The Executive

by Kimberley Montpetit

  “No, not at all. I just—just remembering the days of high school and endless homework.”

  Over the next ten minutes, they were joined by Ryan and Brandon, whom Kira had served at Rossi’s a week ago. They all introduced themselves again, including two other married couples who came in a little late and took the last four chairs.

  “Adam graduated a year later than we did, right?” Kira asked, remembering him saying that two weeks ago at Rossi’s.

  Caleb smiled. “He kept threatening to crash our party, but we tied him up at the office.”

  “I helped,” Troy added, and Kira burst into a giggle.

  “Hey, we have questionnaires to fill out,” she said, pulling out a paper from under her salad plate while the emcee grabbed the microphone to welcome everyone.

  A small basket of pencils was in the center of each table, and Caleb handed her one with a quiet smile. Kira perused the list of questions and scribbled down her answers. There were questions about whether they were married, how many children, who had traveled the furthest to attend, what their careers were, college, etc. The Senior Class committee was going to compile the answers by the end of the evening for awards.

  During their salads, the guys of DREAMS exchanged talk about girls they’d known back in high school and were sad to see that none of them were there that night.

  “We call them, ‘the girls who got away’,” Brandon said, dousing his salad with blue cheese dressing.

  “Tell me about these mysterious girls. Who are they?” Kira asked. “Would I know them?”

  Both Brandon and Ryan blushed. “Just girls we always liked in high school, but who never gave us the time of day.”

  Kira stared at each of them in turn. “You were hoping to reconnect tonight?”

  Ryan smiled sheepishly. “Sort of.”

  “About a year ago we made a pact to find them,” Troy added. “It’s a long shot, but why not give it the old college try—I mean high school?”

  “Touché,” Kira said with a quick laugh. “I hope you find them. It can be hard wondering what might have been.” Of course, she was only thinking about her father and what might have been. Especially the piano career that would never be. Her time was gone, over, and a small knot of emotion rose in her chest.

  Next to her, Caleb focused on slathering a piece of French bread with butter. He passed the basket to her, and she took a roll, trying to catch his eye, but he wouldn’t meet hers.

  Another strange thought came to her. Was she the girl who got away? But that made no sense. They had never known each other at all.

  Troy knocked his knife against his plate, as though trying to catch Kira’s attention. She glanced at him, a question in her eyes.

  Troy nodded between her and the rest of them, wagging his eyebrows meaningfully.

  “But I didn’t know you guys,” she protested. “I can’t be one of your girls who got away.”

  “Maybe it was the girl you wanted to get to know and never had the chance,” Ryan suggested.

  “Hm, okay.” She set down her salad fork, and a waiter came by with more ice water and pitchers of icy lemonade. There was a no-host bar, but she noticed that none of the DREAMS men were drinking.

  With all the loud conversation in the ballroom, Kira couldn’t hear a single thing the two couples were saying across the table, but they often pointed out old friends and waved to other tables while they talked amongst themselves.

  “I knew who you were, Mister Football Half-back Troy,” Kira said, “But I never met you, Caleb.”

  He glanced at her. “We met, you just don’t remember.”

  “I think I’d remember, Caleb Davenport,” she admitted quietly.

  “That’s nice to know.”

  “I dug out my old yearbook,” she added.

  Caleb laughed. “So you were snooping?”

  “Aha!” Kira said triumphantly. “I knew it. You are an imposter. You guys are all having fun with me, right? You were just having dinner at Rossi’s and decided to play a trick on me. You never went to Southfield High. Although there is a guy named Caleb Davenport in the Senior Class. You’re pretending to be him, right?”

  Shaking his head, Caleb gave her a quiet smile. “That’s quite a theory, Miss Kira Bancroft. There’s a gallery of the entire class—all of our pictures ten years ago and today. Over by the photo booth.”

  Ryan piped up, “It’s our senior pictures in alphabetical order. We’re supposed to do a game after dinner matching everyone up.”

  “I think I still had braces in my picture,” Brandon said. “I stuck my yearbooks in a box and forgot about them. Unfortunately, I had a jaw alignment issue and had to have surgery. Braces lasted almost four years, of course, that had to be during high school. Lucky me.”

  “You have perfect teeth now, Brandon,” Kira told him with a motherly sort of smile.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  They laughed, and the first course was served.

  “Let’s check out our pictures after dessert,” Troy suggested.

  “You’re on,” Kira agreed. Half an hour later, she was so stuffed with the fancy dinner and cheesecake, it was hard to rise from the table. “That’s the most I’ve eaten in one sitting in a long time.”

  “If Ryan had his way, he’d start dinner all over again,” Caleb said in her ear as he guided her through the crowd toward the photo gallery, his hand on her back so she wouldn’t get jostled, or separated from him. Kira loved how protective he was, how courteous and thoughtful.

  Troy, Brandon, and Ryan followed close behind. The photo gallery was packed with people, and the band was playing up-tempo dance music, including a smattering of slow, romantic ballads.

  Couples were already out there. One couple moved so effortlessly across the dance floor they looked like professional ballroom dancers. Gliding across the polished wood floor, heads up, steps in perfect synchronization.

  Despite herself, music always filled her up, reaching deep into her gut and rising through her chest to her heart. The band played a combination of Top 100 from their high school days. Pop, rock, country, jazz, and techno, but Kira missed her favorite grand orchestral music taking over all of her senses. Music that made her forget about her family’s problems, her eviction notice, and her robotic job.

  “Sometimes I miss the Steinway grand pianos at Juilliard so bad I want to cry,” she murmured, her thoughts spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

  But Caleb had heard her. “I remember that you played the piano. You went away to school and majored in music, correct? New York . . . That’s what you were referring to. Juilliard, I’ll bet?”

  “You did your homework well,” she said, still not sure if he was the real Caleb Davenport.

  “What do you mean homework?” He looked puzzled.

  “Come on, you can spill it, you’re not really Caleb Davenport, are you? Just tell me the truth so we can move forward.” Even so, tiny doubts went through her mind. Why would he have the name Caleb Davenport on his business card for DREAMS? Of course, he could have the same name and have grown up in Idaho for all she knew.

  Disappointment flashed across his face again and Kira wondered if she was hurting his feelings. “Okay,” she stated firmly. “Troy, Brandon, Ryan—I want you to pick out Caleb’s picture without searching for or reading his name. Just look from twenty feet away and go straight to it.”

  “Easy,” Troy said, walking at a diagonal through the crowd to stick his finger on one of the male photos. “Here he is, good old Caleb. Oh, yeah, those were the days,” he added with amusement.

  A funny feeling ran up Kira’s neck when she recognized the same picture she’d seen in her yearbook inside her parent’s shed. The geeky guy with bad hair and severe acne. Troy had gone straight to it.

  “Of course, you could have looked at the yearbook before you came tonight just to keep up the charade,” she accused. Even so, she was starting to feel a little silly now.

  Crouching down, she studied
the blown-up photo. The shape of the face, the chin, the nose. She glanced backward at Caleb standing behind her about five feet away, watching her. His face was impassive, but his eyes filled with an expression of certain longing to be close to her.

  The emcee got up and started jabbering into the microphone, and Caleb turned in his direction.

  When she caught his profile, Kira could finally see the same nose—more perfectly formed with ten years of maturity. The same cut of his jawline, and yes even those piercing, devastating blue eyes might just be the same ones—if she strained to see behind the curtain of unkempt hair in the school photo.

  It seemed her accusations had been wrong all along.

  When Caleb pivoted back toward her, the bass guitar player thumbed his instrument, and the drummer crashed his symbols. At that moment, the CEO of DREAMS smiled at her, a flicker of amusement crossing his lips. His eyes held hers tight, and then, all at once, he was in front of her, brushing a stray curl from her eyes.

  “May I have this dance, Miss Kira Bancroft?”

  She nodded, biting at her lower lip. Caleb's eyes flickered down to her mouth and then up into her eyes as he circled her waist with his arm and pulled her onto the dance floor.

  Chapter 12

  They were the perfect height together, Kira thought as Caleb’s left hand caught hers and enfolded it close to his chest while he moved with her across the floor in a slow Foxtrot. As they weaved in and around the other couples, Kira was sure she was on fire, electrified by Caleb’s presence so close to her.

  She was aware of his broad shoulders, the crease in his suit coat under her hand. The warmth of his hand along her back as he guided her. His breath warm and spicy on her cheek as he pulled her a little closer so as not to bump into the fancy couple who acted as though they owned the dance floor.

  To be so intimately aware of this man exhilarated Kira and scared her.

  “You’re really Caleb Davenport? Class of 2007?”

  His face angled toward hers, his lips twitching. “Yep, the one and only. Computer geek. Juvenile delinquent. Social outcast in ripped jeans who didn’t use a comb.”

  “You’re exaggerating. If you were such a scary guy, then why don’t I remember you?”

  “Better haircuts. A dermatologist. Growing another four inches. Every little bit helps. But you look prettier than ever. Gorgeous, in fact.”

  “Don’t give me a big head, Mr. Davenport,” Kira chided, trying not to sound prim or coy.

  “Actually, I’m glad you don’t remember me. I would have given you nightmares. But I must confess that I was very aware of you. In fact, I had a crush on you. A major crush.”

  Kira tried not to blush furiously. It was strange to think of him watching her, crushing on her all those years ago and she wasn’t the least bit aware.

  “I attended your choir performances, including the Madrigal Christmas concert our senior year.”

  “You did?” Kira took a step backward in surprise. She hid a smile of pleasure when he pulled her close again, his cheek against her hair. “I would have noticed you. It was always a smaller concert than the big choir ones in the gymnasium.”

  “I sat in the back, and it was dark. I think you guys had set up candles or something. Plus, I left as soon as it was over.” he conceded. “I couldn’t give myself away. But I’d never heard someone play the piano like that before. You were incredible. Why aren’t you on stage now enjoying standing ovations in every big city across the country?”

  Tight emotion grabbed at Kira’s throat. “My dad—he had a bad accident two years ago. I didn’t finish my degree.”

  Caleb’s arms tightened, and she was highly aware of his large hands encircling her waist. If he kept that up, Kira thought she might get close to swooning, but she tried to maintain her composure. When their heads turned to speak past the band’s volume, his lips were close to her own, and she found herself glancing down at his mouth constantly.

  She noticed that he was looking at her lips, too, but they barely knew each other. She needed to get a grip on her feelings.

  “I’m so sorry about your father, Kira, I didn’t realize that. Are your parents still in Denver? Has your father recovered?”

  “Medical expenses put them into bankruptcy. They sold the house I grew up in.”

  “Wow, that’s terrible.”

  “Disability doesn’t go too far, but you don’t want to hear all this.”

  “Yes, I do. It sounds like your family has been living a nightmare. How is your father now? Tell me.”

  Kira took a breath and felt Caleb’s hand squeeze hers in support. “He was in a coma the first month, had multiple surgeries, and now lives in a wheelchair.”

  Caleb’s brow furrowed in concern and shock. “Dear God, Kira, that’s worse than I thought.”

  “Hey,” she said weakly. “It’s supposed to be a party, and I’m spoiling all the fun. If you want to dance with the other girls from our class, go right ahead. I’m not going to monopolize your time.”

  “I only came because I wanted to spend time with you.”

  “You’re too flattering.”

  “It’s the truth, Your Honor. The whole truth and nothing but the truth,” he added with a grin.

  The music stopped and yet, Caleb’s arms hadn’t dropped from around her shoulders, his hand still gripped in hers. She smiled in return. “Don’t tell me you’re a secret lawyer, too? You must have an I.Q. off the charts.”

  “No law school, but after five years owning your own business, you learn a lot. And no, I’m not a member of Mensa. You have to have an I.Q. of at least 144, and I only hit 135.”

  That made Kira laugh, and she punched him lightly in the arm. “You are such a tease.”

  The next song began and Caleb’s hand slid down Kira’s arm, so warm and tender she wanted to melt like butter in a puddle at his feet. Or were all these feelings and attraction just because she hadn’t had a date in a year?

  “Can we go outside for a moment?” Caleb asked suddenly, slipping his fingers into hers and tugging her close to his side.

  “Sure, but why?”

  “There’s something I need to tell you, and it’s too noisy in here.”

  Kira was so surprised she wasn’t sure what to say. “Alright.”

  “Don’t worry; we’ll be back before the awards ceremony. Besides, we need to get our picture taken.”

  “That’ll be a first for me. I never made it to Senior Prom. Graduated early.”

  “Me, too. I mean, I graduated early and didn’t go to Senior Prom either. No girl would be seen with me. I think I got the Ugliest Senior Award.” He snorted, attempting to make light of it all. “I was a rebel and thought that rebelling was the method to fight against the establishment. Only problem is, by not showering and wearing three-day-old clothes you alienate just about everyone, and that does nothing to serve your cause.”

  “Aw, come on, that’s not true,” she protested.

  “You must not have looked too closely at my senior picture.”

  “I did. Your mother must have made you wash your hair just for picture day,” she teased.

  He shook his head. “Are you kidding? It was my school counselor who told me I’d regret it if I blew it off. I’m still not sure if she was right or not.”

  Caleb laughed at himself, but Kira went perfectly still, gazing at him with new eyes. His self-deprecation was tinged with an undercurrent of anger. Where had his parents been? Didn’t they care about school pictures and activities and his happiness?

  Before Kira could respond, Caleb had grasped her hand and, without skipping a beat, he led her through the double doors and back into the open foyer. Once they were out of the ballroom, the music faded. The hotel halls were muted, the carpet soft under their shoes.

  “I feel like we’re ditching class,” Kira said, smiling as they ran lightly down the hall. She picked up her skirts and was thankful her heels weren’t too wobbly.

  “I like ditching with you,” Caleb
said with a quirky grin.

  This Caleb was definitely a different person from the boy in the senior photograph. He spoke about himself in a light-hearted and teasing way. He was straightforward and unassuming—and the most gorgeous man in the room now.

  After running down a couple of hallways, Caleb finally pushed through a pair of outer doors, and a moment later, they were standing in a garden patio.

  Twinkling stars sparkled overhead, the night sky black as ink, and the air crisp and fresh after the heat of dancing. The last of the flower beds on the patio were shriveling up, but still gave off a hint of perfume. The first snowfall was definitely in the air as if the distant mountains were warning them of the coming winter.

  “Oh,” Kira breathed. “What a beautiful night.”

  Caleb nodded, but he wasn’t gazing star-struck at the heavens. Instead, when Kira lowered her chin, she found he was staring at her.

  “You’re making me self-conscious,” Kira admitted, very much aware that he was still holding her hand.

  She glanced down, her stomach doing little jumps into her throat.

  “I can’t believe I’m actually holding the hand of Kira Bancroft,” Caleb said softly, lifting her hand to caress it against his face.

  She stared at him, trying to puzzle him out. “We didn’t know each other ten years ago.”

  “I still remember that you played “O Holy Night,” for your piano solo during the Christmas performance.”

  “I can’t believe you remember that!” She studied his handsome face, and then took one tiny step closer. Dancing with him had been a heady experience, and she wanted more, but they had barely met.

  Except, she reminded herself, she’d spent an entire two hours waitressing their table a week ago. And she’d spent time studying his bio and profile on the DREAMS website. “Maybe you really are the true Caleb Davenport, class of 2007.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” he said, his smile growing.

  “You’re like a kid.”

  “Holding your hand—dancing with you—I feel like a teenager again,” he admitted. “Doing all the things I never got to when I was seventeen.”