by Parker, Ali
I hadn’t been prepared for it, but I hugged him and clapped him on the back. “Good to see you, Mr. Johnson. You look good.”
“As do you, my boy. As do you. Young and fit as ever. How’s that lad of yours doing?”
“Roy is good. He’s spending the night with his grandfather.”
Mr. Johnson’s eyes twinkled. I was sure he remembered how strained my relationship was with my father. He didn’t say anything, though, and I was grateful for that. “I’m happy to hear that. And is that Mr. Miller I see over by the bar?”
I twisted around to look back at Elijah, who was ordering our beers. I nodded. “Sure is. I’m surprised you remember him. He wasn’t a band kid.”
“Well, neither were you. Not really.”
I smirked. “True.” I caught another couple of people my age walking into the cafe. I didn’t recognize them, but they caught Mr. Johnson’s eye and waved. They started making their way over, and I patted the band director on the shoulder. “You mingle and chat with your guests. I’ll be around, making sure Elijah doesn’t break anything.”
He smiled. “You do that. I’ll come find you later.”
I wandered off and rejoined Elijah, who had found us a table. He sipped the foam from the top of his beer as I picked mine up, and then he nodded at Mr. Johnson. “He seemed happy to see you. Which is odd. Because I don’t recall any teachers at Baker High liking you much.”
I shrugged. “Mr. Johnson was different.”
“As in, he saw past your bad attitude and poor social skills?”
“Yeah, exactly. And he knew who my father was.”
“Ah. That helps. Well. To Mr. Johnson, then.” Elijah raised his beer in a toast.
I lifted my glass as well, and when I tilted my head back to drink, I caught a glimpse of brown hair out of the corner of my eye. I put the beer down without drinking. Elijah started taking a crack at me, but I couldn’t hear him. I was lost.
In her.
Elise had just walked in the front door.
Her long brown hair was down and had been blown all over the place by a gust of wind. She was pulling strands of it from her lip gloss and eyelashes. She looked around, didn’t see me, and smiled as she spotted Mr. Johnson. Good lord, she was even more beautiful than she had been back then.
Elijah waved his hand in front of my face, and I slapped it out of the way.
“What the hell are you so fixated on?” Elijah asked. He followed my gaze. “Oh. Right.”
Elise was wearing skin-tight jeans that showed off her long legs, strong thighs, and curvy hips. Her upper half was bundled up in a thick scarf and puffy black jacket.
A pretty blonde walked in behind her. Double whammy.
“Kate,” Elijah breathed.
And, just like that, me and my buddy were suddenly back in high school. My body vibrated with adrenaline, and I knew one thing: I wasn’t leaving this place until I spoke to her.
Chapter 6
Elise
As soon as we walked into the café, I was hit with the powerful smells of nutmeg and cinnamon—and something else I couldn’t quite place. Kate came in behind me and nudged me in the back, encouraging me to move my ass rather than stand in front of the door like a deer in the headlights, staring around at all the people in the room.
So I moved.
I skirted around a couple who were right smack in front of me, and Kate grabbed hold of the back of my jacket so we weren’t separated. She knew I didn’t do well with crowds.
We made a beeline to the bar, where I knew I could get a cup of liquid courage of some sort. On our way over, we were interrupted by a friendly, wrinkled old face, hosting the most magnificent gray moustache I had ever seen.
“Mr. Johnson!” I cried, giving my old band director a great big hug.
He laughed and hugged me back. “It’s great to see you, Elise. Thank you so much for coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Retiring is a big deal, especially for you. The man who just couldn’t quit.”
He laughed again and shook his head at me. “I haven’t been ready up until now. The thought of not going to work every day scared me. Now, it brings me a sense of relief. Well, sort of. Now I get to stay home and start crossing things off my wife’s list of things to do around the house.”
“At least winter is around the corner, and you can delay said chores until the spring,” I offered.
“You don’t know my wife,” he said, grinning. “I kid. She is equally as sweet as she is a workaholic. I would rather do things that make her happy than continue to work day in and day out. The kids are not as nice as they used to be.”
“I blame the parents,” I said.
He tapped the side of his head with his forefinger, right on the temple. “As do I, my dear. As do I.”
I grabbed Kate’s hand and pulled her up beside me. “You remember my older sister Kate?”
“Kate, yes, of course I do! How are you?” Mr. Johnson reached out and shook my sister’s hand.
She smiled. “I’m doing well. I’m getting into fostering abused animals, and I work at a veterinary clinic.”
“What do you do there?” he asked curiously.
“I’m a vet tech.”
Mr. Johnson nodded. “Very nice. I remember how much you loved animals. In fact, if I recall correctly, it was you who started the petition to end the frog dissections in Biology.”
Kate turned a nearly fluorescent shade of pink. “Um. Yes. You remember correctly.”
Mr. Johnson’s grin broadened. “Ah yes. You had fire in you, Kate. I liked that. It did not surprise me at all to learn that Elise was your younger sister.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.
Mr. Johnson gave us both a knowing smile. “You are very similar, the two of you. And if you were clever women, which I know you are, you would see that for the compliment it is.”
Kate and I exchanged a look, and I was the one to speak first. “I guess this is where we say thank you?”
Mr. Johnson stroked his moustache. “No need. You two go get yourselves something to drink. I have to say a few more quick hellos, and then I have an announcement to make.”
“An announcement?” I asked, prying for more details.
“Yes, I’m rather excited about it. You two find a seat after you order. I’ll give you a few minutes.”
He passed between us, and Kate and I stepped back to the bar, where we fell into line behind a guy wearing a plaid shirt. Kate elbowed me gently in the ribs. “You’re right. He’s cool.”
“I know. He always was.”
“I didn’t mean like, suave cool. More like he’s a good guy sort of cool.”
“Pfft,” I spat. “He’s both, and you know it.”
We waited until we were at the front of the line, and then we each ordered a glass of red wine. We found a high table after that, and as Mr. Johnson made his way to the raised platform in the corner of the bar, I shrugged out of my jacket and draped it over the back of my chair. I slid into my seat and ran my fingers through my hair as my old band director took the microphone from its stand and addressed the room.
“Thank you for coming, everyone. It means a lot to me that you’re all here. It’s been a long time since I saw some of your faces looking up at me like this. It all feels a bit surreal, to be honest with you. It seems like just yesterday I took the job of band director at Baker High. And am I ever glad that I did. I met all of you through that wonderful, sometimes incredibly frustrating job. Teenagers can only be so endearing, and some of them just make you want to put your head in a microwave, if you know what I mean.”
The room chuckled. Kate nudged my shin with the toe of her boot under the table. “You’re right. He’s cool cool.”
I winked. “I know.”
Mr. Johnson continued. “A lot of you have asked me this evening what my plans are now that I’m retired. And I’ve told most of you that my wife has a list long enough to keep me busy until I die. I’m
thankful for that. She keeps me young. But I also have another project in the works that I would like to tell you all about right now. I’m starting my own music education program for the youth of Bar Harbor.”
I sat up a little straighter. Something bright suddenly lit up inside me at his words. That was a brilliant idea, and just the sort of thing I wished I had as a young girl growing up.
Mr. Johnson went on to explain where he was going to start his business and what his plans were for it. But as he got into the nitty gritty details, I heard Kate draw a sharp breath beside me.
I looked over at her. She was staring over my right shoulder at the bar. I was filled with dread. I shouldn’t have turned around. But I did. Slowly.
I twisted in my chair until I was looking where she was looking, and I found my eyes meeting a pair of dark brown ones.
Dallas Jansen.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
And he fucking smiled at me.
It was that same damn smile of his that had gotten me into trouble with him in the first place. That lopsided, charming as hell grin that made my knees weak and my heart flutter.
He had a beer in one hand. He raised the other in a small wave. I didn’t wave back. I continued scowling until my forehead hurt, and then I turned back around and tried to distract myself with what Mr. Johnson was saying. But his words went in one ear and out the other. All I could think about was the fact that Dallas was standing behind me.
“Oh hell no,” I heard Kate mutter.
“What?” I asked sharply.
“Elijah is here too.”
I huffed. “Oh, who gives a damn about Elijah!”
“They’re coming over.”
My eyes widened. “No, they’re not. Tell me they’re not. I can’t get up and leave yet. We just got here. That would be so rude and—”
I was cut off when Dallas appeared on my right side. He pulled out the chair beside me and sank into it. He moved the same way he used to, like every movement was effortless. He had a strange sort of grace to him that only enhanced his beauty.
I knew it was strange to call a man beautiful, but it was hard to come up with a better adjective to capture the essence of Dallas Jansen. There were other words to describe his nature, sure, but none of them aligned with his appearance.
He was cunning. Devious. Charming. Spontaneous. Rude. Reckless.
And, unfortunately, beautiful.
He had big brown eyes a girl could lose her soul in. His sharp, chiseled, square jaw was shaded with black stubble that led up to his mane of thick black hair. His cheekbones were high and angled downward, giving him a brooding look that was an absolute panty dropper.
Dallas rested his forearms atop the table after putting his beer down. His attention was on Mr. Johnson, who was wrapping up his speech. As soon as the now ex-band director was done and the room applauded, Dallas turned his dark stare to me.
“Hey there, Billingsly.”
“Jansen,” I said dryly. I tried to look as disinterested as possible as I sipped my wine and looked everywhere but at him.
Dallas was still looking at me when Elijah sat down on Kate’s other side. “Hey, Kate. It’s been a while.”
“Hi, Elijah,” she said. She had a damn smile on her lips.
I scowled at her, and she rearranged her features to match my sour mood.
Dallas cleared his throat. “I thought there was a chance I might run into you here. It’s good to see you. How’ve you been?”
“You know,” I said before downing the last four mouthfuls of my wine. Dallas blinked at me in surprise as I dragged the back of my hand across my mouth. “This is such funny timing. Kate and I were actually about to leave. Early morning and such.”
“Are you sure you can’t stay for fifteen minutes or something? Just to catch up.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” I said.
He shrugged one shoulder. “All right. You have a safe way home?”
I shot him a dirty look. “I’ve had one glass of wine. I’ll be fine.”
“Just making sure,” he said. Then he lifted his beer and took a swig. “See you around.”
I didn’t say goodbye. I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair and took Kate’s hand. She was still making googly eyes at Elijah, who gave her an obviously disappointed, sulky wave as I dragged her from the table and to the door.
“Don’t you want to say goodbye to Mr. Johnson?” Kate asked.
“I’ll call him in the morning and tell him something came up. He’ll understand. I want to call him anyway. I missed his whole speech because of that asshole.”
We emerged on the sidewalk. I put my jacket on and started shivering almost instantly.
Kate bit her bottom lip. “It’s been a long time since you last saw Dallas. Maybe he’s not the same guy he used to be? People change after high school, Elise. You’re kind of selling him short.”
“I don’t care,” I said.
Kate sighed and looked back and forth down the street. “Should we start walking then?”
We started walking the four blocks back to my apartment, where Kate had parked her car. Kate cut through the silence when we were almost back at my place.
“Elijah looked good.”
“Kate, don’t start. Please?”
She shrugged. “What?”
“You and Elijah. It could never work. He’s trouble with a capital T.”
“You’re a writer. I thought you weren’t supposed to use clichés like that?”
I rolled my eyes and stopped walking. “And you’re a smart woman. You’re not supposed to be into guys like Elijah Miller. Steer clear, Kate. Seriously.”
“Relax,” she mumbled. “All I said was the guy looks good. And for the record, so does Dallas.”
“I know.” I sighed. “It’s maddening.”
Chapter 7
Dallas
When I pulled into my father’s driveway at a quarter after nine on Sunday morning, the front door opened before I even had the chance to get out of my car.
Roy came racing out the door. I barely made it down to one knee by the time he reached me and threw his arms around my shoulders in greeting. I stood with him in my arms, hugging him tightly.
“Hey.” I grinned, tossing him up a bit so I could get my arm under him. “You know, you’re getting a bit too big for this. Soon, I won’t be able to carry you at all.”
“You say that every time.”
I chuckled. “I know I do. And one day, it will actually be true.”
“But not today,” Roy said cheerfully.
“No, not today.”
My father appeared in the open doorway. He was wearing his dark red robe, sewn with gold thread, and had a cup of steaming coffee in one hand. It was a very familiar sight. It reminded me of my childhood, robe and all.
“Morning, Dad,” I said in greeting as I walked up to the door with Roy still in my arms.
“He’s a bit old to be carried, don’t you think?” my father asked, cocking his head slightly to the side.
My father would forever be incapable of keeping his opinions to himself. I shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since last night. And I won’t be able to do this forever.”
“Sure you can, Dad,” Roy said, tightening his little fists in the collar of my jacket.
I smiled at him. “I’ll remind you that you said that when you’re fifteen and completely embarrassed by me.”
“I’d never be embarrassed of you,” Roy said with a genuine frown.
“Uh huh. So you say.”
My father cleared his throat to steer my attention back to him. “How was your evening?”
“Good, actually. Better than I expected. Turns out, Mr. Johnson isn’t really retiring. He plans on opening a musical education center here in town for youths who don’t have access to a music program in their school. Pretty cool, I think. Especially nowadays.”
“It’s music,” my father said dryly.
I sighed. “Yes, I realize that.”
/> “They should have a free football team instead. Something that actually helps kids and gives them better tools for the real world. Playing the clarinet can only get you so far.”
As always, my father missed the point. I decided it wasn’t worth arguing about, so I shifted gears. “Thanks for watching Roy. Did you guys have a good time?”
My question was directed at my son, but my father beat him to the punch with his answer. “That, we did. The roast dinner was marvelous, and then we played some board games and called it an early night.”
Roy nodded. “It was fun, Dad.”
“Good,” I said. “Now we should head home. I have some work to do, and you, little man, need to have a bath. I can smell you from here.”
Roy giggled as I tickled his ribs.
My father shook his head at our foolishness. “All right. You two get out of here. I have some business calls to make as well. I have to speak with Winzly about bringing in some fresh writers. Things are getting stale.”
“Oh, she found one, actually. I have a meeting with her next week. Winzly said the girl is promising. Plenty of talent and an easy person to market, according to her.”
“Winzly usually knows what she’s talking about. You take this seriously now, Dallas. No more parties like last night. They won’t get you anywhere. You need to commit yourself to making this writer a star. You need traction.”
“Dad, I know what I’m doing.”
“Really? Because retirement parties for someone you haven’t spoken to in years seem like a bad waste of time. Your work should be your top priority.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “It’s not.”
My father looked like I’d just told him I’d taken up recreational heroin. “What do you mean, it’s not?”
I felt a surge of pride at tricking him into asking the question. I adjusted my arm under Roy again and looked my son in the eye before saying, “Roy is my top priority. The company and our writers will always come second to that. Everything comes second to that.”