The Gift

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The Gift Page 12

by Heather Slade


  She remembered feeling the same way the day he moved into the only other apartment on her floor. Initially, she thought he worked for the moving company but found out differently when she got on the elevator with the rest of the movers at the end of the day.

  “I haven’t met my new neighbor yet,” she’d said. “I hope he didn’t work you too hard today.”

  “No ma’am,” one of the men had answered. “Mr. Bryant helped.”

  After seeing him that day, even from a distance, she’d been surprised the board had approved the sale. He looked like someone who should grace the cover of a SEAL romance novel, not that she read them, but still—he screamed military.

  Creeping closer, she realized how much taller he was than she’d thought. Quinn fanned her face at the hard outline of his muscular back. Did the man really need to wear a shirt that tight?

  It seemed as though he was looking for someone, but rather than making his way through the crowd, he stayed on the periphery.

  Quinn hadn’t decided whether or not to say hello, when he turned and looked straight at her.

  “Hi,” she murmured.

  His eyes scrunched and then widened in recognition. “Hello,” he answered.

  In the light from the party, Quinn noticed that his hair, which she thought was brown, was more of a sandy color and, as she got closer, that his eyes were a light shade of hazel, like toffee.

  “Mr. Bryant…” What could she say that wouldn’t offend him? Her first inclination was to ask what he was doing there.

  “It’s Mercer.”

  Quinn’s cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Mercer.”

  “Just Mercer.”

  Oh. Mercer was handsome. Very handsome, in fact, with a body that sped up her heart rate. His tight, black, v-neck shirt emphasized the muscles on the front of him as effectively as the back, and his arms were rock-solid.

  Her first impression, that he was a military man, stuck. He kept his hair neatly trimmed, but his groomed, medium-stubble beard ruled him out as being active duty. Didn’t it?

  She shook her head at the memory she didn’t realize she carried with her. It had been years since she’d spent time with her grandparents, not since she left for boarding school, but one memory remained of her grandfather talking about his days in the Marines.

  She’d asked him what the word “jarhead” meant, and he’d told her it had nothing to do with the high and tight haircut he’d still sported, but had more to do with a Marine’s willingness to follow orders without question.

  “Our heads are hard, but sometimes empty,” he’d joked.

  They’d talked about beards that day too, because her grandmother had teased that his would hardly pass muster.

  “What are you doing here?” The question slipped out, even though she’d decided, a minute ago, it would be rude to ask.

  “Meeting friends,” he answered almost too quickly, as if he’d anticipated the question. “You?” he added.

  “With friends, although…” Quinn liked that he kept his gaze steady and didn’t finish her sentence when she hesitated. “I was thinking about leaving.”

  “Me too,” he murmured.

  “I was about to call for car service, if you want to share a ride,” she offered.

  “I have a car.”

  Oh. Did that mean he was offering her a ride or declining her invitation to share one?

  He turned to leave, but looked back when Quinn didn’t follow. “Coming?” he asked.

  “I should probably let my friends know…” Again, he didn’t finish her sentence. “I guess I could just text them.”

  He nodded and motioned for her to follow.

  “Here we are,” he said, stopping next to a sleek convertible that reminded Quinn of a bullet.

  “Nice car,” she said after he’d opened her door, waited for her to be seated, and then closed it behind her.

  “Thanks. It isn’t mine.”

  “No?” Interesting. Maybe the apartment wasn’t either, although Quinn hadn’t seen anyone else come or go. “Whose is it?”

  “Belongs to a friend.”

  “It’s nice that your friend lets you use it.” Quinn ran her hand over the supple, dark-colored leather. “What is it?”

  “A Jaguar Series One E-Type. Uh…sixty-two.”

  He answered as though he expected her to know what that meant. Jaguar was the only part of it that sounded familiar. Having lived in and around New York City for the last fourteen years, cars hadn’t been something she had reason to learn much about. She’d never even learned to drive.

  Quinn relaxed in the comfortable seat of the Jaguar, shifting her focus from the man next to her to the warm summer breeze on her face.

  “Cold?” he asked, once he picked up speed on the highway.

  “It feels good. Although…maybe a little.”

  Mercer reached behind her seat and pulled out a blanket. “Mind if I leave the top down?”

  Quinn snuggled under it. “No. It’s fine. What about you? Do you have a jacket?”

  “I don’t get cold,” he answered.

  “Ever?”

  “Not in the summer.”

  “Hmm.”

  Mercer turned and looked at her when she didn’t continue. “Yeah?”

  “Nothing.”

  He smiled. It was the first time she’d seen him do anything but frown. “You have a nice smile.”

  He looked away, as though he wasn’t used to the compliment. “You do too,” she heard him murmur.

  She studied him longer than she should have. He probably felt her lingering gaze, but he didn’t acknowledge it. Who was this man? And how did someone who looked as though he was under thirty, and had probably served in some branch of the military, afford a two-million-dollar apartment in the heart of Manhattan? Quinn supposed he could be a trust-fund kid, like she was, but he didn’t appear to fit that bill either.

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  Summer

  Liv raised her arms and swayed as the warm breeze of the Colorado night danced and swirled around her.

  Sitting in the sixth row of the outdoor amphitheater, she closed her eyes and sang along, as the opening band played her favorite song.

  She didn’t remember how she found them, or the first time she listened to their music, but this was the first time she saw them perform live.

  I don’t wanna play it cool

  Act like meeting you

  Ain’t got me all jumbled up inside.

  I don’t want to play along,

  Dance with you for just one song,

  Then politely step aside.

  Let’s don’t let go of this

  No, let’s don’t let this go.

  I don’t wanna move too fast

  If I let this moment pass

  May never get the chance again.

  Tomorrow I will either be

  Tangled up in you and me

  Or lost in thoughts of what could have been.

  “Open your eyes,” her best friend, Paige, whispered. “He’s singing to you.”

  When Liv opened her eyes, CB, the lead singer of the band CB Rice, was looking right at her. When she smiled, he nodded and smiled too.

  “Oh my God,” Liv’s daughter, Renie, giggled. “Look, Blythe.” Renie nudged her best friend.

  “How embarrassing,” Blythe murmured.

  “Ow! Jeez, Mom. Why’d you hit me?”

  “Let Liv enjoy this moment, and don’t be such a brat, Blythe.”

  The people behind them leaned forward. “Shh…”

  Blythe turned around. “You want us to be quiet during a rock concert? Seriously?”

  Paige swatted her again.

  “Ow, Mom. Stop hitting me!”

  “Shh…” whispered Liv, wanting to hear nothing but CB’s voice singing her favorite song.

  In my mind I’ve already let this go too far

  Saying goodbye tonight

  Would be just
like a broken heart.

  Let’s don’t let go of this

  No, let’s don’t let this go.

  The song ended, and Liv wished she could hit replay, like she did so often when she listened to their music. It was as though the words of every song were written just for her. She’d never forget this night, finally having the chance to see them perform live.

  Since CB Rice was the opener for the opener for the headliner, their set was short. After six songs, CB thanked the bands that would come after them for inviting them on stage tonight.

  “Playing Red Rocks has always been our dream,” CB told the cheering audience.

  Every band she’d seen at the spectacular venue nestled into the mountains outside of Denver had expressed a similar sentiment.

  The natural rock formations created an open-air amphitheater with perfect acoustics. A large, tilted, disc-shaped rock formed a multi-story backdrop behind the stage, and a huge vertical rock angled outward from the right. Several more large outcrops angled outward from the left.

  From the stage, rows upon rows of wooden benches led up to a vast and open view of the starry Rocky Mountain nights.

  “Ready for a beer?” Paige asked.

  “Sure. Why not?” Liv smiled. She’d insisted they rush to their seats when they arrived, so she didn’t miss a single minute of CB Rice on stage.

  “We’re going to look at merch,” Renie told her mother, pulling a pouting Blythe behind her.

  “All the years they’ve been friends, you’d think Renie’s personality would’ve rubbed off, at least a little, on my daughter.”

  “She’s fine,” Liv answered.

  She hummed the last song the band played, wishing again she could hear it one more time.

  “You should get a t-shirt,” Paige teased.

  “Maybe I will.”

  Two beers and one of every t-shirt CB Rice was selling later, Liv and Paige returned to their seats just as the second band took the stage.

  Their seats were situated just outside the roped-off area, which was designated both for VIPs and for the sound equipment. When Renie came and sat beside her, Liv leaned against her daughter.

  “Having fun?” Renie asked.

  “Thank you for doing this,” Liv answered.

  “I know how much you like Red Rocks, and with three of your favorite bands playing, it seemed like the perfect way to end our summer.”

  Her daughter was a pre-med major at Dartmouth, and would be returning to school next week.

  “I miss you already, sweetheart.”

  The second band began to play, and soon everyone in the ten-thousand-person audience was on their feet, dancing and singing along.

  “Look.” Renie pointed to Liv’s left.

  She looked up at the large rock formation, expecting to see something projected on it. “What?”

  “Not up there. There.” Renie pointed again to the VIP area, where CB and his band were seated.

  When Liv looked over, CB was looking right at her, just like he had been while onstage. Warmth traveled up her cheeks, and she looked away. A few minutes later, she looked back. His eyes still rested on her; this time he smiled and winked.

  “Hey, you.” Paige smiled when Liv scooted closer, putting Renie and Blythe between her and the ropes.

  “Mom’s hiding from CB Rice.”

  Paige leaned back.

  “Don’t look,” Liv gasped.

  “Why not?”

  “He’s been staring at her all night,” Blythe groaned.

  “Shh…” the people behind them whispered again, which only made Liv and Paige giggle.

  When the second band’s set ended, Liv sneaked a peek at the VIP area, disappointed that she didn’t see any members of CB Rice.

  “You were ignoring him, so he went home,” Renie smirked.

  Liv rolled her eyes.

  Soon, the third band took the stage, and the audience went wild. Liv forgot all about CB and his band as she danced and sang along for the rest of the two-hour show.

  Too soon it seemed, the band played their encore, and the audience slowly began making their way to the exits.

  “Wait,” Liv heard someone yell.

  “Mom, stop.”

  When Liv turned around, CB was standing right behind her.

  He smiled. “Hi.”

  “Uh, hi.”

  “What’s your name?”

  Liv looked around. “Me?”

  CB laughed. “Yeah, you.”

  “Liv,” she answered, and then turned back around. “And this is my friend, Paige, my daughter, Renie, and Paige’s daughter, Blythe.”

  He bent to see around Liv. “I’m Ben Rice. Nice to meet you.” He waved, and then rested his gaze back on her. “Thanks for coming to the show tonight, Liv.”

  “You’re welcome. Um…well…nice to meet you, um…Ben” Liv pushed past Paige. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Paige waved and followed Liv, who was already beyond the end of the row, near the exit.

  “What has gotten into you?” Paige asked when they got in the car.

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “You weren’t very polite to him, Mom.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He was flirting with you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Liv murmured and turned up the volume on the stereo.

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