With his temporary distraction no longer an option, Drew headed toward his original destination, Kelsey’s house. Although he called her once every month, he hadn’t visited since Ian’s death. The only reason he intended a visit today was because she hadn’t returned his calls. Occasionally in the past, he’d made his monthly calls and Kelsey hadn’t answered. However, when he left a message, Kelsey always called him back. He’d left a message over a week ago, and still nothing. He’d tried her phone again yesterday but, like his previous call, this one went unanswered, too, leaving him with two options: either ask his mom to check on her or visit Kelsey himself. Asking his mom, though, meant telling her about the promise he’d made to Ian before he passed away. Although unsure as to why he didn’t want to share that with anyone, it left him to check in on her himself.
Drew turned onto Lincoln Street. From the looks of it, not much had changed since his last trip to town well over a year ago. Even though his parents still lived in North Salem, he rarely came back. Instead, his parents and John, his younger brother who still lived in town, visited him, or they got together at his older brother Cody’s house in Ashford, Connecticut. The lack of change didn’t really surprise him. Change came slowly in North Salem. In many ways, the town was the same now as when he’d lived here.
Not exactly the same. If everything were the same Ian would still be alive. Even now, after three years, his friend’s death didn’t seem real.
For the first time in years, Drew let himself think about how they first met. As if it was happening right in front of him, he saw Ian playing alone with the trucks in the school sandbox. It’d been their first day of kindergarten. Wanting to play with the trucks too, he’d joined Ian. From then on, they were the best of friends. They’d even gone to colleges close together. He’d gone to LSU in Baton Rouge, while Ian attended Tulane in New Orleans. After college, Ian returned home to North Salem and took a job in Boston, while he’d gone on to play professional football for the New England Rebels. Their vastly different career paths hadn’t affected their friendship. Only death had done that.
Damn it, Ian. You were too young to die.
Drew turned in to Kelsey’s driveway and pulled the keys from the ignition. The basketball hoop he and Ian spent hours shooting balls into remained attached to the garage, the net long gone. Out there they’d helped Kelsey perfect her jump shot. They’d also perched her favorite stuffed cat on the hoop one summer night when she’d been exceedingly annoying. He didn’t remember what she’d done. He did remember them taking her favorite stuffed cat and a stool outside. At bedtime, she’d searched the whole house for the stuffed animal. Eventually she’d gone to bed without it. Her dad found the toy the next morning when he backed out of the garage, and Mr. Bancroft had given them both hell for the stunt.
Get out. He couldn’t talk to her if he sat out here.
A red, white, and blue welcome sign hung from the front door, a leftover decoration from the Fourth of July. Ringing the doorbell, he waited. Several seconds passed and she didn’t appear, so he rang again. When the door remained closed, he went down the steps and around the side of the house. The garage had one window; a peek inside revealed no car. They’d never gone into specifics regarding her day-to-day schedule, so he didn’t know when she normally got home.
Drew’s stomach rumbled loud enough for Kelsey’s neighbors to hear. He’d give her a chance to come home from wherever she was and try again. In the meantime, he’d grab some food. Although North Salem had a few restaurants, Masterson’s remained his favorite. After he ate, he’d drive back over and make sure things were okay.
Savory aromas bombarded him when he walked inside. Focused more on the extra-hot buffalo tenders Masterson’s was known for and that he planned on ordering, he at first didn’t notice the stares coming his way from the family waiting to be seated. He picked up on it quickly.
It wasn’t the first time it’d happened. After he’d been drafted into the NFL from college, it had begun happening whenever he’d come home to visit his parents. Now, though, after leading his team to three consecutive Super Bowl wins and getting several corporate endorsements, it happened more frequently, and not only in his hometown. The biggest downside to doing what he loved.
Drew ignored the stares and approached the hostess station. Often the owner or one of his daughters stood there. He didn’t recognize the young woman working today.
“Welcome to Masterson’s. How many in your party?” the hostess asked. While she waited for an answer, she studied him as if trying to figure out where she’d seen him before.
He smiled. “Just one.”
“I can seat you right away then.” The hostess picked up a menu. “Please follow me, Mr.….”
He assumed the woman had been unable to place him and that was her way of asking who he was. “McKenzie.”
“Oh, my God! It is you. I can’t believe it!” The young woman’s outburst brought the aging restaurant owner over.
“Don’t keep him waiting, Mara. I’ll seat him at table five,” the owner instructed. “It’s good to see you again, my boy. How’ve you been?” Lou Masterson took the menu from the hostess and led him over to the table himself.
Drew didn’t take offense at the owner’s reference to him as a boy. Lou Masterson referred to everyone under the age of sixty as a boy. Even his own son, who had a grown daughter in her thirties, was called a boy.
“Fine. You?” Like most North Salem residents, he’d been coming into the restaurant forever. And, like everyone else, he liked the owner.
“Never better.” The owner handed him a menu. “I’ll send your waitress right over. If you need anything, let me know.”
Every so often Lou made changes to the menu. So while he planned on ordering some buffalo chicken tenders, he opened the menu to see what else he wanted. As he looked over the various options, a young man, perhaps sixteen or seventeen, dressed in black pants and white polo shirt, delivered a tall glass of ice water and a basket of bread.
“Hi there, stranger. Are you ready to order?” a female voice greeted as he turned to the seafood section of the menu.
Drew dropped the menu, and his head snapped up. He recognized the voice well, but it didn’t belong here taking his dinner order. “What….” He trailed off as he attempted to make sense of the situation. “Kelsey? What are you doing here?”
“Last time I checked, trying to take your dinner order. Do you need more time? I can come back after I check on table three if you want.”
She’d always been quick with a comeback. Today he didn’t appreciate it, especially when she knew what he referred to. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. When did you start working here? I thought you went back to working on your PhD full-time again.”
When Ian had been sick, she’d taken time off from her studies and started at the middle school to help cover her brother’s bills. Even though she’d never said it, he’d assumed she’d left the middle school and gone back to Brandeis University since then.
He almost missed her sigh. “I work here a few days a week.” Kelsey pulled a pen from her apron and held it over a pad. “So, are you ready to order or do you want me to come back?” she asked before he got another word in.
A lot of the tables in the restaurant were already full, and it’d only get busier. Getting into a long conversation right now would force other customers to wait. “I’ll have an order of the buffalo tenders with the extra-hot sauce to start, and the chicken Alfredo for dinner.”
“And to drink?” she asked, looking down at her pad rather than at him.
“Club soda with lime.”
She glanced up but still didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Great. I’ll get this right in.” Kelsey took his menu and offered him a tight smile. “Be right back with your drink.”
Drew watched her walk away. What was she doing here? Did she work here part-time at night and spend her days at the university? Had she decided not to finish the doctorate program she’d started? H
e doubted it. Even in high school, she’d talked about adding the letters to the end of her name and going on to do research. It seemed unlikely she’d give up her goal. And did his parents know she worked here? If they did, why hadn’t they told him? Surely they knew he’d want know if Kelsey needed help. He thought of her as a kid sister. Well, at least most of the time.
A hollow feeling started in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with being hungry. Was she in some kind of trouble? He should’ve done more since Ian’s death than make monthly phone calls.
Days before his friend lost his battle with cancer, Ian had asked him to keep an eye on Kelsey, and Drew promised he would. Since then he’d convinced himself the monthly calls he made were enough, because deep down he hadn’t wanted to see her. Seeing her reminded him too much of the friend he’d lost. The last time he’d seen Kelsey had been at her parents’ funeral two summers ago.
Kelsey again appeared at his table. “Here’s your drink. The buffalo tenders will be out soon. Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Good for now, thanks. Did you get my messages?” All the tables around him were now full. They couldn’t have much of a conversation, but she could answer a quick question or two. “I got worried when you didn’t call back.”
“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t get back to you. I meant to and then I got busy.” She faced him when she spoke, but again didn’t meet his eyes. “As soon as the tenders come out, I’ll bring them over.” Kelsey took a step away, prepared to bolt.
“When do you get off tonight? I can stop over and we can catch up.”
“I’m closing today.”
Damn, he couldn’t stick around in North Salem until then. He still had a good forty-minute ride home, and practice started early tomorrow. “Are you around tomorrow night?”
She took another step back. “Nope. I’m here tomorrow and Friday night. I’ll be around this weekend. My only plan is to work on school stuff.”
Driving back this weekend was out. The team had a game out in Denver on Sunday to start the season. Kelsey followed football, or at least she had, and she’d always been a fan of the New England Rebels. She’d know this week the season officially started and that the team had an away game.
She didn’t give him a chance to respond. “I’m going to check on table eight. When your food’s ready I’ll bring it over.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Kelsey mentally slapped herself in the forehead. Rather than ignore his messages, she should’ve returned them. But nope, she’d decided to ignore them and hope he stopped calling each month. Now she had him sitting at one of her tables, asking to get together and catch up. Although he hadn’t said it, she suspected he’d come to North Salem because they’d missed their monthly chat. She knew for a fact he rarely came back to town. His mom complained about it whenever they bumped into each other. At least work tonight kept her from having a real conversation with him. Masterson’s closed at ten on Wednesdays; Drew wouldn’t stay around until then. Like a lot of people, she followed football and knew her favorite team’s schedule well. This weekend Drew had a game out in Denver. He wouldn’t be able to visit even if he wanted.
Yep, once he left the restaurant she shouldn’t have to see him again until Sean and Mia’s wedding next weekend. They couldn’t have much of a conversation at a wedding reception. Kelsey stopped at the beverage station so she could get refills for table eight.
“Oh, my God! Is it true? Is Drew McKenzie here!” Annie, a waitress who usually worked on the pub side but occasionally helped on the restaurant side, appeared next to her.
Kelsey nodded as she filled a glass with diet cola. “He came in a little while ago. He’s waiting for his appetizer.”
“Which section is he in?” Annie peeked around the corner, trying to find him. “There he is!” She bounced a little on the balls of her feet. “Wow, he looks even better in person. Who’s waiting on him?”
She wished she shared Annie’s enthusiasm. “Me.” Kelsey filled a second glass with root beer.
“Oh, my God! You’re so lucky.” She looked around the corner again. “I wish he’d come into the pub instead. What’s he like?”
Kelsey picked up her tray, prepared to get back to work. “Like any other customer wanting to eat. I need to bring these over to table eight. Talk to you later.” Maybe she’d been a little rude. She could somewhat understand the other woman’s excitement. After all, most people didn’t see Drew as just another man. They saw him as the famous quarterback he was. But she’d seen Drew in his pajamas too many times to think of him as only the Rebels’ star quarterback. Perhaps if someone equally well-known was sitting in Drew’s seat she’d react more like Annie.
After delivering the refills to table eight, she swung by the kitchen and picked up Drew’s buffalo tenders. She hoped his main dish came out soon, too. The sooner he got his food and ate, the sooner he’d leave.
He had his smartphone out when she returned. As soon as she set the plate down, he looked up. “Enjoy. I think the kitchen went a bit heavier than usual with the sauce.” She planned on walking away before he made any other comments about catching up, but the hand he wrapped around her wrist sabotaged her intentions.
“I planned on going solo to O’Brien’s wedding. How ’bout we go together instead? It’ll be more fun and give us a chance to talk.”
Something similar to dread exploded in her stomach and spread. Without considering her words, she said, “Sorry, but I’m going with my boyfriend.”
Drew released her wrist and reached for a tender. “No problem. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone. Look forward to meeting him.”
You and me both. She mentally slapped herself in the head. What a stupid thing to say. “I’ll check back in a little while.” Before he asked for her nonexistent boyfriend’s name, she walked away.
Chapter 8
Despite her continued probing during their conversations, Striker gave up nothing about his surprise. All she’d gotten out of him was a promise that she’d love it and he’d be over around ten o’clock on Saturday. Even though he’d insisted she’d never guess, she’d spent a fair amount of time last night staring at the ceiling as she ran through possibilities. She loved visiting the beach. Being Labor Day weekend, though, the state beaches would be packed as people enjoyed what many considered the last official weekend of summer. And she got the impression he had something more special than a day at a crowded beach planned for them. So, she’d dismissed the beach idea and moved on. They both loved hiking. They’d gone on several hikes together the previous fall, but last night she’d tossed it out, too. Since they’d done it so much, hiking didn’t seem special. When it came to sports, she could take them or leave them. Striker knew that so those got ruled out, too.
What is your plan? She thumbed through one of the recital costume catalogues she’d brought home with her. Maryann liked the teachers to settle on costumes as early as possible so she could order them long before the recital. Then they still had time to send them back if necessary. So far, she’d narrowed down her choices for one class, but still hadn’t found anything she liked for the others. She also hadn’t decided whether or not she wanted to take over when Maryann left. The fact that Maryann asked her first meant a lot to her, but she didn’t want to rush into anything. She loved the studio, but needed to be sure taking over as a director was the best thing for her. Once she did it, she couldn’t back out.
Despite the catalogue and the colorful outfits inside, her thoughts went back to Striker’s plans rather than the pictures and what would look best on her students. What did people do on Labor Day weekend in New England? Apple picking had started last month, but it wasn’t an all-day thing. Depending on what orchard you visited, you could pick an entire bushel in less than half an hour. Skiing wouldn’t start for several more weeks. Even if it had started, Striker only tolerated skiing. He’d much rather be back at the lodge overlooking the slopes, drinking an Irish coffee and watching a football game or some other sporti
ng event on television.
“Give it up. Striker was right. I’m not going to figure it out.” Tossing aside one catalogue, she picked up another. She didn’t have much longer to wait anyway. He’d be here in less than half an hour. So why drive herself crazy trying to figure it out? “Buckle down and find at least one possibility for your level-two hip-hop class.” Considering the size of the catalogue, she shouldn’t have a problem doing that while she waited, if she focused.
By the time Striker arrived, she’d picked the perfect costume for her Thursday night hip-hop students, so at least her time sitting around wasn’t a total waste.
Striker brushed his lips across hers when he walked in, leaving her wanting more. Rather than do something she’d regret afterward, she put some extra space between them and studied his clothes. Like Sunday he wore jeans, only these appeared much newer. Instead of a T-shirt and sneakers, though, he had on a dark green polo shirt and boat shoes. An outfit one could wear almost anywhere on a Saturday afternoon.
“Missed you this week,” he said instead of telling her anything about what he had planned.
She’d missed him, too. Of course, she’d missed him ever since he called it quits in the spring. “You could’ve come over after football practice. I was home every night this week. Dance classes haven’t started yet.”
Striker’s eyebrows inched upward. “I was waiting for you to invite me. You wanted to control the pace. I assumed I couldn’t come over without an invitation.”
She’d had other activities in mind when she mentioned controlling the pace. “Just call and ask.” Ella figured she’d waited long enough to find out his surprise. “Okay, out with it. What’s the plan today?”
He rubbed his hands together and grinned. “You’re gonna love it.”
Ella advanced on him and poked him in the chest. “You already told me I’ll love it. Now I want details, buddy. Come on, let’s hear the details.”
In His Kiss (Love On The North Shore Book 4) Page 9
