One Wrong Move (Kelley University Book 2)

by Meredith St. James

  "I don't want to think about that, much less talk about it."

  He didn't let up. "Do you think he'd know she was his daughter? Like, if he ever happened to run into her on the street?"

  "I'm sure he'd be too drunk to recognize his own reflection, much less recognize the kid he's never met."

  "But what if he wasn't drunk?"

  My stomach churned. I kneeled so that I could put Stella on her feet. "Hey, baby? Mommy's getting ready to leave for work. I'll miss you." I kissed the top of her head, inhaling that sweet baby scent that still lingered on her skin. "Why don't you go hide and let Uncle Vinnie find you?"

  Stella answered with an enthusiastic nod and wide eyes.

  After she'd run from the room, I turned back to Vinnie. "We don't play the what-if game anymore, Vin. And especially not in front of Stella." The toddler may have been quiet, but I'd learned the hard way that she was like a little sponge when it came to soaking up what other people were saying.

  "I know that." He leaned against the doorframe.

  I didn't have time to investigate why he looked so agitated. My eyes scanned the room for the burgundy colored waist apron I'd been issued. I ignored the way Vinnie's eyes followed me around the room until I finally found it folded under a stack of paperwork on my dresser.

  "Gabby would probably burst into tears if she saw what a mess your room already is," Vinnie teased.

  Relieved that he was letting the other topic go, I turned to him and grinned. "And I still haven't even unpacked two-thirds of my boxes."

  "You should try harder to get to know her."

  "I know her," I protested. Vinnie's left eyebrow shot up. "I know her well enough," I grumbled.

  "If you'd make a little effort I think you'd discover the two of you are more alike than you realize. And Ronnie, you could really use someone in your corner. This place is a lot different than we're used to."

  That was one hell of an understatement. The day before, a woman at the grocery store had asked what pre-schools I'd toured so far for my daughter—my daughter who had only turned two a few months earlier. Apparently, Kelley mothers started touring pre-schools the second their pregnancy test read positive. It was a far cry from the small town we'd lived in before, where Stella had been dubbed a child prodigy for not trying to eat the fish bait when we went camping.

  "Gabby is fine. We get along fine," I insisted, despite how weak the words sounded to my own ears.

  "Mhm." He didn't look convinced, rightly so.

  I dodged around him, pulling the bedroom door closed behind me. As much as I liked messing with Gabby's control-freak personality, I didn't want to give the poor woman a heart attack. She really would freak if she saw my room. And I needed her alive if she was going to keep watching Stella for me.

  "Ronnie?" he stopped me just before I'd reached the front doors. "I was serious about needing to talk to you."

  "Is it something bad?"

  He nodded solemnly.

  "Then can it please wait until this weekend? I'm not even settled in here yet, and now I'm starting this new job. I'm not ready to handle any bad news."

  Vinnie looked like he was prepared to argue when Gabby stepped up behind him. "Vinnie, don't make Veronica late on her first day. Whatever it is, it can wait."

  I sent a grateful smile in her direction. There was no use trying to outrun bad news, but that didn't mean I couldn't put it off until later.

  Travis

  Having an unlimited amount of free time wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Barely two weeks into the summer, I found myself aimlessly wandering around campus. Summer classes hadn't actually started yet, which meant no one was all that keen to be hanging out around there any sooner than they had to.

  "Travis?"

  I jerked in the direction of Laurel's voice, surprised to hear her calling out my name. She wasn't usually the friendly type. The only reason the two of us even knew each other was because my best friend Wren had worked with her at the university's tutoring center. She wasn't even remotely someone I'd consider hanging out with. Usually.

  Desperate times called for desperate measures.

  "I thought that was you." She smiled, and it looked completely out-of-place on her.

  "It's me," I confirmed like an idiot. "Didn't you graduate?"

  "Yes, of course. I'm working here this summer, though."

  "Really? Doing what?" I didn't want to sound so shocked, but I'd fully expected a woman like Laurel to be off in some fancy job in the city by then. Sticking around the university seemed like an odd choice for her.

  "It's a long story." She waved her hand in the air as if to wave the topic away. Another unfamiliar gesture from her. Normally, she was so poised and calm. She seemed a little frazzled.

  "Is everything okay?"

  Her too-wide smile wavered. "I just didn't realize how lonely campus was gonna end up being this summer. Most of the people I know graduated and moved on already. The other people I know aren't exactly foaming at the mouth to spend time with me." Her cheeks flushed to a just barely noticeable hue.

  "Fuck, I know what you mean. Why the hell haven't the summer students started showing up yet? It's like they're hiding them away or something. I swear I expected more people to be around."

  "It's like a ghost town around here," she agreed with a nod.

  Having someone else in the same boat as me was a relief, even if it was only Laurel. At least she was someone I knew. I turned an idea over in my head.

  "Do you want to…" I cleared my throat of the embarrassment that was building up and tried again. "Do you want to hang out?"

  "Really?" Laurel's eyes narrowed, almost as if she thought I was only playing a joke on her.

  "Yeah."

  She looked around like she was expecting Ashton Kutcher to pop out himself to tell her she was being Punk'd. When she looked back at me—sans any sign of Ashton—her whole body looked more relaxed than I'd ever seen her.

  "I'd really like that," she admitted.

  "Are you busy now?"

  "Not really." She shrugged sheepishly. "I was just gonna go hang around at the library until someone took pity on me and gave me something to do."

  "Let's go to The Burgundy."

  Her forehead creased with concern. "I've never been there."

  That wasn't exactly a shocking revelation. The Burgundy was the least pretentious bar within driving distance of the university. Something about Laurel told me the place would be good for her, though. She needed to loosen up a little. A lot, actually.

  "It's great. They have the best bar food, and I don't drink, but I've been told the drinks are great, too."

  I'd fully expected her to comment on me saying I didn't drink, but she mercifully let that one go. "Do they have hot wings? Because this might surprise you, but I really, really like hot wings."

  "If you'll agree to walk the five-minute trip there with me, then I'll introduce you to the best damn hot wings you've ever tasted."

  I wasn't kidding about that, either. Hazel—the lady that owned the place—had the greatest damn hot wings recipe known to man. I'd even tried sweet-talking her into giving it to me on more than one occasion.

  "Do you think I need to change first?" Laurel glanced down at her blue button-down, which was tucked into a knee-length skirt. I had a funny feeling that those clothes were probably as dressed down as she ever got. I'd only stress her out if I asked her to wear something less nice.

  "The Burgundy will serve you no matter what you're wearing," I promised. Literally, they had a sign on the door that said that.

  The relief on her face made me glad that I hadn't suggested otherwise.

  "Lead the way, then." She beamed up at me, and for the first time, I wondered if I'd made a mistake.

  The last thing I needed was to give Laurel the wrong idea. She was acting nice enough, but she wasn't even remotely my type. She was way too buttoned up for me. I was like the antithesis of the typical Kelley University student, and Laurel was the opp
osite. I knew enough about her to know that she was blue-blooded all the way through. I could only imagine what a woman like that would think if I told her about my own history.

  "I heard Wren went traveling for the summer," Laurel spoke up after a few minutes of walking in silence.

  I smiled fondly at the mention of my best friend. "Yeah, her and Carter. She called yesterday to tell me about hanging out in downtown Tokyo."

  "Tokyo, huh? That sounds exotic." She didn't sound all that impressed, but to her, any sort of tourist destination probably didn't rank as very impressive. "Do you like to travel?"

  "If you count the trip from my hometown to here, then sure." Because I'd pretty much never traveled anywhere else. Hell, it had taken me an entire summer of construction work to even afford the used car I'd bought to get from Tennessee to New York.

  "Oh." She fell quiet again, and it made me feel guilty. I was, after all, the one who'd invited her to hang out.

  "What about you? Any favorite destinations?"

  She launched into a long-winded description of some place I'd never heard of. I didn't understand most of what she was talking about, but I caught the words "skiing" and "lodge" used repeatedly. So, I gathered it was someplace snowy.

  Her voice filled the air between us the rest of the way to the bar. The familiar sign out front announced, "The Burgundy" in deep red letters. The parking lot was nearly empty, as I'd expected. I held the door open for Laurel on the way in.

  "Well, if it isn't my very favorite customer!" Hazel exclaimed the second she turned from behind the bar and caught a look at me coming in. If she was surprised by my impromptu companion, she didn't show it.

  A lazy grin broke out on my lips as the robust woman moved out from around the bar towards us. The gray curls piled high on her head swayed with a life of their own as she moved. "I'm not sure you ought to be yelling that when you've got other customers around." She shot a quick, dismissive look towards the few people seated at the bar.

  "Bunch of drunks, the lot of them," she joked. "A good thing, too, since they keep me in business."

  Hazel ushered the two of us towards a corner booth. Laurel sat on the side by the wall, her eyes scanning over the rest of the room as she took it all in. I sat across from her, careful not to let our legs brush under the table.

  "What do you want to drink, sweetie?" Hazel asked Laurel.

  Laurel pursed her lips as she glanced at me.

  "Feel free to drink," I told her, relieving her of the unspoken question.

  Her eyes swung to Hazel. "Cosmo?" she requested, though her voice rose at the end of the word as if it was more of a question than a request.

  "Coming right up."

  As Hazel sashayed away, Laurel looked confused. "She didn't take your order."

  "I'm a regular. She knows that I always just get a Coke."

  Laurel nodded her understanding and then busied herself looking at the menu that was sitting on the table. It creeped me out to watch her. It looked like she was painstakingly reading every single word on the menu. Almost like she thought she'd be tested on it later. Weird.

  I didn't need to bother looking at a menu, so I pulled my phone out instead. I scrolled through Instagram, doing my best to feel happy for all of my friends and their exciting posts. Wren shoving some authentic looking sushi in her mouth, completely unashamed of how unladylike it looked. Carter posing with Wren in front of a fancy, colorful temple. Even Matty was posting about some fancy tech conference he'd gotten to go to as part of his internship.

  I shot off a quick group text updating them on my current company. No doubt they'd all freak when they found out the most exciting thing I'd done so far with my summer was talk Laurel into hanging out at The Burgundy.

  Leaning back in my seat, I ran a hand over the short haircut that I was still getting used to.

  "Your hair looks good like that." I glanced up to see Laurel staring at me.

  "Thanks."

  "I'm not hitting on you, if that's what you think."

  I held back my grin—barely. "That thought might have crossed my mind."

  "Here's the thing." She leaned forward. "I tracked you down on purpose."

  "Uh…"

  She reached across the table and patted my hand patronizingly. "Gross." She reached into her giant purse and pulled out a flier. "No, I was tracking you down for this."

  She slid the pink sheet of paper across the table towards me. I picked it up and skimmed over the details. I balked when I realized what she was asking for.

  "This isn't really my kind of thing."

  "Maybe you could just think about it?" A flash of irritation crossed her face as if she'd expected me to agree easily.

  "What does this even have to do with you?"

  Her cheeks flushed pink, even beneath the thick layer of makeup she wore. "I'm working in the art center this summer."

  I stared at her a little dumbfounded. The art center was just about the last place I'd ever expect Laurel to be hanging around.

  "And you want me to…" I let my voice trail off.

  "Pose a couple days a week for the figure drawing classes," she finished for me. "It's really not that complicated. And you'd get paid."

  "But I'd be naked."

  Laurel rolled her eyes at me. "Don't tell me you're some kind of prude."

  "Of course not," I said defensively.

  "Great, so you'll do it." She crossed her arms over her chest and let one eyebrow raise as if daring me to challenge her.

  "I'll think about it," I conceded since that seemed easier than arguing.

  "Perfect." She opened her menu back up. "So, maybe we ought to get salads to go with our hot wings? Just to keep things balanced."

  I groaned inwardly. What had I been thinking inviting Laurel out, of all people? The awkwardness of it wasn't even worth the laugh I'd have with my friends about it later.

  Veronica

  I parked behind the building just like Hazel had instructed when she'd hired me. My nerves were getting to me as I tied my apron around my waist while walking towards the back door. I pulled it so tight that I was forced to undo the knot and start over. Starting over was one of my least favorite things, and there I was being forced to do it again.

  Not that I would dare let Vinnie hear me complaining. Most high school football coaches never got the chance to coach at the college level. The job at Kelley was a real chance for Vinnie to prove himself. And because I relied on Vinnie—and Gabby—for so much, that meant I had to pick up and move, too.

  Whether I liked it or not.

  And I didn't.

  "Veronica, is that you?" Hazel's voice called out the second I started to pull the back door open.

  "It's me," I confirmed as I slipped inside.

  A row of metal kitchen equipment greeted me. I dodged around it all as I followed the sounds of splashing water. My mouth dropped open in horror when I came to Hazel standing near the kitchen sink surrounded by a puddle of water.

  "Yeah, there's a bit of a mess I'm afraid." Panic laced her voice when she said, "Oh, shoot—I forgot—Do you think you could figure the bar out for a few minutes without me? I got distracted back here and I still owe the corner booth a Cosmo and a Coke."

  "A Cosmo? Is Carrie Bradshaw sitting in your corner booth? And did walking in through the back door somehow time warp me back to the nineties?"

  I bit my lip to keep from spewing out any more nonsense. Making fun of the customers probably wasn't the best choice for my first day. Hazel surprised me though, bursting out into laughter.

  "I'd say that one's more of a Charlotte than a Carrie."

  "Poor thing." I rested my hand over my heart jokingly. "My sister-in-law is a Charlotte, too."

  A mischievous glint appeared in Hazel's eyes. "I like to think of myself as quite the Samantha. I'm sure I don't need to explain why."

  I choked back a laugh as I pictured Hazel channeling Sex and the City's very own promiscuous cougar. It wasn't hard at all to picture Hazel i
n that role. She had to be in her sixties at least, but she definitely still had plenty of fire in her.

  "Okay, so, Cosmo and Coke," I repeated, just to make sure I'd have the order right.

  After she nodded, I strolled out to the bar and went to work fixing a laughably pink concoction. Despite my apprehension, mixing drinks came easily to me. I fought back the memories of learning to mix drinks on someone's back porch. Gin splashing over the edge of the glass when familiar arms wrapped around me. Lips pressing against the back of my neck. I cleared my throat, doing my best to force those memories back down in the imaginary box where I liked to keep them.

  When the drinks were both set, I grabbed one and each hand and worked my way around the bar towards the corner booth that Hazel had mentioned. It was set just slightly out of view of the bar, so I didn't get a good look at the couple until I was halfway to them. The guy had his back to me, but I had a good view of the girlfriend. She was definitely a prim-and-proper Charlotte-type. She even had a short strand of pearls around her pale neck.

  It was a little much if you asked me.

  As I got closer, I focused my attention on the drinks so that I wouldn't stare at the Gabby look-alike sitting in the booth. "Here y'all go," I announced cheerfully.

  It was just as I started to look up again that a familiar voice spoke, "Veronica?" causing me to stumble over my own feet.

  His hand shot out to help steady me, but I shook him off. He had no right to touch me.

  I felt as if my heart was beating in my throat as I stared uncomfortably at him. Muscles bulged on his body in places I distinctly remembered them not being before. The signature long hair he'd once wore was cropped. The sight of it baffled me so much that I was nearly tempted to reach out and touch it. I wasn't sure I'd have recognized him if it hadn't been for his voice.

  He'd still been a boy when I'd known him. Now, Travis Olson was all man.

  "What are you doing here?" I managed to say in a voice barely above a whisper.

  He reached out and pried the two drinks out of my grasp. It was only then that I realized my hands were shaking. Sticky liquid had slid over the sides of the glasses and wet my fingers. I hid my traitorous hands behind my back, making what was surely a failed attempt to make the jerky motion look casual.