Just a Heartbeat Away

by Cara Bastone

  Via grimaced at how true that was. “But life’s not a play.”

  “Nope. And there’s no script. And besides, a good actor doesn’t need a stage.”

  “Ugh,” Via groaned, scrubbing at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Why is it so hard to ask for what you want?”

  “What do you want?”

  Via took a deep breath. “I just want a steady life. No more surprises. I want to be able to rely on someone besides myself. And you, of course. I don’t want to date a twerp who can’t keep a job or remember to pay his electricity bill. I don’t want to take care of everyone around me. I just want to feel safe. And secure. And somehow, I’m single again, crushing on a man who may or may not be crushing back. And even if he is crushing, who knows if he wants to date? And if he wants to date, who knows if he’s stable? I had everything nice and level, and then my idiot heart went and stomped on the other end of the seesaw.”

  “Yes, that all makes perfect sense. Because Evan was such a steady part of your life. That twenty-seven-year-old man-child sure was reliable. He wasn’t flighty or forgetful. He knew exactly what he wanted out of life. He didn’t make you pay for shit all the time. And he sure was good at remembering your birthday.”

  Via laughed at the list, even though it hurt a little bit to hear it, and then rolled to face her friend. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Fin.”

  “Via, when you’re this gorgeous, everything suits you.”

  They both laughed then, and it was loud and unladylike and deeply cathartic. Via took the crystal off her chest and handed it to her friend. “I’m nuts, Fin. Don’t mind me. I’m just coming loose at all the edges.” Via put a hand over her eyes and then propped her feet up on the railing with a deep breath. “All the edges I thought I’d already tucked in.”

  “Yes, well, c’est la vie.” That’s life. “It has a way of untucking the blanket.”

  They sat in silence for a minute, Fin studying the muddying blue of the night sky and Via studying Fin. “Everything all right? You seem tense, Finny.”

  Fin looked affronted, like the idea of tension offended her. She sniffed, her dark eyes flashing obsidian in the dark. “I am not tense.”

  Via swallowed her smile. Serafine St. Romain might have been mysterious and hard to read for many people. But Via wasn’t one of them “You sure are.”

  Fin let out a long breath. The murky sky reflected in her big, light eyes. When she spoke, it was the flatness in her tone that immediately told Via just how hurt she really was. “My application got rejected again.”

  “No!” Via immediately reached out and squeezed Fin’s hand.

  “I don’t know what to do. Maybe get an office job?”

  “Fin, no. You’d wither away in a corporate atmosphere.”

  “But they keep saying that they don’t take applicants who make their money in cash. I guess they’ve been burned too many times by hustlers who are trying to make some extra money by taking in a foster kid.” Fin laughed humorlessly. “Can’t make enough money slinging on a street corner? Take in a stray child! The state pays your grocery bill.”

  “If that,” Via muttered, remembering all the ways Jetty had had to make ends meet to raise two children at once. Via made a rare noise of frustration. “It’s just so backward. You’re the exact type of person they want fostering kids. You’re responsible and kind and intelligent and compassionate. Just because you tell fortunes for a living, they reject your application. Meanwhile, they’re just gonna keep on siphoning kids into overcrowded homes with overworked foster parents.”

  “They don’t trust me. I go in for the interview with all this hair and all this jewelry and my spooky accent and they think, She must be on drugs.”

  Except for this last time. It had been heartbreaking. Via had come over and dressed Fin in the most sedate outfit she had. Slacks and a blazer. She’d braided her wild hair back and limited her to three pieces of jewelry. And still, somehow, application rejected.

  “It drives me nuts because I feel like the people in charge of the system have absolutely no idea what it feels like to be a foster kid.”

  “Exactly.” Fin stood and paced from one side of the porch to the other. Fin had been in and out of the foster system in Louisiana before her mother finally got her shit together enough to sign over custody to her sister, Jetty. Fin and Via both knew exactly what it was to have nothing to hold onto but yourself. To store every other bite of food in your pocket because you didn’t know where your next meal might come from. To fall asleep with strange sheets on your cheek and strange smells in your nose. To be told that this new stranger was your brother now, or your sister. Or your mother.

  Fin brushed tears from her eyes and rounded on Via. “I’ve seen too many kids run afoul of the system. Took me too many years to end up here. With you and Jetty. I’ve seen every kind of neglect under the sun. And now I just have to sit on my porch with you and know there are children out there who need me. Right this second.”

  Via held out her arms, like she used to when they were skinny preteens, them against the world. Fin went immediately into the sweaty hug her sister offered and they snuggled together on the small porch chair. “Can you see what will happen to you, Fin? The way you do for other people?”

  Via had asked this question before, and she knew the answer. Maybe it was her gentle way of reminding Fin what was what.

  “Yes, I can see some of it, maybe one-eighth of the picture. Just like everyone else.”

  “And what do you see? Do you see a kid in your future?”

  “No.” Her voice was rigid and brittle. “I see a man. And I love him and hate him at the same time.”

  “Who is he?”

  “I don’t know. If I knew, I’d be running in the opposite direction.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THAT FRIDAY, VIA rushed into Cider for happy hour. She was ten minutes behind everyone else and she looked like it. Her messenger bag was overflowing with paperwork she had to do this weekend. Fuck you very much, Mr. Tate. That particular incident just wouldn’t die. Also, her hair was flying in nine different directions, she could just feel it, and she’d lost a button on her favorite peacoat. Not to mention she was pretty sure her scarf was only over one of her shoulders right now. With her luck, the other end was trailing on the ground.

  She spotted the teachers’ crew in their usual corner and bypassed them straight for the bar instead.

  “Hi, Christian,” she called. She and the silver fox of a bartender had become pretty friendly over the last few weeks. She hadn’t bothered to tell him that she and Evan had broken up, mostly because she never wanted to get his number on a receipt again. She liked him, though. He was a casual flirt, pretty funny and very easy on the eyes.

  “Gorgeous,” he said as he coasted a hand down the bar counter. “You look...a little disheveled, to be honest.”

  She barked out a laugh. “I believe it. Hell of a day.”

  “Apparently.” He grinned at her. “Your usual?”

  “Please.” She waited obediently by the bar, attempting to dig out her wallet without upending everything else. She could only imagine the show she was putting on for all her teacher friends across the room. She was sure she was in for some healthy ribbing from Sadie the second she sat down.

  “Darlin’, go sit your cute ass down at the table. I’ll bring it to you.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t have to serve me, Christian.”

  He rolled his eyes. “It’s either that or help you pick up all those papers that are about to come tumbling out of your bag when you try to carry your beer.”

  She laughed again, shaking her hair back. “Fair enough.”

  She tossed him a friendly wave and then made her way over to the teachers’ table.

  “Good Lord, Via, did you encounter a tornado out there?” Sure enough, Sadie was the first person to say someth
ing.

  Via hung her messenger bag over the back of the only free chair, whipped off her coat and scarf, and smoothed her hair as she plunked down into the seat. She let out a deep breath as she looked around at her friends. “So predictable, Sade, that you’d be the first person to make a joke.”

  Via’s eyes stalled halfway around the table when her gaze landed on Sebastian. He never came to happy hours. Like, ever. But there he was, not four feet away. Via blinked at him. He took a swallow of beer and then raised his eyebrows, taking the corners of his lips with them.

  She couldn’t help but give him a surprised little smile back. Via scanned the rest of the table. Of course, Rachel was sitting on Sebastian’s left, already pawing at his arm and trying to get his attention back.

  Grace was on his other side. Sadie, Cat and Shelly were in the other spots. And on Via’s right was a substitute teacher Via had seen around but never been introduced to before. He was cute, in a totally geeky kind of way. Severely parted blond hair and thick rimmed glasses. He looked like he could probably have fit into Via’s size two trousers without having to suck in very much at all.

  “Hi, we haven’t met.” He held out one hand. “Greg Hauser.”

  “Hi, Greg, Via DeRosa.”

  “You’re the school counselor, right?”

  “That’s right, for third through—”

  “Gorgeous.” Christian leaned across her, setting her dark beer in front of her.

  “You’re a godsend.” She flashed him a quick smile, not too flirty, and tried to hand him the cash she’d tucked into her hand just a moment ago.

  He waved her off. “On the house.”

  She frowned after him. That had been a little presumptuous. He’d basically just bought her a drink. She hoped none of her teacher friends had let it slip that she was single.

  “Friend of yours?” Greg asked.

  “What? Oh. Sort of. I just know him from these happy hours. So, you’re a sub?”

  Via felt a buzz in the pocket of her trousers. And she knew, she just knew, that it wasn’t from Fin. There were a few other people who texted her on a regular basis. But some sexy, haughty, spine-dancing sixth sense told her exactly who’d just texted her. And she could feel his eyes on the side of her face as she made small talk with Greg.

  She kept her eyes on Greg’s face while he answered her question, but she couldn’t for the life of her have repeated a single thing he’d said. In fact, it was as if Greg had started speaking French. She waited a few more seconds, nodding politely before she pulled the phone out of her pocket, taking a sip of her beer at the same time. She kept her face completely neutral as she opened the text from Seb. Not only did she not want him to see her giggling like a schoolgirl at any text he sent her way, the rest of these ladies at the table had such a nose for gossip, they’d be on her in a second about what cute guy she was texting with.

  Got yourself quite the fan club, Miss DeRosa.

  She looked up at Seb, who was grinning at her across the table. Could say the same for you, she texted back, noticing that if Rachel leaned any closer to Seb, her breasts would actually be resting on his arm.

  “Hey, Sade, how’s the wedding planning going?” Via asked, leaning back so as not to cut Greg out of the conversation completely.

  “Oh, a whirlwind. Romantic. Stressful. The whole nine.”

  “Did you invite everyone from school?” Cat asked Sadie.

  “Sure did.”

  “Jesus. That’s a lot of people.”

  “Well, certain family excluded, we wanted a big, honking celebration. The gaudier the better.” Sadie shrugged. “Wasn’t that long ago it wasn’t even legal. We’re ready to sing it from the mountaintops.”

  “I love it,” Via said, grinning at Sadie. “Is it gonna be traditional? Wacky? Whimsical? Hippy dippy?”

  “Yes,” Sadie answered, making Via tip her head back and laugh. Her phone had buzzed a few seconds ago, but she could show a little restraint, couldn’t she?

  She let the conversation flow on around her, like she was a rock and it was a stream. She finally looked down at her phone. And then she laughed out loud.

  You mean Grace and Shelly?

  She rolled her eyes again, before her gaze fell on a very interesting sight. Geeky Greg was leaning back in his chair, talking to Rachel. And she was talking back. She was still sitting way too close to Seb, in Via’s humble opinion. But she was tilted away from him.

  I think I spoke too soon. Greg just stole your girl.

  She caught his eye and looked pointedly at the two people sitting between them, Rachel and Greg.

  I’ve gotta say, Seb texted back almost immediately. Greg’s kind of blowing my mind right now.

  Via bit her lip to keep from grinning like a giddy, flirty fool. Greg’s got game.

  Then they were both laughing. Looking down at their phones, sure, but laughing together, even from across the table.

  Seconds later, Via got another text, but it wasn’t from Seb. It was from Cat. Via raised her eyes to her colleague sitting on the other side of Sadie and opened the message.

  I think he came here tonight for you.

  Via’s breath caught in her throat and suddenly she felt a little ill. Flirting with Sebastian was one thing. Having her coworkers knowing and discussing it was a whole other bowl of soup. Via scooted her chair back and squeezed Sadie’s shoulder. “Just hitting the bathroom real quick.”

  And then she was gone down the back hall and into the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror over the sink and almost groaned. She was pink-cheeked and messy-haired. Her lipstick was long gone, and her eye makeup was just a touch clumpier than she liked. She looked like a teenager who’d just gotten free tickets to a band she was dying to see. She looked like she’d just been kissed for the first time. She looked like—

  The bathroom door swung open, and Cat strode in, chagrin in her eyes and both hands extended toward Via. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  Via held her hands out for Cat and let herself get swallowed up in a hug. “It’s okay.”

  “No,” Cat said vehemently, pulling back from Via and squeezing her shoulders. “It’s not okay, I should have kept my big trap shut. None of that is my business.”

  “No.” Via waved her hand. “There’s nothing there that could even be your business. There’s nothing.”

  Cat paused. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that it’s nothing. There’s nothing there.”

  Cat bit her lip and stepped back, crossing her arms and making her knee-length poncho sweater tuck in the middle. “I’m gonna say one thing, and then I’m gonna shut up forever, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “It really seems like there’s something there.”

  “Oh God.” Via turned to the sink and let cold water run out onto her hand. She touched her frigid fingers to the back of her neck. “I don’t want to be the object of gossip, Cat. I can’t do that. I don’t have the luxury. I have my apartment, my one friend, and this job. That’s it. No family, barely enough money to keep me afloat for a few months if I got fired. And that’s all. I already look like I’m about seventeen years old, everybody tells me. And I just can’t have a rumor destroy everything I’ve worked for.”

  “Via, darlin’, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. First of all, you’re young and hot, and so is he, and I’m sorry, but that’s the stuff that rumors are made of. All right? Gossip is not a sophisticated bitch. It takes the lowest hanging, most obvious fruit and waits for it to make a baby or divorce its wife, all right?”

  Via laughed, despite the panic and nausea coursing through her system.

  “And second of all, fired? Grim is basically in love with you after the way you handled that whole thing with that angry dad. You’re not in danger of getting fired, even if there are salacious rumors b
uzzing around about you. I’m serious,” she added, her face following Via’s as she lolled it to one despairing side. “You’re single, he’s single, and as long as y’all don’t do it in the hallway, I’m pretty sure no one is gonna give two shits.”

  Via somehow went completely tight with humiliation and still managed to laugh. “Let’s not put the cart before the horse, Cat. He and I have never even insinuated that we might...”

  “Wanna put a baby in each other?”

  “Oh my God.”

  Both women were laughing now.

  Cat stepped forward again, and this time she had a steely glint in her eye, her arms still crossed. “Via, I want you to leave this bathroom knowing, in your gut, two things, okay?”

  “Okay...”

  She held up one finger and then the other, her long brown hair tossing back over her shoulder. “One. Fuck the haters. And two. That man came here tonight to be close to you. No bones about it. And I’m pretty sure he wore a new shirt.”

  * * *

  CAT WENT OUT FIRST, and Via followed a few minutes later. She was still scattered and trepidatious, but she took what Cat said to heart. There were already too many obstacles in the way for her and Seb. She didn’t need to be out here creating new ones.

  Fuck the haters. He came here for me.

  Via pulled up short as she realized that Rachel and Greg had vacated the table and were now standing at the bar, hip to hip. The seat next to Seb was open. She ignored every nervous, whiny impulse that was rearing up inside of her and instead she plunked herself down in the seat formerly known as Rachel’s.

  “Hi,” he said, obviously a little taken aback by the look in her eyes, which Via could only guess said crazy woman.

  “Hi.”

  “Everything all right? Cat ran after you pretty fast.”