“She’s just fun to look at.” Shondra completed Easton’s thought before Easton realized that was exactly what she was thinking.
“God, yes. And then Connor asked me if I was going to ‘check that out.’” Easton made air quotes with her fingers to emphasize how she felt about that. “Which was so weird.”
“I bet.”
“I can find my own dates, thank you. I don’t need my ex-husband trying to fix me up.”
Shondra was quiet for a beat before saying gently, “Maybe that was his way of showing you that he’s okay with your new life?” She phrased it as a question on purpose, Easton was sure. It was a little less pushy that way.
Easton took it in, let the words sit in her head while she sipped her margarita. “I suppose that’s possible. Maybe.”
“He’s a good guy, E. Give him the benefit of the doubt.”
“I know. You’re right.”
“Speaking of dating, any news on that front?”
Easton scoffed. “When would I have time? I’ve got a full-time job, a seven-year-old, and now a night class.”
Shondra snort-laughed in sarcastic response. “Bitch, please.”
Easton gasped, feigned horror. “Excuse me?”
“What, do you think anybody who’s ever dated has had a free and clear schedule? No jobs, no kids, no extracurricular activities? Just,” she mimicked Easton from earlier and made air quotes, “time for dating?”
“Gah! I know. I know.” Easton covered her eyes with one hand and made a sound similar to a growl. “I hate when you’re right.”
“Then you must hate me always.” Shondra pushed playfully at Easton’s leg with a foot. “Seriously, though. Is this hot instructor of yours gay? Maybe you should see if you can get to know her a bit more.”
Easton shook her head, shrugged in defeat. “How the hell should I know? And how do I find out? I have no idea how to do that. Is there a guidebook or something? Rules to follow? I’m so far out of my element here, Shondra.”
They laughed then, like junior high girls having a sleepover, but no answers magically appeared.
It was much later that night, as Easton lay in bed trying to sleep, too keyed up from the Diet Coke she’d switched to after the margaritas—thanks, caffeine!—when her brain returned to that bit of conversation.
Easton was gay. She’d known for a long time, but had been woefully slow in accepting it. Thus, marriage to her high school boyfriend, a child, a house in the suburbs, her happy parents. She’d done a pretty good job of destroying all those things aside from her child in one fell swoop, that was for sure. Her parents’ heads were still spinning.
What if Bella is gay?
That question had stayed with her since Shondra posed it. It had faded a bit into the background as they laughed and teased and discussed other things. In quiet moments, like driving home with a sleeping Emma in the back seat; like now, it stepped into the spotlight and waved to her.
She had no idea how to do this.
Shondra had suggested an online dating site or two. That scared the bejesus out of Easton, though she had trouble verbalizing why. She could go out to a gay bar, she supposed. That idea was less scary and Shondra said she’d happily tag along. But other than those two things, how would she know if a woman “played on her team,” as Shondra liked to call it? Easton wasn’t an idiot. She could sometimes tell. But not always. What if she thought somebody was and she wasn’t? That was an actual fear that lived in the back of her mind. Being new to something when you were in your thirties wasn’t the most relaxing thing on the planet.
She inhaled a big breath, filled her lungs to capacity, and held it for a count of five. As she let it out slowly, she willed her body to relax, her muscles to melt down into the mattress. It was an old yoga trick she’d learned for when she had trouble falling asleep. Tomorrow was Sunday, true, but Emma didn’t yet understand the meaning of the phrase “sleep in,” and would be up by seven, demanding breakfast.
A turn of her head told Easton it was nearly one a.m., so she did the breathing exercise once more, concentrated on relaxing, letting go of the tension. As she did so, a face filled her mind’s eye. Bella. Smooth, creamy skin, freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose, a few rogue locks of dark hair escaping her ponytail and framing her face, those hazel eyes, the dark brows accenting them as they seemed to catch everything…
Wow. Had she really looked at Bella that closely? She must have if she had these intricate details, but she didn’t remember doing so. At all. How weird was that?
Try as she might, her brain now would not focus on anything but that pretty face. She forced herself not to think about the rest of Bella because then she’d never get any sleep, would probably wake up even more. So she compromised, and instead of fighting it, she let her thoughts settle on her instructor. On her face.
Only her face.
It was more than enough to deliver very, very pleasant dreams.
Chapter Six
Framerton High, 2003
“Hey, 1994 called. It wants its pants back.”
The new girl kept her head down, but not before Easton saw a flash of pain zip across her face, and in that instant, Easton was sorry she’d laughed with the rest of them, stopped abruptly, and swallowed any sound left.
“Why do you have to be so mean to her?” she asked Tara, voice low. She didn’t want the guys to hear, but she didn’t understand. Yes, Easton went along with it 99 percent of the time because that’s what people her age did, right? Peer pressure and all that crap? But she didn’t really understand the joy Tara seemed to get from making somebody else—somebody she didn’t even know—feel awful.
“Why not?” Tara shrugged and grinned as she switched out her notebooks and slammed the locker shut. “Besides, she dresses like a fucking homeless person.” She made a show of shuddering like her skin was crawling.
Easton let it go and said nothing more. She didn’t really like Tara, but she was pretty much the queen bee around Framerton High, and the last thing Easton wanted was to ever end up on her shit list. She’d seen the destruction that came with it. Just look at that poor new girl—what was her name again?—and she hadn’t even done anything wrong. All she did was exist, but that seemed to be enough for Tara. If Easton had the audacity to correct Tara, or worse, embarrass her in front of their friends, she couldn’t even imagine the punishment she’d have to endure. Really, it was just easier to go along. She knew it was cowardly, but she couldn’t see any other way.
“Hey, did you do the homework for bio?” Connor interrupted her thoughts to ask the same question he asked her almost every day. He hated bio. Worse, he didn’t get bio.
Lucky for him, Easton did. She slid a sheet of paper out of her notebook without responding and handed it to him.
“You’re the best, babe.” He gave her a quick peck on the lips, then spun her around so he could copy her answers onto his own paper using her back as a makeshift desk. Easton didn’t really mind. Connor was a good guy, but he struggled in some of his classes, and if he wanted to stay on the football team, he needed to keep his grades up. Easton was happy to help him with that.
As she stood, doing her best impression of a piece of furniture, Easton let her eyes wander over the others in the hall. Bodies moved along as if made of water, flowing together in one direction or the other, moving along to their next classes, the hum of conversation like the buzzing of bees in a hive, steady and constant. Her eye caught the waves of auburn hair coming down the hall before anything else and Easton watched as Kristin Harrington threw her head back and laughed loudly, her throat exposed, at something Josh Danforth said to her. Easton’s eyes roamed along the creamy expanse of skin as she wondered if it would feel as soft as it looked, how it would taste…
“Done.” Connor’s voice jerked her back to reality. Thank freaking God. She swallowed down the lump of…what was it? Shame? Embarrassment? Want?
No. No, not that last one. Not want. Never want. That was silly. Wh
y would she even think that? So what if she looked at Kristin? The girl was pretty. Everybody thought so. It didn’t mean anything other than Easton could appreciate an attractive girl. Okay, she had a dream about her the night before. So what? Who cared? Dreams didn’t really mean anything, even if there happened to be the tiniest bit of making out in them. Just a tiny, itty-bitty bit of making out. Miniscule amounts of making out. With tongue.
Didn’t. Mean. Anything.
“Ready?”
Easton looked up into Connor’s blue eyes. He was such a good guy, and she was so lucky to have him. He was handsome and funny and kind. True, he could also be loud and obnoxious, like most guys. And once in a while, he could be a complete douchebag. But who—? Her thoughts were interrupted when she was knocked into, almost to the point of losing her balance.
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry, Easton.”
Kristin Harrington had her hand on Easton’s arm, her grip firm. Warm. Helping to steady her. A wave of…something shot through Easton’s body like fire, fast and hot, and she opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
“My bad,” Kristin said, then continued on her way, Josh Danforth still doing what he could to entertain her.
Easton followed their retreat with her eyes, and that lump was back in her throat. She cleared it away, turned to Connor, reached up, and pulled his face down to hers. She kissed him, made sure it was inarguably an R-rated kiss that left him blinking in shocked wonder.
“Wow,” he stammered. “What was that for?”
Sliding her hand down his arm, she linked her fingers with his and tugged him toward their classroom. “Come on. We’re gonna be late.”
Take that, Kristin Harrington.
***
“Excellent.” Bella was impressed. “Absolutely perfect.” Easton had handled the role-playing exercise deftly, listening to her “employee,” making her point in a kind way that invited discussion. She didn’t get frustrated. She didn’t talk down to him. She couldn’t have done a better job. Yeah, Bella was impressed and, not for the first time, was clear on the fact that what her boss had been told by the Hart Commodities rep was true—Easton didn’t really need to be there. Nor did a couple others…which wasn’t to say all of them. There were two or three who were definitely going to benefit from this class.
“All right, that’s it for tonight. Don’t forget to go to our website and take a look at the videos we have there on dealing with employees whose personalities clash with each other. That’s always a fun one.” Chuckles went around the room as people gathered their things. “We’ll discuss that next week.” She watched as her students trickled out one by one.
It had been a busy day. She’d seen several clients, including the young man devastated by his breakup with his girlfriend, the forty-year-old woman who’d had an abortion and was unable to forgive herself, and the twenty-five-year-old CEO whose crazy successful business had given her a major identity crisis. Exhausting enough, those people, but she’d also had a staff meeting, lunch with her boss, and a committee meeting, gone home to give Lucy and Ethel dinner, and then sped back here for class. Normally, Bella would be wiped by now, but she was inexplicably…awake.
“Hey, do you maybe feel like grabbing a cup of coffee?”
Easton’s voice surprised her, and when Bella looked up from her things, she realized there were just the two of them left in the room.
Easton scrunched up her nose. “I’m kinda keyed up. Not sure why.” With a shrug, she added, “I just don’t feel like going home yet. I mean, if it’s against any rules or anything, I understand. I just…” She shrugged and repeated herself. “I’m not ready to go home.”
God, she’s pretty. That was always the first thought that hit Bella’s brain whenever she laid eyes on Easton Evans. From the very first day she’d ever seen her. Everything about her was just…pretty. Pleasing to the eye. Her shining hair in at least three varying shades of gold. Her enormously expressive blue eyes, accented with dark lashes and surprisingly dark brows. Her very feminine hands. Her warm, inviting smile. She wore a pantsuit today, gray with a pink top underneath the jacket, black heels, some of her hair pulled back and the rest down, sitting in gentle waves on her shoulders. God, she’s pretty.
Easton Evans. Part of the dreaded Crap Pack (Bella’s own play on Brat Pack) at Framerton High.
Of course, she didn’t want to go to coffee with this woman.
That was a terrible idea.
Absolutely not.
“That sounds great,” were the words that actually came out of her mouth, and she tried valiantly to hide her own horror at the sound of them.
“Awesome.” Easton’s face lit up, her smile wide and gorgeous. Okay, so Bella’s answer had obviously made her happy, and that made Bella happy…something she tried to ignore and she certainly didn’t analyze in any way. “Are you familiar with Perk? Just around the corner?”
“Are you kidding? I practically live there. Why don’t you go ahead? I have to drop some things in my office and give my email a quick check. Then I’ll meet you. Yeah?”
Easton continued to smile as she nodded. “Perfect. I’ll save you a seat. See you in a bit.”
On her way down the hall to her office, Bella texted Amy and Heather in their three-way chat.
Mayday! Mayday! I’ve made a huge mistake! Save me!
Twins texts of What happened? were returned in under a minute.
About to have coffee with the Blast from the Past. Am I crazy?
Enough time went by this time to let her toss her stuff in her office and click open her email before a response came. It was Amy.
Is that a real question?
LOL, Amy, from Heather.
You guys. I’m serious. What am I doing?
Amy played the role of Voice of Reason. You’re going to have coffee with a new friend. It’s fine. No need to freak out.
Agreed, from Heather.
Sigh. Fine. H, you’re wordy today. She was usually the one with all the advice.
Sorry. Busy. I agree with A. Have the coffee. It’s just coffee. This text was followed by three coffee cup emojis, apparently to make up for the lack of words earlier.
Since nobody else seemed concerned about this impending coffee meeting—she refused to refer to it as a date—Bella decided to do her best to just chill. Besides, Perk had an amazing hazelnut French roast and Bella was more than ready for a cup.
The evening weather was typical for May. Cool, but with that feel in the air that inexplicably said spring was here and summer was well on its way. Bella could still detect the smell of late-blooming hyacinths around the office building and there was a new freshness in the air that forced her to breathe in deeply and slowly, as if it wasn’t her decision at all.
Perk wasn’t terribly busy on a Wednesday night after eight, with just a smattering of customers scattered around the shop. Bella spotted Easton easily—seriously, how do you miss somebody who looks like that?—in the little sitting area, parked comfortably on a soft-looking love seat. She waved to Bella, big orange mug halfway to her lips, and shot her that damn smile. Bella found herself suddenly in a hurry to get her coffee and sit next to Easton. Yeah, what was that about? That urgency? Never mind. She didn’t want to know. She was pretty sure of that.
“You made it,” Easton said unnecessarily, as Bella took a seat next to her. The love seat made them sit closer together than Bella would have normally, and Easton’s scent tickled her nostrils, a subtle perfume of gentle sweetness with just a hint of spice to it.
“I did.” Bella tried to settle into the cushions but was unable to fully relax. Something about being this close to Easton tensed her up like a cat on alert.
“Do you come here often?” Both of them seemed to hear the question at the same time, and Easton’s cheeks were suddenly a pretty shade of pink. “I didn’t mean…” She stuttered a bit and Bella couldn’t help but smile. “It’s just that your office is really close.” Easton closed her eyes. “God.” She bl
ushed more deeply.
Bella touched her knee, still smiling. She couldn’t help it. Easton in the throes of embarrassment was kind of cute. “Don’t worry. It’s been ages since anybody asked me that, so I’ll take it, even if it was just an innocent question. I should come here often, but I don’t. I forget how close I am.”
“Well, that’s a shame. The coffee is excellent.”
They each sipped their coffee, eyes gazing over the rims of their mugs at each other, and Bella had a sudden, inexplicable feeling of contentment, like she was right where she was supposed to be.
Weird. So very, very weird.
“How old is your daughter?” Bella’s need to make Easton feel more comfortable was strong, so she grabbed at the topic she thought Easton would be most happy discussing in the hopes of shifting the focus. It worked. Easton’s face lit up, her smile widening, her gorgeous eyes crinkling a bit at the corners.
“She’s seven going on thirty-five.”
Bella laughed. “She was great with my dog.”
“She was, wasn’t she?” Easton sipped, her gaze in the middle distance. “She’s always loved animals and has wanted a dog since she was old enough to know what a dog was.”
“Sounds like your ex thinks it’s time? I heard him say something about that.”
Easton’s grin slipped a bit, and her eyes refocused on her coffee. “Yeah. It’s fine. It’ll make her happy.”
“How long have you been separated?” Bella kept her voice soft, knowing she was approaching very personal territory, but somehow needing this information. She didn’t understand it.
“Almost two years. We got married right after college and had Emma pretty soon after that.” Easton’s voice was almost wistful, like she was recalling happier, easier times. Then she seemed to sober as she added, “My divorce was finalized last week.”
“Why did you split up? I mean, if it’s okay to ask. Feel free to tell me it’s none of my business. ’Cause it’s not. I know.”
The Do-Over Page 6
