Every Minute

by C J Burright

  Adara hunched in her raincoat. Blast. He must be with Ian, which meant he’d be lost until Ian allowed him to be found. “Do you know where he might be?”

  “Why? So you can rip out another organ along with his heart?” London stepped forward, a predator defending her territory—or brother, as the case may be. “I’ll always be grateful for what you did for Tatum, but that gratitude doesn’t excuse you for playing games with my brother.”

  Her throat constricted. “I didn’t mean—”

  London lunged, so close that their noses almost touched, so close a draft carrying the sour scent of baby spit up mingled with the rain. “I wouldn’t give you his location even if he was dying and only your blood type could save him.”

  So much for the family Welcome Wagon. Adara met London’s gaze squarely. “I messed up. I know that. I’d love to rewind and change a step or two—or a few hundred, for that matter—but even if I could, I’m not sure I would.”

  London’s eyes narrowed and glinted, firecrackers ready to explode.

  “I’ll never regret that Garret invaded my life, and I hate that it took me seeing him at his best then witnessing it collapse to recognize—”

  “I’ll only say this once.” The flames in London’s eyes trickled into her voice, making it crackle. “Stay away from him. He doesn’t need someone who makes him feel like he’s not enough.”

  “Look… I had a brother too. I understand you want to protect him, and I get that you don’t trust me.” Adara clenched her jaw, her temperature rising toward boiling. “But you don’t know me. I’m going to talk to him, with or without your help.”

  A sound that sounded strangely like a hissing cat erupted from London and Bob appeared in the doorway. He latched onto London’s shaking shoulders with both hands and dragged her inside. After some hushed words, he stepped onto the porch and shut the door behind him.

  “You’re not going to find Garret any time soon, Adara.” The words were harsh, but Bob’s voice was gentle. “He’s gone.”

  Gone. Her heart thundered, echoing in her head. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”

  “He was asked to fill in for a tour. His flight left an hour ago, and once he’s on the concert circuit, he’s all business. He only carries a private cell connected to his manager. No one will hear from him until the tour’s done.” He spread his hands…apologetic. “Sorry. Go home and get some rest. It’s been a rough day for everyone.”

  As Adara stood in the rain, paralyzed, he slipped back inside. She still stood there when the lights went out, one by one.

  Garret is gone. She’d figured everything out too late. A fine trembling rose up from deep inside, making her legs shake, and she gasped for breath. He hadn’t even told her goodbye.

  She closed her eyes, ripped off her hood and tipped her face to the sky, letting the rain cleanse away the fear. No way. If he believed in serendipity, she did too. She hadn’t come back to life only to lose it again.

  She texted Gia.

  I need help.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The next morning, Adara barely had time to stash her purse before students filed in, bright-eyed and full of energy, except for Tatum. She stomped into the classroom with her glare full-on and deadly. A kidnapping couldn’t keep Tatum Sullivan down long.

  Tatum stopped right beside her desk and folded her thin arms over her neon pink T-shirt, hiding the sparkly kitten on front. Her London glare sharpened even more. “I’m not talking to you.”

  The mess simmering in the bottom of her stomach since last night pinched. “May I ask why?”

  “Uncle Garret left because you made him sad.” She clomped a foot. “He left Angel with us to cat-sit, flew across the ocean to do his music, and now I won’t see him until I’m ten and old.” Her bottom lip trembled. “I’m not talking to you, Miss Dumont.” She marched across the classroom and flung herself into her seat.

  Adara sank into her chair before her legs gave out. Garret was going to be gone two years? While they’d talked into the wee hours, Gia had found his concert location—in Ireland. Of course, it had to be Ireland—and they were meeting tonight to figure out a game plan. But…two years? That didn’t sound like someone who believed in second chances.

  She sucked in a breath. He hadn’t given up on her when she didn’t want to be found. It was time for payback.

  The first bell rang like a warning and the students settled, all attention on her as she stood and circled her desk. Adara stopped dead center and gazed at her kids for a moment. They were all amazing in their own unique ways, from Haley and her ready smile to Zachary’s sweet gestures and Tatum’s mischievousness. Garret might have been the one who breathed life back into her, but these kids had helped her hang on until then.

  “I know last night’s concert didn’t go as planned, but you all got up on stage, followed Mr. Ambrose’s directions and showed off the musical skills you learned. I could not have been more proud of each and every one of you.”

  “Except for Adam.” Ava sniffed. “He ruined the whole thing with his drum.”

  Adam hunched and stared at his desk.

  “That wasn’t Adam’s fault. It was mine. Mr. Ambrose wanted the drums together and I didn’t. I should have listened to him.”

  They all looked at her with levels of wariness, as if this was some sort of morality test they might be quizzed on later. Adam grinned shyly. Tatum still glared.

  “So, in honor of how well you performed last night, I’m opening the treasure chest.” Squeals and clapping erupted and she held up her hands, putting her stern teacher mask back on. “I’ll open the treasure chest,” she said in a raised voice, “after the quiz.”

  A series of awwws and grumbles replaced the rejoicing, and she bit her lip to hold back a smile. “The quiz today is on music. Everyone who finishes gets an A-plus. There are no wrong answers.”

  Quiet now, students exchanged suspicious looks, clearly waiting for the catch.

  “Your quiz is to make something to show Mr. Ambrose how music inspired you. Use whatever craft supplies you want, however you want. Be creative.” She let her smile go. “That’s it.”

  No one moved from their seat, looking at her as if she’d sprouted a snoot, whiskers and fangs.

  “What are you waiting for, ye barnacle-bottomed landlubbers?” She pointed at the craft supply cabinet. “You’ve got until morning recess. Go!”

  By ten o’clock recess, she had seven poems and letters covered in either glitter, flowers or both, a construction paper drum, a Popsicle stick violin with yarn strings, drawings of notes and birds, rainbows and race cars, several hearts and a pipe cleaner pirate ship. She wasn’t sure what the pirate ship had to do with musical inspiration, but it was creative.

  During silent reading time, Adara tapped her phone with a pencil eraser, the silence of the classroom choking. She couldn’t, wouldn’t believe her epiphany had come too late. Other than having her brother back, she’d never wanted anything more than having Garret in her life. Joey and Garret were on equal wish ground, but Garret was still here, still a possibility. She couldn’t wait until school broke for summer. She had to find him now, which meant she had to track Principal Austin down at lunch and ask for an indeterminate time of personal leave. And if he said no? Her heart fluttered and she swallowed hard. If he said no, she’d go anyway.

  Movement stirred at the back of the classroom. She looked up right as Tatum flicked Zachary’s ear.

  Adara affected her best teacher scowl. “Tatum, will you come to my desk, please?”

  “But, he—”

  “Tatum.” She made sure her tone held a ‘no arguments’ warning.

  With the sigh of the unjustified, Tatum stood and slogged to the front of the room, every eye on her.

  “Back to your reading, class.” She hid a smile as students obeyed her crisp command—or at least valiantly pretended to. “Into the hall, Tatum.”

  The girl’s blue eyes widened and a sharper tension strung through the class
. Hall speech. Big Trouble.

  Adara kept her stern teacher façade on until they were both out of the classroom, the door shut. Squatting to Tatum’s height, she held her gaze.

  “Zachary started it, Miss Dumont.” Tatum stuck out her bottom lip. “I was only defending my honor.”

  “I believe you.” She released a smile, which seemed to make Tatum even more uncertain. “I wanted to apologize.” Pulling the wildlife sticker sheet from behind her back that she’d grabbed from her drawer, she handed it over. “I made a mistake and it made Garret sad, so I’m going to tell him I’m sorry.”

  “But he’s gone!” Tears gleamed in her eyes. “Across the ocean!”

  “I know.” She wiped a few stray tears from Tatum’s cheek with her thumbs. “That’s why I won’t be in class tomorrow or the rest of the week.” Maybe never, depending on Austin. “This particular Jane finally figured out she needs her Mr. Bingley, but unlike Jane Bennet, I’m not waiting around for him to come back. I’m going to get him.” Getting London’s approval wasn’t happening and maybe she was a wimp, but she wanted at least one ally in the Sullivan family. She wasn’t above sticker manipulation.

  Tatum hugged the stickers to her chest. “Really? You’re bringing him back?”

  “I’ll do my best. The ultimate decision is up to him.”

  “Rub his head like you would with Angel,” she said solemnly. “He likes that.”

  Yes, he does. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Tatum flung her skinny arms around her neck, too fast for Adara to move. School policy forbid hugs, but since she probably wouldn’t have a job at the end of the day anyway, she folded the girl close. There was something about a kid hug given freely that stirred up the warm fuzzies.

  A sharp pinch on her ear dispelled those dandelion fluffs. Tatum released her and glared. “That’s for making Uncle Garret sad.”

  “I deserved that.” Adara arched an eyebrow. “But we’re still on my time. No pinching, not even naughty teachers.”

  Tatum’s smile flashed, wide and wicked. “I’m not giving back the stickers.”

  “Big surprise.” She straightened and smoothed Tatum’s hair. “And the only reason Zachary keeps tapping his foot and making your desk wiggle is because he likes you.”

  Her eyes sparkled, blue glitter in full sunlight. Zachary didn’t stand a chance. She’d corner him at lunch, no mercy, no surrender. Kids made romance look so easy. If all she had to do was chase Garret down, she’d be golden.

  During lunch, Adara did some cornering of her own and caught Austin in his office, stuffing his face with a meatball sub. She planted her palms on his desk and leaned forward. “I need some time off. I don’t know for how long, but it has to start tomorrow.”

  He chewed slowly and his brown eyes gleamed, the thick glasses warping any emotion there. After a swallow, he exchanged sandwich for soft drink and slurped through the straw, his gaze never leaving her, studying and assessing. Deciding.

  The rat-a-tat of her heart thrummed at every pulse point, vibrating through her fingertips to drum the desk. Maybe email would’ve been received better. Austin hated his meals to be interrupted, forget the fact that he ate constantly. But she had no choice. Austin never stayed late on Wednesdays. It was now or never.

  He finally set his plastic cup down, daintily dabbed a napkin at his mustache and cleared his throat. “Let me get this straight. You persuaded the school board to consider your plan to eliminate the music program if you collected enough signatures, you managed to get said signatures, kept your teaching position instead of the music program, took a pay cut with it and now you want time off?”

  She went for a smile, which he didn’t return. “It appears you have a clear understanding of the situation, sir.”

  His mustache twitched. “Sir?”

  “I’m sucking up.”

  He sighed, settling back in his chair, and gave his sandwich a longing look before focusing on her again. “Miss Dumont, you’ve worked here not even three years. You’re our least experienced and youngest teacher.”

  There it went, her job flushing down the toilet. She tried to keep her voice steady while ice crept into her veins. “I know.”

  “Word gets around fast along the grade-school grapevine,” he said, toneless. “Parents gossip, kids tell tales, teachers talk.”

  “I know.” Her dry mouth made it hard to talk. “I love working with the kids. I love my job, but—”

  “A year or so ago, I asked you to take time off, nearly demanded it.” He folded his hands over his belt, which seemed to have shrunk in the last few months. “You were absent one day. One day. For the funeral. You never missed another, but your passion faded away, week by week, until the teacher I hired, the person I semi-know and semi-like hardly existed.”

  Tears scalded her eyes, and she bowed her head to hide them.

  “Parents are already requesting their kids to be in your class next year.”

  “They are?” She blinked, sure she’d misheard.

  “You finally snapped out of it.” He shrugged. “Everyone noticed. If you need some time off to remain out of your funk, take it. I’ll sub for the little monsters until summer if I have to.” He picked up his half-eaten sub and paused, his eyebrows lifted. “Is there something else? You’re cutting into my meatball moment.”

  She leaned over the desk and squeezed his forearm. “You’re the best principal ever.”

  He scowled. “I already know that, Miss Dumont. Go, before I change my mind.”

  * * * *

  Adara had just killed her security system and unlocked the door when Gia showed up, armed with wine and rocky road. Gia marched inside, determination in every line, from her stilettos to clingy silk blouse to jeweled headband. “Let’s do this.”

  “I haven’t checked out tickets or flights or anything yet,” Adara said, following Gia into the living room. She plopped onto the couch and opened her laptop. “I’m still in shock that Austin gave me time off without docking my pay.”

  Gia slapped the laptop shut, making her jump, and looked her squarely in the eyes. “You’re going to have to ditch your comfy little world, face awkward situations with lots of people, deal with the unknown and maybe be rejected. You’ll be diving back into life with no prep time. Are you serious about getting him back?”

  Her stomach somersaulted and her hands shook. Right. Not only would she have to travel to a place she’d planned to go with Joey—a place she’d never been before—but she’d have to basically stalk Garret if she wanted a chance to speak to him. Even then, there were no guarantees she’d succeed or he’d take her back. It was getting hard to breathe.

  “Is he worth it?” Gia asked quietly.

  Adara gave the fluttering inside free rein. All in. “If I have to storm the stage to get Garret to acknowledge me, I’ll do it. He can’t run faster than me. Known fact.”

  Gia’s smile lit up like a sunrise. “Let the Adara Overhaul Project begin. No matter what happens, we’ll make sure he never forgets you. When was the last time you had a manicure?”

  She frowned at her fingernails. “Um…”

  “That’s what I thought.” From Gia’s grim tone, one would think she’d committed murder. “Halloween’s officially over, girl. Out with the black. You need clothes that say ‘I’m here and I give a crap’. Highlights to make your hair pop. Most of all, your eyebrows need tamed. They scare me.”

  “The direction of this conversation scares me.” Adara eased away. If she did it slow enough, maybe Gia wouldn’t notice. “I don’t think he cares about any of those things.”

  “He will.” Gia lassoed her arm and pulled her toward the door. “We’ve got to start at the ground up. Then, we’ll plot your final destination.”

  Three hours later, feeling like a coin tumbled, plucked, scrubbed and polished until she sparkled, Adara tossed her shopping bags beside the couch while Gia fetched wine reinforcement.

  “After all the suffering I endured tonight, I hope my cr
edit card doesn’t get declined when I book a flight.” She bounced onto the couch and her hair brushed her cheek, sleek and smooth. The magic of salons even worked on skeptical teachers.

  “It’s a bad sign when your credit card company calls you while at the salon, concerned about suspicious salon charges,” Gia called from the kitchen. “And that red dress isn’t going back. You kill in that thing. He won’t have any chance of not seeing you.”

  “Truth,” she muttered, opening her laptop and firing it up. The dress was something out of a movie, and wearing it gave new meaning to Miss Scarlet. But the embroidered, sewn-in corset reflected her love for gothic—and made it nearly impossible to breathe. But yeah, she looked good in it. Her students wouldn’t even recognize her. Hopefully, Garret would.

  “Trade you.” Gia handed her a glass of wine while taking the laptop with her free hand, almost sloshing the contents onto the couch. “If your card gets declined, we’ll use mine. No going back.”

  “Wasn’t planning on it.” She grinned as Gia settled beside her, laptop across her thighs. “If I have to travel halfway across the world, sit through his concert and let myself fall apart just for a chance to talk to him, I’ll do it…even in a suffocation bag disguised as a red dress.”

  “To red dresses.” Gia clinked their glasses together and set hers aside. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, and she blinked. Hit another key. Blinked again. “Holy Hades. He’s sold out…everywhere.”

  “How he could be sold out? He just left last night.”

  “Either he has a wizard manager who sees the future, or he wasn’t telling you the whole story.” Gia frowned, her face etched in the computer light. “You think he was playing you?”

  “He’s not like Ian.” She arched an eyebrow at her friend.

  Other than a mouth twitch, Gia didn’t take the bait. “Maybe you should ask Bob for his secret number.”

  She shook her head, fast. “Even if Bob agreed, this has to be all on me—my doing, my demo. Garret needs to know I’m all in. If I can’t get him to believe that, I don’t stand a chance.”