by Ava Claire
“I see Hunter is being inappropriate with the visitors again,” Ashton quipped, crossing her arms.
Hunter jutted out her chin. “Hey! My signature charm is the reason I’m the face of the Admissions office.” She beamed at me. “Besides, your best friend is a little more than a ‘visitor.’”
“Just a tiny bit,” Ashton smiled, practically running over to me. She pulled me into a hug that told me she had felt my absence, too.
I squeezed her right back. I was still playing coy with the nonprofit, but I’d already made up my mind. I was going to accept the job and crash with Ashton until I found my own place.
“Heya stranger,” I whispered. I took a tiny step back, scanning her for new ink
She read my mind and turned around, lowering her head a few notches. There was an infinity sign at the base of her neck. The she whipped back around, gripping my arm as she took off her shoe. She flexed her foot so I could see the bottom. On the sole of her left foot was a Technicolor bug with green goo oozing out of its colorful body.
“Two new ones since I last saw you,” she grinned proudly.
“Nice,” I nodded enthusiastically. I only had one. ‘Breathe’ was etched behind my left ear. It hurt like hell, so it was my first and last tattoo. I’d just have to live vicariously through Ash.
Hunter cleared her throat behind us, and I realized that the girl who had been talking about partying in foreign countries was now watching us with fascination. If her mother was wearing pearls, she’d probably be clutching them.
“Let’s go back to my office,” Ash murmured, looping her arm through mine.
We stepped into her domain and I felt like I was back in her bedroom in Rhoades, but everything had an edge of sophistication now. There wasn’t a tattered, creased poster of David Bowie tacked to the wall near her bed. Instead, there was his silhouette and a quote, surrounded by a striking black frame. The pillows that used to be scattered all over her room were as bright as I remembered, but now they were perched delicately and in their place on a blood-red chaise. She had a pretty similar desk back in high school, but back then it was barely visible amid the junk and covered with band stickers. Today, her vintage black desk had ornate legs and her desktop was organized, complete with a sleek silver computer and a red and black folder system.
“Nice digs,” I commented, hesitating before I made my way to a chevron printed armchair in front of her desk. “I’m gonna have to cut back on my hoarding ways so I don’t junk up your place.”
“Don’t believe the hype,” Ashton assured me with a chuckle, plopping into her seat with a sigh. “This place just looks presentable because I’m sure potential students and parents would frown on dirty clothes, empty Starbucks cups, and vibrators all over the place.”
“What have I gotten myself into?” I gasped, my eyes bulging with faux horror.
“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t walk around naked. I’ll wear pasties and G-strings, of course.”
I settled in the seat with a clipped giggle, my eyes following the lines of the nameplate on her desk. She’d only been working full-time for the college for a year and she’d already been promoted to Head of Admissions. She was building a career, a legacy, and I’d been working part-time here and there, at any nonprofit that would have me, since graduation. She was moving forward, no, blazing forward, and I was stuck somewhere between neutral and drive. I couldn’t even handle seeing a billboard with my ex’s name on it without crumbling.
“You saw the billboard.”
I tore my eyes from her desk and dropped them to my peeling nails. “You mean that eyesore off of Hillsborough street?” I shrugged both shoulders and set in on my thumbnail. Bits of scarlet nail polish rained onto my lap.
“That brave face you’re putting on? Save it for your family. I’m your best friend, and I know it got under your skin because every time I drive past it, I’m tempted to climb up and deface it.”
I snapped my chin upward. “You’d commit a crime for me?”
“In a heartbeat.” Her emerald eyes glinted mischievously. “Hopefully, you’ll pay my bail.”
“In a heartbeat.” I smiled. The smile was short-lived because the mere mention of anything Lincoln related was like some stink bomb going off, filling the room with toxic fumes. But that suffocating feeling, drowning in the anger that made me shake and claw for the surface, wasn’t nearly as debilitating as the slew of the good stuff that came rushing back too. He had made me feel that words like ‘love’ and ‘beauty’ and ‘forever’ were made for me. For us.
All the nights we’d stayed up, the hours spilling into morning, talking about everything from our family, to the places we’d visit, to the way we’d use our energy and resources to change the world, replayed in my mind. Everything seems bigger when you’re in love: colors are more brilliant, touch is more powerful, and the future is as expansive as a globe, with infinite possibilities. Then in one swoop, the bottom fell out of my world. And even though he left some bullshit letter and had reached out to me over the years through texts and emails, no amount of reading his words explained a damn thing. It didn’t make the pain go away.
“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” Ashton asked warily, her chair squeaking as she scooted closer. Her eyes told me there was only one acceptable answer. If I wanted to be coddled, I’d come to the wrong place. “You can not let Lincoln Carraway take this opportunity away from you. This job? It’s a chance for you to do what you’ve always wanted to do. Help kids-”
“I know-”
“And he certainly hasn’t lost any sleep over what happened.”
She didn’t mince her words or pull any punches and even though hearing it was hard, I nodded in agreement.
“You’re right.” I swallowed my bitterness. “I’m going to take the job.”
“Oh, you can do better than that,” she scoffed, crossing her arms like some merciless personal trainer. “Say it like you mean it. Like you deserve it.”
“I’m going to take the job.”
“Louder!”
I gripped the arms of the chair. “I’m gonna take the job!”
“Damn straight.” She opened one of her drawers and pulled out a key and handed it to me. “Make yourself at home, okay? When I get off, we’ll go get drinks and celebrate.”
I thanked her and left the office after getting a high five from Hunter, of course.
I was ready for the next chapter.
****
I cruised into the parking lot for Make A Change LLC, not hiding my surprise. The pictures on the website broadcasted nice facilities, but this? This was gorgeous. The building couldn’t be more than a few years old, glass windows and shiny metal glittering like some post-modern architect’s wet dream.
I checked the address again just to make sure. Yup. Once I stepped out of my car and moved toward the revolving door, Make A Change LLC glimmered above the entrance.
I cycled through, spilling into a lobby with marble floors and natural light bouncing off of walls covered with pop art. A group of kids gathered around an interactive display. Straight ahead was a reception desk. I’d been so worried I’d be out of place, expecting business suits and icy AC to match the receptionist’s icy attitude. Instead, she popped up from her seat, her dreads bouncing with every step as she made her way to me. She was in a Make A Change LLC t-shirt and black slacks, her Chucks squeaking on the floor. A gust of air hit me in the back and another volley of laughter erupted as more children skipped over to where the others were playing some counting game with a computer display.
“Hi!” She jutted out her hand, a spiked bracelet catching the light as I accepted it. “I’m Rosa. You must be Catherine.”
Before I could frown or look down at my chest for some nametag that I knew didn’t exist, she explained.
“I recognize you from the paperwork. I ran the background check.” She nodded her head in the direction of the gaggle of children. “Brand new tech we just got in. Completely immersive and th
e kids love it, even the ones who learned to count forever ago.”
I watched them for a moment, counting and clapping and singing with the projection. They were learning, and even I wanted to go over and count the images that popped out of thin air.
“Ready for the tour?” Rosa asked brightly. She returned to the desk and hit a button. The display on the wall read that she was giving a tour and to hit the assistance button if you needed help. She dug into a jar of Hershey’s Kisses and handed me several caramel ones that were the same color as her skin. “We’ll stop in the lounge upstairs and grab something to drink.” She was moving at the speed of light and talking a million miles a minute. “What’s your drink of choice? We have coffee, hot and iced tea, guava juice, and orange juice.” She cast a grin over her shoulder. “Once the little ones go home, we bust out the good stuff. Beer, wine, even champagne if you’re feeling fancy.”
My head was spinning and I struggled to stay in step with her, my boots gliding from marble to hardwood floor as the elevator took us to the second floor. I followed her down the corridor. The walls were lined with all the projects the organization spearheaded, from hunger relief to issues abroad, helping refugees and children in areas of the world where heartbreaking circumstances made children grow up far too soon...if they even got the chance to live past their 10th birthday. I paused at Backpacks for Change, the bright blue letters trumpeting that a backpack was more than just that. The program provided educational assistance to at-risk youth: tutoring, after school help, and mentorship programs to inspire and motivate kids to work hard and shoot for the stars.
This building, all the resources that were clearly on hand, was overwhelming. My eyes swam with emotion when I remembered the nonprofits I worked at in the past. Home base was generally in the neighborhoods we served, in buildings as dilapidated as the places the kids and their families called home, complete with bars on the windows. This place shined like some mirage in the desert. No bars, no security guard on hand to make sure the good work we were trying to do wasn’t deterred by theft, vandalism, or worst.
I didn’t realize I’d stopped until Rosa cleared her throat.
“Everything okay?”
When I shook from my stupor and glanced back at her, I saw genuine concern.
I blinked away the tears and stretched my lips into a smile. A sad one, but a smile nonetheless. “I can’t believe I’ll get to work here.” I nearly burst into tears when children’s laughter followed us from the lobby. “In the past, the organizations I worked for were pinching pennies and plugging leaks in funding with Band-Aids.”
“No Band-Aids here.” Rosa put a kind hand on my shoulder. “Just a group of people that want to make the world a better place.” She released me and turned into the next door on her right.
Excitement for what came next propelled me forward. It was a break room, though using that word seemed inadequate at best. The break rooms I’d experienced had peeling linoleum, countertops and tables in need of TLC, and cabinets missing knobs. The tables were tiny and the chairs were far from comfortable and if there was a TV, it had stopped working long ago.
Like the lobby and the halls, the room sparkled and gleamed. I felt like I was in an IKEA showroom. Every piece of furniture was luxurious. There was a modular sofa, a bonafide indoor rock garden complete with a wall of water that trickled over smooth pebbles, and carefully curated tables and comfy chairs. No expense was spared.
My eyes took in every square inch with glee and wonder. This place would be my new-
My gaze stopped hard when I hit the bar area. The bar top stretched in a square formation, stools nestled in place. There was an espresso machine, the smell of ground espresso beans and brewing coffee filling me with warmth. And when I saw the man behind the bar, I was filled with something else: lust.
Even from behind, he was something to behold. He had on a black leather jacket with a charcoal gray hoodie. On anyone else, it would have looked juvenile, hipster even. Like someone emulating ‘rugged’ based on what they saw in a magazine or on some TV show. This guy was all man, all testosterone with his broad shoulders and jeans that gripped an ass that I was dying to grip.
Realizing that I was staring at some stranger’s behind, my eyes shot up to tamer territory, but his dark wavy hair was even more dangerous. It was just long enough that he could do that man-bun thing that was all the rage. But nothing about this man was forced. He didn’t follow trends; he made his own. His dark locks were wild and free.
I hadn’t even seen his face, but I knew he was trouble. With a capital T. Which meant I was in trouble, because if I wasn’t sure I was gonna take the job before, well, I was positive now.
“Oh! Mr. Carraway, I didn’t know you were on site today.”
I gasped.
No.
NO.
The allure, that instant draw...I should have known. It had only happened once before when I was partnered with the hottest guy at Rhoades High in Advanced Chem.
He turned from the espresso machine and I stopped breathing.
Lincoln Carraway smiled at me like a wolf about to rip out the throat of its prey.
“Welcome to Make A Change, Catherine.”
Chapter Three
I had two options.
I could stand in the break room, gaping at him like he was an apparition from a past I was desperately trying to move on from...or I could accept the fact that for some unknown reason, Lincoln Carraway was here.
In the flesh. In the very sexy flesh.
The last time I’d been this close to him was the night before the wedding. I’d snuck into his bedroom, saying to hell with that whole ‘bad luck seeing the bride before the big day’ thing. He’d been asleep, his handsome face serene, frozen perfection. His hair was cropped short back then, except for the front where a tangle of dark curls spilled across his forehead. I could have stood there for hours, watching him, and I knew that made me a hypocrite because I was one of those people who thought that it was completely odd when Edward watched Bella sleep in Twilight. In that moment, caressing every contour of his face, I got the appeal. I wanted to watch over him, protect him, lay down my life for him. All those things and feelings I thought were only found in fiction.
I’d wanted to kiss him.
So I’d leaned down and pressed my lips against his quivering ones. He’d stirred, his eyelids fluttering like some winged creature. When his sleepy gray eyes had adjusted and locked on me, he whispered, “Hey you.”
I’d clutched him then, burying my tongue between his lips, so filled with love, so delirious by the fact that I’d get to wake up next to him for the rest of my life that when I stopped to breathe, I exhaled, “I love you.”
“You must because my breath reeks,” he’d laughed. “And I must love you because I was having the best dream and I don’t even care that you woke me up. Me, you, and Adriana Lima were on a deserted island...”
Reality cruelly brought me back to now. The dream was done. I ignored that playful gleam in his eyes and the charm that dripped from his smile.
I squared my jaw. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Rosa stepped up beside me. I didn’t let my eyes leave Lincoln because, like every snake, you had to keep your eye on them or they’d bite you right in the ass.
A flash of want flickered through my groin at the thought of Lincoln biting my ass, but I squashed it dead.
“Catherine, what in the world? Uh...” Rosa was at a loss for words, but her hand on my shoulder this time was less friendly and more ‘What the hell?’
I didn’t back down from me and Lincoln’s staring contest.
“I asked you a question,” I snarled, and shrugged off Rosa’s hand.
The slightest bit of worry dimmed his smile but he was otherwise unfazed, reaching for a silver container and a jug of milk.
“Would you like a cappuccino?” He bit his lip in the sexiest way as he carefully poured in the milk, like he was working on a masterpiece and the sli
ghtest misstep would spell catastrophe. “If memory serves, you like yours wet.”
I couldn’t stop the blush from invading my cheeks. “Listen, you son of a-”
“Catherine!” Rosa hissed. She stepped between us like a referee, though it was clear who the offending party was. Well, it was clear if you didn’t have the whole story. To the unaware, Lincoln was just being friendly and I was foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog.
Bringing up our sordid past, especially when I didn’t have all the pieces (like, why the hell Lincoln was playing barista at my new job), was the last thing I wanted to do. I drew a breath and finally made eye contact with Rosa. Her face was flushed and her eyes wide with confusion and embarrassment. Poor woman. She was probably wondering what she’d missed, because clearly I was insane.
The petty part of me rushed to the surface. It was the part that wanted to Hulk out every time I saw Lincoln’s smirk at the newsstand, or call into whatever show was singing his praises for whatever magic he’d performed and turned water into liquid gold. I wanted the world to see the Lincoln I knew. He was a selfish, afraid, good-for-nothing boy. He didn’t even have the balls to end things to my face.
I’d believed in happily ever after...then he burned our fairytale to the ground.
But I wouldn’t have a mental break right here. He didn’t deserve to watch me lose my mind.
I held my composure and forced two words from behind clenched teeth. “We’ve met.”
Rosa blanched, looking back and forth between the two of us, still confused. I was fuming. Lincoln was drawing designs in the foam and elevating my blood pressure by the second.
“I-I don’t understand,” she stammered.
“Rosa, do you mind giving us a moment?” Lincoln set his cloudy, hypnotizing eyes on her.
I scoffed when she all but let out a sigh and snapped to follow his command.
“Don’t worry, I’ll give Catherine a thorough tour of the facilities,” he assured her when she glanced back at me.
