I decided to embrace my growing crush on Spencer Colebank. I knew it wasn’t going to lead anywhere, so why not enjoy the moments we had? There would be time enough for regret after I left Atlanta for good.
Chapter Eight
Spencer
My morning started out great, due to my excitement about having lunch with Melanie. I was in a great mood until I stepped from the elevator. Petro greeted me with a creased brow and a cup of coffee.
“Mr. Colebank wants to see you right away—and be warned—he’s already chewed the heads off his assistant and some guy in marketing.”
This he had whispered as he handed me the coffee and took my briefcase. I didn’t even make it to my office but headed straight for my uncle’s. It was more of a suite than an office, taking up one whole side of the building. He had his own bathroom, a lounge area, his workspace, and a conference area, complete with several monitors and video screens. There was even a small putting green off to the side where he could practice his shots.
His assistant, Amara Gabriel, barely acknowledged me, staring at her computer screen and tossing a nod my way. I could hear through the open door that Uncle John was on the phone, and it didn’t sound like a pleasant conversation.
“I’ll be there. No. Don’t reschedule, it’s too risky. Gives them the upper hand. If you hear any more, call me right away.”
He punched the end call button and tossed his cell phone on the desk. He turned to face me, his blue eyes glinting with the fire of anger. Whatever it was had pissed him off royally.
“Bad news?”
He huffed, running a hand through his silver hair. He reminded me so much of his son, Gibson, when he was agitated. They had the same mannerisms when they were upset.
“The resort deal we were negotiating in Belize is falling through. Apparently, the wife of one of the partners is not on board with the sale and has talked a few others to her side. They have to have a majority to approve. There’s a few other snags, so I’m going down there tomorrow.”
He was pacing, clearly embroiled in this issue. Belize was one of his favorite locations, so I wasn’t surprised he’d decided to step in. He’d probably take Aunt Angela and make a trip of it.
“I’ll keep an eye on things here, Uncle. No worries.”
He picked up a brochure from his desk and handed it to me.
“No, you won’t. I need you to go to this conference. I was going to attend, and Gibson can’t go in my place, either. He’s got a building deadline, and the baby’s not feeling well.”
I glanced at the brochure. It was some kind of summit meeting of the heads of our industry, a vacation rental and resort developer gathering to discuss trends and challenges. Uncle John usually ate this stuff up, so I wondered why he was bailing to handle a job he usually sent Gibson or myself to take care of.
When I saw the dates of the conference I nearly choked.
“This starts on Friday and goes through the weekend.”
The weekend I was hoping to spend with Melanie. We had so little time left as it was. To sacrifice three days was not at all what I had in mind. But that wouldn’t be enough of an excuse to get me out of this.
“You have plans, Spencer?”
Making love to a certain hot-blooded brunette with the voice of an angel gone bad…
“No, sir.”
“Good. I’ll expect a full report when you return. I should be back on Monday, if all goes well.”
I left his office with a smile that hid my disappointment. Isn’t that what I always do?
My coffee had gone cold and so had my disposition. I spent the next three hours wrapping up as many loose ends as I could and rearranging my schedule to accommodate the trip. Petro made my travel arrangements, first class flight to Las Vegas. He handed me my itinerary with a grimace.
“Maybe someday I’ll get to go to some big fancy meeting. Drink champagne, fly first class, have people hanging on every word of my important speech.”
He held himself up like he was on a podium, his expression regal.
“Come back to reality, dude. It’s not as exciting as you think.”
“Aww. Let me dream.”
“It’s more like falling asleep as you listen to speech after speech, everyone talking about what should be done without a plan to actually do it. I’ve been to a few of these, and it’s not as productive as one would hope.”
Normally, I wouldn’t mind the trip. It’d be a change of pace. But this was bad timing.
“Hmmm. Well, I’d still like a chance to be that bored.”
Petro left with his usual flair. The guy definitely had charisma, charming everyone, including my uncle. He was by far the best assistant I’d ever had, and over time we had developed a camaraderie. He’d handle things well while Uncle John and I were out of town.
At noon I left the building and headed to the location Melanie had texted. It was a small park in the town of Kennesaw, just above Marietta and definitely “outside the perimeter.” Atlanta was divided geographically by its freeways and what was considered Atlanta proper was inside the circle of Interstate 285. Everything outside that circle was out of the perimeter and sometimes seemed like a world away.
The traffic on I-75 Northbound wasn’t bad, and I made it to the park a few minutes after our agreed upon time. I parked in the lot adjacent to a picnic pavilion and saw Melanie sitting on top of one of the picnic benches. Several food trucks were parked nearby, emitting savory aromas.
I walked to her, not saying a word, and pulled her into my arms. My greeting was a passionate kiss. She didn’t hold back, kissing me with fierce abandon. My head swam with heat flooding my veins. I was lost in the sensation of her lips on mine, her breasts pushing against my chest. I should have been concerned with onlookers, but right then I didn’t give a damn.
When she pulled back, I looked into her dark eyes and then at her luscious pink lips. She smiled seductively and greeted me.
“Hello there.”
“Hello, love.”
A pink shimmer touched her cheeks briefly and was gone. She pulled from my embrace to stand.
“C’mon, I’m starving. Pick a truck, any truck.”
I chose a Vietnamese Bahn Mi and she had street tacos. We ate at one of the tables, drinking wine she’d brought. The libation had relaxed me, but I still hated to tell her I had to leave town for the weekend. I decided to wait until we were parting. I didn’t want to ruin the good mood she seemed to be in.
After we ate, I put on my gym shoes as she had requested, and we walked through the park. I let her lead the way and the conversation.
“I’ve been coming to this park since I moved here, years ago. It’s a peaceful retreat in the middle of suburbia. Plus, I walk dogs for people, and they love to run here.”
I nodded, looking around at the people and scenery. Kids were playing on some swings, teens were hanging out on benches. A dog barked, chasing a ball thrown by his owner. Typical summer day in Georgia.
“Yes, it is peaceful. Are we just walking off the food, or did you have destination in mind?”
“I do. Just over there.”
She pointed to a large oak tree, surrounded by a small wire fence. The trunk of it was multicolored from graffiti, covering nearly every inch. I had no idea what made that tree so special they had to cordon it off.
“We’re going to jump the fence?”
She laughed, veering toward another nearby tree.
“No. Well, maybe later. We’re sitting over here.”
She’d tucked a blanket under her arm, and I’d carried the tote bag she brought filled with wine and some other snacks. I also saw a notebook shoved in the bag. She set everything down, and in minutes, we had a comfortable seat in the shade of the old oak. Melanie unpacked the bag and opened a box of cookies.
“I brought dessert.”
She offered me the opened box. I took one, munching as I kicked off my gym shoes and sat back against the tree. I sighed, breathing in the aroma of freshly mown grass. The pasto
ral scene was pleasant, but it was my companion who held my attention.
“So, you said in your text you had finished the song. I’d love to hear it.”
She wiped the cookie crumbs from her lips and picked up the wine bottle. She poured two cups and handed me one. Then she lifted her red plastic cup in salute.
“I did. Here’s to our future hit single.”
I took the cup and touched it to hers.
“Platinum albums, sold out shows, a reality program… Why stop at one hit single?”
Her wry smile told me she appreciated the sentiment. Then she set her cup aside and picked up her phone. She sat close to me against the tree so we could both watch her video.
It was the first time I’d watched an entire performance of her with her guitar and no band. It was a softer, more poignant sound. On stage at the bar, she’d been commanding, sexy, and fun. This version of Melanie was also captivating but in a different way.
When the song ended, I was at a loss for words. She looked up at me with hopeful brown eyes. My answer was honest.
“Even better than I could imagine. Fantastic.”
“Thank you.”
She leaned into me, smiling. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, and she lay her head against my chest. I wanted to stay there, just like that, for the rest of the day.
Maybe even the rest of my life.
* * *
Melanie
I knew the song had turned out better than any I’d ever written, but I wondered if Spencer was merely placating me or if he truly liked it. We sat under the oak tree for nearly an hour, discussing the finer points of the lyrics and the way the music might sound with a band or even an orchestra. I was becoming excited, and for me, that usually meant something was bound to go wrong.
Maybe it was the wine affecting me but I was compelled to know the truth. I couldn’t take another disappointment. If I had a dollar for every time someone told me I was the Next Big Thing, I’d be as rich as the Colebanks.
Unsurprisingly, we ended up kissing more than talking business. This infatuation with him was going to be my ruin, but it was difficult to focus on anything else when his lips were tenderly brushing my neck.
I pulled away and sat up, kneeling on the blanket.
“Spencer, I want you to be honest with me. No song is ever right the first time. Surely it needs work.”
His hazel brown eyes glowed a honey color in the sunlight that filtered down through the leaves. He looked hurt for a second, and then his face went serious. Even his frown was adorable.
“I know that. But the song itself is great. Your voice really suits it perfectly. And I’m not just saying that because we’re dating. I mean it, in a professional sense.”
He seemed sincere. We wrote a good song. It was fun. I knew I should let it go at that and get on with my life, but that shy little girl who still lived deep inside me wanted to try, just one more time.
“Okay. I might regret this, but do you really think your producer friend might like it?”
He reached into his pocket for his phone.
“Only one way to tell.”
He left a message, but Daris called him right back. He must have been screening the call. Spencer put it on speaker so I could hear.
“Daris, my man. It was so great to see you the other night, and I wanted to take you up on that offer about jamming at your studio.”
“Hey, man. It was great to see you too. What’s this about you talking to my mamma?”
Spencer rolled his eyes, but the set of his mouth indicated some tension. I wondered if there was another story about him and Daris, but it was not my business. He answered with a shrug.
“Yeah, she and your dad came in to see Uncle John. I almost didn’t recognize them since it’s been a long time. Like, ten years or more?”
“They don’t get into town much, so yeah, that could be. They travel a lot.”
They chatted a minute about their families, and then Spencer asked about setting up studio time. He didn’t look pleased when Daris answered.
“I can do it this weekend, maybe. I’ll be in London next week and Milan after that.”
“Damn. This weekend won’t work, D. Well, hang on a sec.”
He covered the phone with a hand and looked at me. I had things planned, too, but this might be a once in a lifetime opportunity, so I’d already decided to give it a shot. Nothing may come of it, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.
“Melanie, can you make it this weekend? I’ll have to rearrange some things.”
“As will I, but yes. I can make it.”
He took his hand from the phone. His brow was creased but the excitement in his voice was evident.
“We can make this weekend work. When?”
Daris agreed to meet us Saturday night at seven. He’d have an engineer there to record our session and if we finished early enough, we’d all go out to a club to celebrate. When Spencer hung up, I threw my arms around his neck, unable to contain my joy.
“Thank you so much. This will be so cool. I haven’t been in a studio in years.”
The phone fell into the grass as we kissed. He pulled me down so that I leaned across his lap, no longer on my knees. His mouth thoroughly claimed mine, and I wanted to remain there the rest of day, holding him.
I even entertained the notion of staying like that forever, but only for a moment. Such ideas were for long-term relationships, and as intoxicating as this thing with Spencer was, it had an expiration date.
* * *
Spencer
I was beginning to think I was losing my mind. Or perhaps I’d caught some virus that made one go temporarily insane. Either way, I was about to do some things I never thought I’d do. Me, the guy who rarely took risks, who did what was expected of him, was about to take a flying leap into the unknown.
My body had risen to the occasion, as it were, and was clearly in charge now. My rational, logical mind had given up due to the barrage of hormones flooding my system. Melanie was in my arms and making sweet little moaning noises as she kissed me, and she had wrecked my defenses.
This situation had spiraled out of control—I wanted nothing more than to spend every waking minute with her. I’d just made the decision to blow off my uncle’s orders to make sure she got her shot at stardom. Because my own priorities had aligned with hers the minute I’d looked into those deep brown eyes and saw her desire.
“Melanie…” I murmured between hot kisses. “I have to get back to work.”
She ended our kiss on a sigh and sat up on the blanket, just out of reach.
“I know.”
I picked up my gym shoes and put them on. She began to gather her things and place them in her tote bag. We stood and rolled up the blanket, and she set it next to her bag under the tree. Then she took my hand.
“Where are we going?”
She was leading me away, toward the tree with all the markings on it.
“To visit the Love or Money Tree.”
“I didn’t know it had a name.”
When we reached the short metal fence surrounding the tree, she glanced around to be sure no one was watching and then stepped over. I followed, feeling silly for worrying about trespassing. The “Keep Out” signs didn’t look too forbidding.
Melanie must have read my thoughts.
“Sacha told me about this tree. The park service put this fence and the signs up to deter people, but it doesn’t, really. The legend is too strong.”
“And what legend is that?”
She stood before the tree, caressing the bark, tracing the myriad of initials and symbols carved or drawn on it. She pulled a marker from her pocket and turned to me with a smile.
“Legend has it, that if you draw or carve a heart on the tree, your true love will soon appear. Or if you draw a money symbol, you’ll be blessed with riches in some way.”
“That explains all the dollar signs. And hearts.”
The tree was indeed covered with them, in all sizes an
d colors. Initials, names, and other graffiti covered it as well. I wouldn’t want to carve on it, but now I understood why Melanie had a marker in her hand, searching for a spot to write. She knelt on the far side of the tree and beckoned me.
“Here’s a spot.”
I stood over her shoulder, watching as she drew a large heart in black ink and placed the most well-known musical symbol, a treble clef, inside the heart.
I wasn’t sure whether to be amused, elated, or disappointed. I guess I felt a mix of all three. She stood up, admiring her artwork.
“Either your true love is music, or you want to marry a musician.”
She gave me the side-eye and then smacked my arm. “Maybe it’s both. Or neither.”
I held out my hand, palm up. She smiled and placed the marker in my hand. I leaned forward and, at the bottom of her heart, drew a dollar sign. It was touching the heart so that it became a part of her design. I popped the cap back on the marker and held it out to her.
“Love, money, and music. They make the world go ’round.”
She stuck the marker in her pocket and leaned against me. “Yes, they do. May we find all three in abundance.”
As far as I was concerned, at that moment I had all three. I’d had music and money for most of my life, but love had been the elusive part. I knew things were not set with Melanie, but it sure would be awesome if there was a way.
She didn’t hesitate when I pulled her into my arms for another kiss. The emotion of the moment we’d just shared, and the hope it signified, caused my desire for her to once again spiral out of control. I ran my hands over her back, down her hips, and cupped her bottom through her jeans. She squirmed and made a throaty noise but didn’t move away.
My erection had returned, and this time it wasn’t playing games. This was becoming urgent, this need to explore, taste, and devour every inch of her. I broke our deep kiss to take a breath, and she pulled away. I kept her from moving too far with my hands on her arms, and she splayed her fingers across my chest. We were both breathing heavily, and the heat shimmering between us was palpable.
Not So Wrong: Love Grows series, Book Two Page 9