Текст книги "Desperate Chances "

Автор книги: A. Meredith Walters

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“Yeah, it did. I guess we both had stuff that we wanted to say, but that wasn’t the place to do it,” I agreed, clenching my hands together in my lap—the hands that he had so briefly held between his own.

“We used to talk about everything,” Mitch said quietly.

“And now we don’t talk about anything,” I continued just as quietly.

We were both silent, the only noise was that of the crackling fire and the soft strains of laughter drifting down from the house.

“I’ve tried really hard not to think about you,” Mitch admitted, his chin tucked into his chest.

“I understand—” I started to say, but he cut me off.

“I go about my day. I live my life. And I push you so far from my thoughts that it’s easy to forget what it’s like just being around you,” he went on. He tilted his head back to stare up at the clear night sky.

“But then when you’re around, I remember. And it hurts, Gracie. It hurts a lot.” Mitch’s voice cracked and he stopped speaking. I wondered if he was going to finish.

God, I wanted him to finish.

After a few minutes he lowered his head and finally looked at me. It was too dark to see much of his face, but I could see the fire glinting in his eyes and that was enough.

“I remember how much fun we always had. I remember how you’d kick my ass playing X-Box and then rub it in my face for a good three days afterwards.”

“Only because it was richly deserved,” I interjected.

Mitch sort of smiled. A slight lifting of lips that quickly fell again. “I remember Chunky Monkey and you sleeping in my bed even when I couldn’t touch you. Not like I wanted to. I remember how you’d listen to me play my music and you made sure to be right up front, so I could see you from the stage. That meant a lot, Gracie. I don’t think you realize how much.”

“It meant a lot to me too. I love hearing you play. I always have.”

Mitch’s lips thinned and he glanced down at the ground. “Yeah, I remember all that great stuff and I get angry, Gracie. Really fucking angry. And resentful as hell. Because we don’t have that anymore. I can’t pick up my phone and call you when shit goes down with the label. I can’t text you after a show and tell you how it went. I lost my best friend. And that pisses me off.”

“I’m sor—”

“Please don’t apologize. I know you’re sorry. It’s on your face every time I see you,” he laughed bitterly. “I know you regret what happened. God, if I could go back, I’d do things differently. Maybe I wouldn’t have opened that damn door at all.”

Ouch. Okay, that really hurt. Mitch knew how to play rough.

I opened my mouth to explain I didn’t regret being with him. That I could never regret that. I just regretted how I behaved afterwards. It was important that he knew that. I needed to say it and he needed to hear it. But he was still talking. And his next words shut me up.

“I’m with Sophie now. That’s what I should be focused on. I need to be thinking about what the hell I’m going to do if the band falls apart. I have to have a plan. I can’t go through life without one. I’ve been drifting by for long enough.” He ran his hands through his hair. “So I have some shit to sort out. And I can’t be all tied up in knots over you anymore. I can’t worry about what I’ll do if I see you. I can’t spend my nights obsessing over everything you say and don’t say. It’s not fair to Soph. It’s not fair to me. That can’t be my life anymore.”

“This is okay,” he continued. “Us talking and being somewhat normal together. We have to be. My friends are your friends. My town is your town. We’re going to see each other. It’s inevitable. And with Jordan and Maysie getting married, we’re going to be in each other’s lives in one way or another for the foreseeable future. But that’s it. We’ll be old friends that used to be close but have drifted apart.”

“If that’s what you need, Mitch. I understand,” I told him, my voice rough and crushed.

Mitch’s shoulders sagged and he gave me a look that broke my heart all over again. Because I had done this.

I had ruined so much more than I had ever realized.

“It’s the only way it can be, Gracie.” He let out a breath and turned toward Garrett’s house. “I’ll see you later.”

And then he was gone.

“I’ll see ya,” I murmured after he had left.

Day one of my new life.

Wake up.

Get a shower.

Get dressed.

Eat breakfast.

Sit at the kitchen table and try not bang my head against the wood over and over and over again.

It was really fucking boring.

“You’ve been staring at that newspaper for over an hour. Do the words change if you look at it long enough?” Garrett asked, pouring a cup of coffee. He was already dressed, which was surprising considering the guy typically didn’t get out of bed until midday.

“What are you doing up already?” I asked him.

“I’m heading up to see Riley, remember. I’ll be gone until next week.” He dumped three spoonfuls of sugar into his cup and stirred. “No crazy parties until I get back. You can’t have that shit going on unless I’m here to enjoy it.”

“Yes, Dad,” I said, pushing the paper away from me.

“What’s with all the early morning angst? Girl trouble? I saw you out by the bonfire with Gracie last night. Is that what’s gotten your panties all in a bunch? I sincerely hope you two ironed out all your shit. It’s been going on long enough, don’t you think?” Garrett sat down across from me and grabbed a donut from the box Maysie had brought over earlier. She had already been by with groceries. I think she thought that we were going to either starve or resort to cannibalism if she didn’t take care of us. Though I wasn’t going to say anything to the contrary, because I really hated going grocery shopping.

“No, this has nothing to do with Gracie,” I told him, proud of myself for saying her name without wanting to vomit.

Garrett raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing me.

“So I just imagined all that unresolved tension between the two of you last night?”

“Dude, I have a girlfriend,” I reminded him.

Maybe I needed the reminder too.

I really hated that stupid inner voice.

“Yeah, well perhaps that’s the problem,” Garrett remarked dryly. I did not want to talk about Gracie. I had dealt with that shit last night. I had been proud of how I handled things. I had laid it all out there. I had told Gracie that I didn’t want to ignore her. That I wasn’t going to avoid her the way I knew she had been avoiding me. I wanted to be civil. Mature even.

We’ll be old friends that used to be close but have drifted apart.

Just maybe I could force myself to believe it.

Because hell if I could face her apologies from here to freaking eternity. I’d had enough of those.

It’s what was best. For everyone. There was no future with Gracie.

Was there a future with Sophie?

I was trying to figure out the answer to that.

I was pretty sure I already knew.

“Are you going to be back in time for our call with Pirate on Friday? Or are you just going to conference in?” I asked him, ignoring his barb.

“No, I’ll be back for that,” he said grimly.

Neal had called yesterday as we were on our way back to Bakersville. He had already spoken with Tate and Danvers and they wanted to set up a conference call next week.

“They want to get everything out on the table. They’ve made some decisions that they want to talk to you about,” Neal had said. We pressed him about what those decisions were but he claimed he didn’t know.

I didn’t like being left hanging. None of us did.

“All of this is exhausting. I used to think there would be nothing better than landing a record deal and playing shows all the time. Now I realize how naïve I was. How naïve we all were. We were living in la-la land,” Garrett said, finishing off the donut.

“Yeah, well the real world sucks. I wanted to live a little while longer in la-la land,” I muttered, pulling the newspaper back towards me. I wasn’t sure what even the hell I was looking for. I poured over the want ads until my eyes hurt. There wasn’t really a job out there that was perfect for an “almost rock star.”

“I don’t know, man. Maybe it’s time we all grow up,” Garrett remarked off handedly.

I gave him a wry look. “You sound like your girlfriend.”

Garrett laughed. “Yeah, I guess I do. But it’s something to think about.”

I folded the paper and carried it over to the recycling bin, shoving it in. Garrett was right. We all had some thinking to do.

“Mitch!”

My mother held open the screen door and pulled me into a hug.

“Hey, Ma,” I said, my voice muffled by her shoulder.

Mom pulled back and gave me the maternal once over. “You need to shave. And a good haircut. Come sit down and I’ll grab my scissors. Your dad just stepped out to pick up some firewood. He’ll be back soon. Your sister isn’t here yet. She ran into traffic on 64.”

She ushered me into the kitchen and pushed me down into a chair. My mother wasn’t the sort to waste time on pleasantries. She’d have you in a chair with a plate full of food while sewing the hole in your shirt before you could even say hello.

For my entire life, my mother had been larger than life. She was the kind of woman that took her role as matriarch very seriously. “I was born to be a mother,” she liked to say and damned if she didn’t mean it.

And she didn’t think twice about welcoming anyone who needed a mother figure with open arms.

After Garrett’s parents’ died, he spent most evenings here, in this kitchen, as my mother fussed over him and made sure he was eating enough vegetables. Garrett loved my mother. She was one of the few people, aside from Riley, who could make the guy smile.

And when Cole’s parents had all but abandoned him, my mom picked up the slack, taking him care packages after he moved into his apartment and making sure he had warm socks and pillows for his bed. She took the man shopping for curtains, for Christ’s sake!

She was a sucker for an abandoned puppy. And Cole and Garrett were her favorite abandoned puppies.

“You should have invited the boys to come with you! I haven’t seen Cole, Garrett, or Jordan in so long! Is Jordan still with that lovely girl, Maysie?” she asked, wrapping a towel around my neck and picking up the scissors.

“He is. They’re getting married in August. So be on the look out for an invitation,” I told her, holding perfectly still as she snipped the long pieces of hair around my ears.

“Oh, a wedding! I can’t wait! I love weddings! I keep hoping your sister will finally find someone to settle down with, but I won’t hold my breath.” My thirty-year-old sister had incredibly bad luck when it came to men. Her high school boyfriend had turned out to be gay and her daughter’s dad, who she had been with for almost three years, had taken off the minute he found out she was pregnant. So now Charlotte was doing the single mom thing and I was pretty sure she wasn’t looking to put on a white dress and walk down the aisle any time soon.

Mom leaned down and peered into my face. “I guess I’ll just have to wait for you to settle down then. Though it won’t be the same when you get married. The mother of the groom doesn’t get to do anything fun,” she pouted good-naturedly. She pulled the hair on my forehead between her fingers and started to snip again. “So how is Sophie?” she asked, her voice deceptively light. I knew what she was doing. She was digging. And Mom was one hell of a digger.

“She’s fine,” I said shortly.

“Fine? That’s it? I ask you how your girlfriend is doing and all you can say is that she’s fine? Maybe you should bring her around for dinner again so I can see for myself how she’s doing.” She got out a brush and swept the back of my neck.

“I don’t know. I think she’s busy,” I replied dismissively.

Mom stilled, her hands coming to rest heavily on my shoulders. “Is there a reason we’ve only met this woman twice? Why won’t you bring her around? Are you embarrassed of us or something?” She sounded hurt and I felt horrible. It was so completely far from the truth.

“No, Mom! Of course I’m not embarrassed of you. All my friends love you and Dad. You know that Garrett and Cole would move in if you’d let them,” I told her, trying to make up for being such an insensitive prick.

“Then what’s going on? Why won’t you bring your girlfriend to see us? You used to bring Gracie around all the time. Is there something wrong with this Sophie that you don’t want me to know about?” she asked, sounding suspicious.

“Mom, Gracie was never my girlfriend,” I said tiredly.

“Humph. Sure could have fooled me with the way the two of you looked at each other,” she grumbled. There was no sense arguing with her. Mom lived by the adage, “Mother’s always right.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Sophie. She’s just really shy. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.” It was a lame excuse and not even an honest one.

I knew my mother would have Sophie relaxed and at ease in no time. It was her talent.

The truth was, I had no excuse. I just never thought about inviting Sophie to hang out with my family. The two times she had been to my parents’ house had been purely by accident. We had bumped into them at the store and had been promptly invited for dinner. Sophie hadn’t been overly enthused by the whole thing so I hadn’t bothered to bring her around again.

“She seems like a nice girl,” Mom commented hesitantly as though expecting me to disagree.

“Yeah, she’s a nice girl,” I said as she took the towel off my shoulders and handed me a mirror.

A nice girl.

Constant. Always there.

That’s what had been important.

“See how much better you look when people can actually see those gorgeous eyes of yours?” Mom cooed, kissing me on the cheek.

I got to my feet and wrapped my arms around her slight frame. “You’re the only woman I need in my life, Ma.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” she said with a laugh. “What will you do when I’m too old to make you your favorite chicken pot pie? Someone has to ensure you eat properly and have clean underwear on.”

“Mom. You haven’t checked my underwear since I was ten,” I protested.

“Um, why are we talking about Mitch’s underwear?” A woman who looked like an older, female version of me walked into the kitchen carrying a six-month-old baby who sported a head full of brown curls.

“There’s my favorite little girl,” Mom crowed with pleasure, holding out her arms so she could take the baby from my sister. Charlotte handed my niece, Madison, over to our mom and gave me a quick hug.

“Hey, baby brother. Long time no see. I got the package of baby stuff last month. Thank you so much. A gal can never have too many diapers and burp clothes. Though it would have been better to actually see you,” she said mildly, giving me her best glare.

“Yeah, if I could have gotten off the tour I would have in a fucking heartbeat,” I said.

“Watch your mouth around my granddaughter, Mitch Allen Abrams!” my mother scolded.

“Sorry, Ma,” I muttered. Charlotte smirked.

“So the tour was that bad? I thought you were going to be the next big rock star. You were supposed to be my ticket to the easy life, Mitchie. Way to crap on my dreams of swimmin’ pools and movie stars,” she kidded, sitting down at the kitchen table as Mom took the baby into the next room.

“Guess you’ll have to wait until those royalties kick in from being a pain in my ass.” Charlotte smacked the back of my head and I grinned at her.

“So how long are you home for?” she asked.

I picked at my thumbnail, dreading this part. Telling my family that the dream was most likely dead. And now I was stuck without a clue.

“Not sure. We have a call with the label next week.”

“You don’t sound too thrilled about that. What’s going on?” Charlotte was doing her big sister thing and being nosy. I knew she wasn’t trying to piss me off, but her questions still made me defensive.

“Does it matter? I don’t really want to talk about our shit tour and whether or not people are buying our music,” I snapped.

“Damn, Mitchie, are you on your man period or something?” Charlotte laughed, not bothered by my bad attitude.

“Whatever. How about we talk about the fact that somehow, someway, you and that loser Craig were able to procreate and make something that awesome.” I looked into the living room where Mom was playing with Maddy on the floor. Maddy was giggling and clapping her hands.

Charlotte’s face darkened at the mention of her ex. “Loser is right.”

“He still hasn’t seen Maddy?” I asked and Charlotte shook her head.

“Dad says I should go after him for child support, but part of me doesn’t want him to have any hold on her. Even though I could really use the extra cash, I don’t want to take it and have him decide in a year or two years that maybe he wants to be in her life. Then have her get all attached only to have him fuck off again when it suits him. He’s a flake. Always has been. I should have known he’d bail the moment things got tough. So let him be a deadbeat, she’s better off without him. We both are.” Charlotte said emphatically but I could see the pain in her eyes.

I squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Char. You both deserve better than that.”

Charlotte wiped her eyes and gave me a watery smile. “Yeah, well not all guys are selfish dicks. You wouldn’t punk out your own kid. Our parents raised you right.”

“Damn straight,” I agreed.

“You’ll be a great dad, Mitch. Your future kids will be lucky to have you.”

Shit, this was getting all mushy.

“You say that now. We’ll see how you feel when I take Maddy to her first heavy metal concert when she’s seven.”

Charlotte pursed her lips. “Over my dead body, kid.”

I patted her hand. “What you don’t know won’t hurt you.”

“Well, speaking of possible future kiddos, how is Gracie?” she asked and I blinked in confusion.

“Gracie?”

Charlotte gave me a funny look. “Uh, your girlfriend dumbass.”

My stomach heaved like it always did at the mention of her name. “Gracie was never my girlfriend,” I corrected her.

Now it was Charlotte’s turn to look confused. “Wait, Mom’s mentioned a girlfriend, I just assumed—”

“Sophie. Her name is Sophie,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Sophie? Why have I never heard of a Sophie? You used to bring Gracie around all the time. Why is there a Sophie now and not a Gracie?”

“Jeez, Char, we were only friends. Nothing else.” God, it seemed all I was doing lately was talk about Gracie Cook.

“Oh. I just thought—”

“You thought wrong, sis. So drop it,” I all but snarled.

“Touchy, touchy. Damn, Mitchie. Take my head off why don’t you?” My sister looked irritated.

“Sorry,” I muttered. Maddy’s giggles drifted in from the living room making us both smile. It was amazing how quickly we could get over our annoyance with each other. Babies were amazing things.

“How about we steal your daughter from Mom so she can have some cool Uncle Mitch time?” I suggested, getting to my feet.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “You’re changing the subject. I know you and you don’t want to talk about Gracie. Which means something juicy happened.”

“Dude, I’m going to hang out with my niece. She doesn’t grill me about things that are none of her business,” I said pointedly.

“I’ll get it out of you eventually. Remember the broken window? I got to the truth of that too,” Charlotte teased and I gave her a playful shove.

“Charlotte, I was ten. You threatened to eat all of the Oreos. I was weak. I think I can withstand whatever you want to dish out.”

Charlotte put her arm around my shoulders. “We’ll see, Mitchie.”

“Gracie, I just finished reading your latest piece,” my editor, Kate Powers, said over the phone.

I was in the middle of taking a drink of my tea but my hand stopped in mid-air, teacup poised in front of my mouth.

“Oh. You did?” I asked a little breathlessly. I had barely scrapped my article together. After the flat tire debacle and the crazy weekend in Norfolk I had been late in getting the piece to her. I figured this was the customary ass chewing phone call for not meeting my deadline.

I could hear Kate clicking her pen over and over again. I mostly worked remotely so I had only met Kate a handful of times. She was a little on the stessy side with mismatched earrings and chronic bed head. But she was tough and expected the best from her staff.

“How the hell you made that falling down estate sound interesting is beyond me. I’m more than a little impressed,” she said, still clicking her pen.

I put my teacup down and gripped the phone tightly in my hand. Wait…so she wasn’t chewing me out? “It was interesting? Really?” I squeaked.

“Well, as interesting as hedges and topiaries can be, but yes. I really liked how you interwove the owner’s personal history as a Vietnam nurse into the story. It really gave it a unique touch. I’ve decided to make it the cover story for next month.”

I leaned heavily against the counter. “Are you serious?”

Kate chuckled. “Oh, I’m very serious. In fact, I wanted to talk to you about possibly coming on fulltime. You’ve been freelancing with us for over a year and your articles are some of the best in the magazine. We’re going to be expanding our online offerings and I’m opening up a rec for a fulltime staff writer. Would you be interested?”

I almost choked. “Are you serious?” I repeated.

“Yes. I promise you, I’m serious,” Kate replied shortly. “So, we’ve established that I’m very, very serious. What do you think? That would mean you’d be expected to work from the office as opposed to remotely. Do you think that would be a problem?”

I was having a hard time formulating sentences. My mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Sure, Southern Gardens magazine wasn’t a hard-hitting publication covering current events but it was a step in the right direction. I would be writing. And making money doing it. That was all I wanted.

“Gracie? Are you still there?” Kate asked, sounding slightly annoyed. Shit. I needed to give her an answer.

“No, Kate, that won’t be a problem. And yes! I’m interested! Thank you! Thank you so much!” I let out in a rush.

“You’re welcome. I wouldn’t have offered it if you didn’t deserve it. You’re a talented writer, Gracie.”

“Thank you, that means a lot to hear you say that,” I told her sincerely, hardly able to believe what was happening.

“Okay, well come into the office on Monday and we’ll get you sorted. I’m glad to have you on board fulltime. I think it will be a good fit for everyone,” Kate concluded.

“I do too. I’ll see you Monday,” I said and then hung up. I put down my phone and started jumping up and down in the middle of the kitchen.

“Woohoo! I’m so awesome!” I sang, waving my hands in the air.

“What’s with the dance party?” Cole asked, padding into the room with socked feet and no shirt. And no pants. Yep, except for the socks, he was naked. What else was new? I averted my eyes and stared at the chipped paint above the refrigerator. Viv and I were going to have to have a serious talk about her boyfriend’s aversion to clothing.

“I just got offered a fulltime job at Southern Gardens magazine,” I said excitedly, making the mistake of looking at him and then covering my eyes. “Dude, can you put something on? I don’t want to see your schlong when I really want to scream and jump around about my new fulltime job.”

Cole chuckled. “Okay, your eyes are safe.”

I peeked between my fingers and saw that he was now wearing boxers. Where the hell had he been hiding those? Up his ass crack?

Cole filled the coffee maker with water and turned it on. “That’s great, G. Congratulations,” he said, his words punctuated by a yawn and a scratch to his now hidden junk.

I could overlook his exhibitionist tendencies just this once. I grabbed his hands and started shaking them up and down. “Come on, jump around with me, Cole!” I commanded, wiggling his arms.

He lifted a fist into the air and gave me a limp fist pump. “Woohoo! Go Gracie!”

“Why are you woohooing Gracie?” Vivian asked, slapping her boyfriend’s ass as she breezed into the kitchen looking like she had just gotten back from a photo shoot as opposed to rolling out of bed. I knew that she had just been frantically applying makeup and styling her hair after Cole had left the room. My roommate didn’t believe in messy hair and morning breath. It was against her religion.

“G got a job,” Cole explained as he handed her a cup of coffee.

Vivian’s eyes widened and she shrieked loudly. “Oh my god! You did? What job? Tell me!”

Cole covered his ears with his hands. “You guys are so loud in the morning,” he moaned as he trudged back to Vivian’s bedroom.

“Come on, Gracie, don’t leave me hanging!” Vivian prompted.

“Kate, my editor at Southern Gardens magazine, was impressed with my latest article and asked if I wanted the fulltime position she just opened up. I am now officially a fulltime journalist,” I told her. She screamed dramatically and started shaking her hips in a dance and I wiggled along with her.

When we finally settle down, Vivian squeezed my hands. “This calls for a celebration! We need to go out!”

“Viv, it’s not even lunchtime,” I pointed out.

“So! I’m calling Maysie and we’re having an impromptu lunch date at Barton’s! My treat.” She pulled out her phone and typed out a text to Maysie. “Now go put on something cute,” she instructed. She walked down the hallway back towards her room. “Cole! Get dressed! We’re taking Gracie to lunch!” she yelled before slamming her bedroom door.

I picked up my phone and wondered who else I could call to share my good news with.

I thought briefly about calling my parents but I didn’t want their negativity to put a damper on my good mood.

Mitch…

That was out of the question.

So I put my phone back down and went and got dressed, wondering when he’d stop being my first thought.

And my last one.

“Okay, this calls for a toast. Everyone raise your glasses,” Maysie shouted over the loud conversation at our table.

We were all crowded into a long booth at the back of Barton’s. Maysie, Jordan, Vivian, Cole, and myself were gorging on mozzarella sticks and potato skins as we waited for our lunch orders to show up. Everyone was excited for me and I was reminded again why I had the best friends in the world.

“To Gracie! Who is on her way to conquering the world!” Maysie toasted, giving me a wide smile.

“Yep, conquering the world one overgrown garden at a time,” I snarked.

Vivian kissed my cheek loudly and I was pretty sure she left a lipstick smear behind. “To Gracie!” she saluted.

“To Gracie!” Jordan and Cole yelled as loud as they could.

“To Gracie!” Dina, the bartender and the rest of the wait staff shouted. Everyone in the restaurant clapped, even though I knew they had no idea what they were clapping about. But it felt pretty damn awesome.

“You guys having a party and didn’t invite me?”

And there went my good mood. My heart did a slam-dunk into my shoes.

“Hey man, what are you doing here? I thought you were spending the day with Sophie,” Jordan said, sliding down the booth to give Mitch room to sit down.

“Yeah, well she’s got stuff to do today,” he said offhandedly as he squished in beside Jordan and smack dab across from me. Our knees bumped under the table and he gave me a half smile.

“Hey Gracie,” he greeted and I inclined my head in acknowledgment.

There was a brief moment of silence where everyone seemed to recognize the rise in tension.

We’ll be old friends that used to be close but have drifted apart.

“So what’s everyone celebrating?” Mitch asked.

“Gracie got a new job!” Vivian announced, bumping my shoulder.

Mitch’s eyes sparkled in my direction. “You did? That’s awesome, G. What kind of job is it?”

He called me G again. I loved that he still did that. Sometimes.

Then he gave me his stomach turning, heart-flipping smile.

“I’ve been taken on as a fulltime staff writer at Southern Gardens magazine. It’s really no big deal—”

“No big deal? That’s a huge deal! You’re getting to write! That’s what you’ve always wanted to do!” Mitch enthused.

I couldn’t help but smile back. He seemed so genuinely happy for me that joy spread from the tips of my fingers all the way down to my toes. “Yeah. I’m pretty stoked.”

Then I felt his foot lightly kick mine under the table. My gaze flickered up and met his. “I’m really proud of you,” he said softly and for a second we were the only ones at the table.

Just Mitch and Gracie…

“Boys! It’s so good to have you back at Barton’s!” Mitch’s eyes tore away from mine and looked up at the man who had appeared beside our table.

Mitch moved his foot away so that it was no longer touching mine. But that was okay. Because we were just old friends.

Why did that sound so depressing?

“Hey, Moore,” Jordan said, shaking the manager of Barton’s hand.

“So,” Moore rubbed his hands together and gave them a cheesy smile. “What are the chances I could get you guys to play here next weekend? We’ve had a cancellation and it would be wonderful to have a successful local band playing on their old stage again. It would be great for business.”

Jordan, Mitch, and Cole all shared a look. “I don’t know, Moore—”

“I’ll pay you of course,” Moore interrupted.

“It’s not about the money. We just have some shit going on next week—” Jordan went on.

Maysie leaned into her fiancé and put her hand on his arm. “Come on, Jordan, it’s just one show. It would be amazing to have you guys play here again. It’ll be like old times.”

Jordan gave her an indulgent smile. He would never say no now.

“Well, Garrett gets back from Massachusetts on Monday. I guess we could play Saturday night,” Jordan began.

Cole shrugged. “Sure, I’m down. What do you say, Mitch?”

Mitch smacked his hand down on top of the table. “Let’s do it. It’ll be nice to play to a full crowd again.”

Moore clasped Jordan’s shoulder. “Fantastic! It’ll be a great show. I’ll have Dina bring over some drinks to celebrate having the Rejects back on their old stomping ground. She’s created a special concoction just for the bar.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Jordan said.

Dina came by with a tray full of drinks. She placed one down in front of each of us. My mouth all but watered at the sight. Vivian picked it up and sniffed. “What’s in it?”

“It’s vodka and cranberry juice with some schnapps and other things thrown in. We’re calling it the Barton Reject in honor of the boys.” Mitch and Cole laughed and Jordan raised his glass in a salute.

Vivian and Cole downed their drinks. Maysie handed hers to Jordan and he set them aside. “You’re not going to drink it?” Vivian asked Maysie frowning.