shirt. I even put in some flashy earrings for some bling. Of course, I wore sky high heels. My feet would kill tomorrow, but I would be lying in bed all day, so it didn’t matter. I had rocker chick down.
To heck with the Englishman. I was going to throw it down tonight. I added some more volume to my hair and put on some ruby red lipstick. I wouldn’t be kissing anyone, so I applied liberally.
I dropped Noah off at his friend’s house where he would be spending the night.
“Beck called me.” I think he waited to tell me until he was getting out of the car.
“Really?” I tried to play it off nonchalantly.
“He wanted to see how you’re doing. Said you won’t answer his calls.”
I shrugged.
“Don’t mess this one up.” He shut his door before I could respond.
I was left to stare dumbfounded at him as he walked up to the door. Nope, nope, the Englishman was not getting into my head tonight. It was New Year’s Eve, a time for new beginnings and for letting go and having a little fun. So what if my heart was broken? It was a couple of weeks of insane thoughts. No big deal. I had been through worse. It was way better to find out now that he was a jerk. Actually, I knew he was from the beginning. I should have kept to that. He was really good at that gentleman act, though. Dang man.
Bangers was hopping, which was no surprise. Alcohol and music were favorites on New Year’s Eve. Kent, the owner, had scored some pretty sweet indie bands for the night, so business was even better than predicted. Catching glimpses of the bands in between serving customers had me itching to get up on stage. Some of our regulars were calling for me to come up, but Kent was going to let me ring in the New Year on the stage. I was tickled by the honor.
The only downside of the evening was all the couples. Why did everyone feel the need to act more amorous for the occasion?
Eleven rolled around and I served what I felt was my millionth shot of whiskey. People liked the hard stuff on nights like these. Don’t ask me why. My feet were aching and I needed my second wind. I hadn’t slept well the night before. My nose being so stuffed up from crying kept me up, as well as my thoughts. I looked up from pouring a double shot of whiskey and my heart stopped. I almost dropped the bottle I was holding. In walked the thought that kept me up the previous night, and with him came a beautiful couple. My guess was Christopher and Jaime.
If you could see love, they were it. He held her hand and looked at her with a soft expression as he brushed her hair with his hand. She looked up at him with this glow about her. Mr. Beckett, for all his assets, never stood a chance. I never believed in soul mates, but those two had me second guessing myself. They looked as if they were one. It was like she carried a secret and he was the only one that knew it.
Life goals right there. But when I looked at Mr. Beckett, I was reminded of my pledge to become a nun.
And as if he knew I was looking at him, he turned and our eyes met.
That swooping sensation hit me in my stomach. Why was he here? I guess I was going to find out. He smiled that dashing smile of his and walked my way. His friends followed. I wanted to run and hide, but I had already taken my break and we were insanely busy.
The him squeezed his way into an empty spot, his friends lingered behind him. He didn’t say anything other than to give me a smoldering smile.
It was not lost on me, I assure you, but I decided to play it off cool. “What can I get you . . . to drink?” I felt like I should clarify.
“Hennessy.” It was the same brandy I put in the basket I made for him. I regretted the money I spent on that now.
I looked at his friends, who neared. I noticed how Christopher held Jaime from behind and gently caressed her midsection. She smiled with content and placed her hands on top of his. I couldn’t help but smile. I knew then why she glowed. Their drink order only confirmed my suspicions.
“What is the best non-alcoholic drink you make?” Jaime asked.
I thought for a moment. “It sounds funny, but it tastes amazing—a pimped up pink lemonade.”
She grinned. “Sounds perfect.”
“I’ll have the same,” her husband spoke up.
We all had to speak loudly. Between the band and noise of the crowd, it was hard to hear. And a tad difficult to concentrate. Why did they come? Especially him. I thought I made myself perfectly clear I wanted nothing to do with him. That was a lie, of course. But I did want to forget about him. I’m thankful we never kissed. I would have been a goner, for sure.
I poured the brandy first, it was the easiest. Most brandies are served at room temperature. And manly men order it neat, without ice. The pink lemonade took a little more work. I threw some fresh berries in a shaker with so
me honey and citrus. I gave it a little shake and topped it off with a little bitter lemon. It looked pretty and tasted fantastic. I served up their drinks and went to walk off to help other patrons.
Mr. Englishman had other ideas. He placed his hand on top of mine.
I stared down at them. They looked so nice together.
“You look amazing tonight.”
I looked up and his friends turned around pretending to ignore us, but he looked as sincere as he sounded. I pulled my hand away. My stomach felt like a slip and slide. “Thanks. I better get back to work.”
“I’ll be here.”
I was afraid he was going to say that.
The threesome moved out into the crowd, but just like I kept looking at him, he kept looking at me. I felt like I was going to combust. I hadn’t planned on him tonight. And he looked good. I wanted to grab his bearded face and press my lips against his and run my hands down his chest, covered in his tight-fitting dress shirt that looked like a million bucks on him. Don’t even get me going on his jeans.
I had to take several deep breaths. Focus, Call. Think about Dr. Bimbo at his door yesterday. I watched him interact with his friends. I was interested to see how he behaved around Jaime. I wondered if he knew she was pregnant. I couldn’t see any overt signs that he was still into her. He treated her like Christopher, friendly mannerisms, no longing glances, unless you counted the ones directed at me. They laughed and talked like friends do. So maybe he wasn’t hung up on her.
I was doing a terrible job of concentrating on my work. It was a good thing Quinn took the stage.
“Ladies and gentleman, let’s give it up for one of our own, the exquisite and talented Call. Come on up here, honey.”
I straightened out my blouse and made my way to the stage through the applause and even some chanting of my name. I’ll admit that was pretty cool. But I was feeling warm from the gaze of the resident Brit. I felt a little weird performing under the circumstances, especially my first number, but this was what I was trained to do. Perform my best even under pressure, though it didn’t always work out that way. I’d had the honor of second place to prove it. But everything happens for a reason, right? Noah needed me, and I needed to be with Momma.
I gave a bow and wave when I hit the stage. I tried not to focus on the object of my body’s desire, but he was like a beacon and I honed in on him. He grinned up at me and I found myself smiling back.
Quinn kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear. “Kill em’ tonight, darlin’.”
That was the plan. I walked toward the piano and took the bench. I adjusted the microphone and took a deep breath. “This is for all you lovers tonight. May you have some good arms to hold you tonight and always.” The crowd cheered and I took that as my cue. I took another page from Ella Fitzgerald and started in on, “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?”
The noisy crowd quieted. Ella had that effect. I noticed the couples in the crowd move closer together. Yup. Jealous. I poured my heart and soul into the number. My fingers worked their magic on the keys and my voice was on point. And I must not have been the only one who thought so, either that or everyone was too intoxicated to know the difference, but the applause was as loud as it had ever been. I stood up and acknowledged the amazing band before taking my bow. Then I kicked back the bench and swiped the microphone out of its stand. “Let’s party like it’s 1999.” The crowd cheered as I made my way to Quinn. I let Riley take over on the keyboard. I wouldn’t play for this number, my tribute to the late Prince.
I jumped around on the stage even taking my turn at the drums for a moment while Quinn rocked it with his guitar solo. I wasn’t the best drummer, but I could drop a few beats pretty well and it pumped up the crowd. I enjoyed the duet parts with Quinn. Our voices blended well and we had fun together. By the time it was over, I needed a drink of water and a breather. That’s what I call a good night.
But my job wasn’t over yet. Quinn and I did the countdown to midnight.
“Here we go . . . Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one . . . Happy New Year!”
The cheer was deafening for a brief moment, before all the couples in the crowd did their thing. I watched as each couple turned into each other. For some it seemed awkward, like first kiss awkward, but for others, like Christopher and Jaime, it looked like a fine-tuned process. Then there was the man I wished I was kissing. He paid no attention to his friends. His gaze was set on me. The look of yearning in his eyes had me almost running off the stage and into his arms, but the doctor in her tight dress popped in my head. That gave way to the reality of our situation.
The only kiss I got was Quinn’s on my cheek before I made my way to the break room. Or at least that was the plan. Mr. Beckett and friends stopped me as I was coming off the stage. They had forcefully pushed their way through the crowd. He looked like he meant business. That both delighted and scared the heck out of me.
I had no choice but to stop. I was a lot of things, but I tried not to be rude.
His green eyes were beaming. “You were brilliant, love. Smashing.”
I smiled my thanks. Why did he have to be such an attractive freaking gentleman? My defenses were just about lowered, but then.
“You were spectacular, better than the last time,” rang in my ears.
I turned toward Jaime. Her hazel eyes widened and her hand flew up against her mouth. I felt so stupid. It was her. She was the one who gave me the large tip. No, it was him. I looked up at him and shook my head. His face muscles tightened and he was at a loss for words.
“Excuse me.” I pushed past them all. I headed toward the back exit. I needed the cool night air. As soon as the cold air hit me, I bent over to try and catch my breath. Why would he do that? I didn’t want to be some charity case to him. I didn’t want his money. I would not have another Phil in my life, or be in such an uneven relationship.
I was nowhere near calm enough when I heard someone round the corner. I looked up to find a harried Mr. Beckett. I turned and walked away.
“Call, please stop.”
I kept on walking.
With no effort, he caught up to me. He gently grabbed my arm. “Bloody hell, woman, will you please hear me out.”
I faced him, and before he could get another word out, I took matters into my own hands. “I’m giving you that money back. Expect a check in the mail.”
“Stubborn woman, I won’t accept it.”
I pulled away from him. “Why? Why would you do this? I didn’t want or ask for your help. What must your friends think of me?” I leaned against the brick wall. The cold stung my exposed skin, but at the moment I didn’t care. Tears pricked my eyes.
He stood in front of me. We were almost eye level with my high heels on, which reminded me my feet ached. His thumb swiped a tear as it trailed down my cheek. “Now that won’t do. I told you I don’t do emotional females.”
“I don’t do this.”
“What’s this?”
I pointed between us. “I don’t have relationships with men who have girlfriends or think they can buy me.”
“Love, you’ve gone mad if you think that’s the case.”
“I am mad. You humiliated me in front of your friends and that woman yesterday.”
“If you would listen to me or return my phone calls or messages, you would know that woman is mental. I ended my relationship with her before I met you. I was not expecting her to show up at my house. I told her to get stuffed after you left. Your timing couldn’t have been worse.”
“No, actually, it was perfect timing. It was a good reminder that you and I live in different worlds. I work in a bar. I will never have a fancy degree, house, or car. As you know, and so do your friends, money is tight for me and maybe it always will be, so please just leave and take your money back.” I hung my head and let the tears fall. I shook there in the cold of the night.
He lifted my chin with the gentle touch of his hand. He leaned in, pulled on one of my curls, and half-sm
iled. “It was never my intention to humiliate you. I never wanted you to know where that money came from, but Jaime mucked that up. Regardless, they, like me, think you’re outstanding. I do not pity you. I envy you.”
I shook my head. “Me?”
“Yes, love, you. Your sheer will power alone is commendable, but I see how you care for your brother and put his needs above your own; even your career. Watching you tonight, there is no doubt you belong on a stage, but for the love of your family, you walked away. Now that’s bloody impressive. So don’t do me the dishonor of returning the only noble thing I’ve done in a long while.”
The tears were pouring now. “I can’t keep that money.”
He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he spoke the unwritten language when his lips pressed against mine. I didn’t think, I only reacted. My hands found their way up his tight chest until my lips parted. I pulled him closer and his body melded against mine. The cold I had felt disappeared. His soft lips consumed mine. His kiss was all I hoped it would be and more. He tasted like expensive brandy and cinnamon; it was enough for me to get drunk on him. His hands found their way into my hair. I deepened the kiss and he groaned.
Best New Year’s kiss ever.
We were interrupted by a noisy crowd leaving the bar.
His lips released mine, but his body stayed snugly against me. His green eyes were bright with a hint of mischief.
“Why did you do that?” I could barely breathe.
“From the way you kissed me back, you don’t get to ask that.”
Chapter Seventeen
He was right. It was a stupid question, but my brain had shut down temporarily. I was not expecting my night to go that way. I wasn’t complaining, but it left me with decisions to make. He left choices on the table. I left confused. Torn by desire, my stubborn will, and fear.
I did spend New Year’s Day in bed. Jillian joined me, making me feel like a teen all over again. We glutted ourselves on rom-coms and junk food.
I leaned my head on her shoulder. “Jilly, tell me what I should do.”
She patted my cheek. “Tell me what he said again?”
Beck and Call (Pianos and Promises #2) Page 9