by Cathryn Fox
“Dad,” I warn. There is a dangerous motorcycle gang in our neighborhood and I know he worries about me, but I’m a grown up, and can take care of myself.
“Okay, okay fine. Just have fun and stay safe.”
“Love you too,” I say, knowing that will put the smile back on his face.
Just then my intercom chimes. “Gotta go, Caleb’s here.” I end the call, give myself one last look in the mirror and practice my yoga breathing exercises as I make my way to the door. I buzz him in and pace restlessly until I hear his knock. I’m on the first floor so it doesn’t take him long to reach my apartment. I twist the handle and find a very handsome Caleb, dressed in a suit and tie, impeccable as always, standing in the hall. His gaze darkens as it moves over me appreciatively.
“You look stunning,” he says.
“Thank you.” I admire his perfectly combed hair, the way his suit hugs his shoulders and tapers to a trim waist. Always so well put together. My gaze returns to his unflawed face. He is good looking in that perfect, magazine cover pretty boy way. Although at thirty, he’s not a boy.
He holds his arm out. “Ready?”
I grab my purse, and he guides me outside to his sports car. Clearly we come from different worlds, but I’m not about to judge him because he’s a man of entitlement. That doesn’t make him any better or worse than me. If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that a person can appear as one thing, and end up being something else entirely.
“Nice,” I say. He circles the front and I know it’s a silly little thing, and so ridiculous I want to roll my eyes at myself—this is the twenty-first century, right?—but when he doesn’t open my door for me, disappointment niggles inside me. To this day, Dad still opens the door for both Mom and me. I guess good old-fashioned chivalry is just that…old.
I slide into the car and put my purse on my lap. Cripes, I’m twenty-eight years old. This shouldn’t be so hard. I turn to him as he fires the ignition, and smile. He smiles back, and when he showcases perfect teeth and wide dimples, I relax against my seat.
“Do you like Italian?” he asks.
“It’s only my favorite.”
“I thought we could go to Luigi’s.”
“Best linguine in town,” we both say in unison, then share a laugh. I exhale and my nervousness ebbs as he pulls into traffic and takes us across town to my favorite restaurant.
“So how long have you lived in Middletown?” I ask, curious about him.
He shoots me a quick glance. “What makes you think I’m not from around here?”
I chuckle, because it’s pretty damn obvious. “Your accent.” I tap my chin, pretending to be in deep thought. “I’d say Boston.”
He laughs again and when he takes a turn I lean into him. Our bodies brush, and while I want to feel the rush, the same connection I have with Tyler, it’s just out of my reach. Damn you, Tyler.
“And here I thought I’d left it behind,” he says.
“It’s faint, but every now and then when you say something I can pick up on it.”
“Hard to hide anything from you, I guess,” he says, the word hard coming out as hahd, as he thickens his accent in a teasing manner.
I chuckle at his antics. “So why Middletown?”
He shrugs, but I don’t miss the tightening of his jaw. “There was an opening at UIC last January, and I jumped on it.”
Why do I get the sense there is more to his story than that. I want to ask, but it’s only our first date, so I say, “Have you always wanted to be a professor?”
He angles his head my way. “My dad’s a professor at Harvard, mom is in administration. To this day I still can’t quite figure out if I became a professor because they wanted it for me, or if I wanted it myself. But at the end of the day, I enjoy what I do.” He winks, “I get to meet beautiful women like you.”
Something in that statement makes me a bit uncomfortable. Does he treat the classroom like his personal pick up joint? Then again, maybe I’m just looking for flaws. I’m sure that’s the case.
He must pick up on my unease, because he says, “Don’t worry, Sara. I don’t make a habit of dating students, and technically you’re not my student anymore, right?”
“Right.”
“And the other reason I chose Middletown is because it’s a full day’s drive from home. Close enough if I have to return in a hurry I can, but far enough that my parents have to call first.”
I nod. “Ah, I get it. I have overbearing parents, too.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah, ever since…” My words fall off. What the hell? He does not need to know what happened between Tyler and me—the real reason my parents are so protective. “I mean, ever since I moved out on my own, they worry. It’s what parents do, I guess.”
“I guess,” he says, and when we fall silent, he jacks the tunes. I hum along, and he taps his thumb on the steering wheel. A short while later he pulls into the parking lot of Luigi’s and my stomach growls. How embarrassing. I’d been so nervous all day, I’d forgotten to eat. At least the loud music drowned out the sound.
“All set?” he asks as he shuts off his vehicle.
I slide from the passenger seat and Caleb hits the fob to lock the doors. I meet him at the front of the car and he slides his arm around my waist. It feels strange to have his hands on me, but I don’t comment on it, or flinch away when he tugs me close in a possessive manner. Inside the restaurant, the hostess leads us to a quiet, intimate table in the back and she fills our water glasses as she takes our drink orders.
Our knees bump under the table as I shift, and place my napkin over my lap. A server comes and delivers our menus, but Caleb doesn’t look at his, instead he sets it aside and gazes at me.
“Why now?” he asks. “I’ve asked you out before, why did you say yes this time?”
I toy with the corners of the cloth napkin. “I figured it was time,” I say, not a lie.
“Time?” He angles his head and eyes me, like he’s waiting for more of an explanation, but I take a sip of water, then change the subject.
“Have you done a lot of touristy things since being here?”
“A little bit. But it’s kind of boring doing those things alone. Maybe we could make a list, see the places together.”
I nod. “We can do that,” I say, not sure if I’m really ready for that. I’ve spent the last nine years alone. But seeing Ty after all this time did something to me. Made me realize what was between us really was over, and I needed to start living.
Our wine is delivered, and he takes a sip, and approves it. The server fills our glasses and we both scan the menu.
After we put our order in, and the server disappears, we fall back into conversation.
“So tell me how a beautiful woman like yourself is still single?” he asks.
“I’ve been busy working, and going to school,” I respond, then wanting the conversation off me before I spill the real truth, I say, “I could ask the same about you.”
I take a sip of my wine, and he does the same before answering. “Pretty much the same. Busy with school, then pursuing a career. But now that I’m all settled, I have more time on my hands.”
I glance up, and a familiar male figure moving across the restaurant catches my attention. I freeze, my lungs squeezing tight. With his broad back to me, and his hand on the shoulder of a young girl, he follows the hostess to a table. Even though I can’t see his face, I don’t need to. It’s the way he carries himself, moves with a quiet confidence. All hard muscle and sinewy strength shifting restlessly beneath a dress shirt constraining to keep his hardness contained. He might have changed, grown up in so many ways over the years, but I’d know that body anywhere.
Caleb looks over his shoulder, and follows my gaze. He turns back to me, his body tense. “Is that the same guy who was watching you on his bike?”
“Yeah,” I say, but up until this minute I wasn’t sure he was aware that Tyler was watching us that day.
“Who is he?”
Talk about a loaded question?
“An old friend,” I say quietly.
Caleb takes a sip of his wine. “He doesn’t look like the kind of guy you’d hang around with, Sara.”
I shrug. “It was a long time ago. People change.”
“It’s not my place to say so, but if I were you, I’d stay as far away from him as possible. My guess is he’s a gangbanger, and look at the girl he’s with. She’s barely legal.”
“He’s not a gangbanger.” I defend him quickly. Too quickly, considering the way Caleb is staring at me. “And that young girl is his little sister, Gracie. It’s her birthday.”
His hand stills mid air, his wine glass poised at his lips “Her birthday? You must know them pretty well then.”
“Well enough.” Even though Tyler was taken away, I kept in contact with Gracie. It wasn’t fair for her to lose both of us, so I made a point to visit her, take her out and do girly things with her. With work and school taking up most of my time lately, it’s been a while since we hung out.
“Does he have any reason to do with,” he pauses and does air quotes around, “‘I figured it was time’?”
“Caleb,” I begin, and look back at Tyler. In that instant his head lifts, like he senses me staring at him. Our gazes collide, hold too long. The server brings them their drinks, and Tyler takes a long pull from his beer bottle. He sets it down hard, and I practically jump in my chair.
His murderous gaze leaves me to latch onto the back of Caleb’s head. I look at Caleb as he toys with the stem of his wine glass. He’s staring at me, waiting for an answer.
“It was a long time ago,” is all I say.
“So you were with that guy?”
“Yes.”
“Is it over?”
“Yes,” I say again and inject more force into my voice. I’m not sure if it’s for Caleb’s sake or mine. Just who am I trying to convince here, anyway?
“Okay,” he says, and when he looks like he’s about to say more, I gesture with a nod to the middle-aged couple two tables over.
“What do you think he’s saying to her?” I ask without thinking.
He turns, glances at the couple, then looks back at me. His expression is perplexed. “I have no idea, Sara. What do you think he’s saying?”
“Well,” I begin, falling back into the silly game Ty and I used to play. “She’s leaning toward him, her eyes are wide, very involved in what he’s saying. Plus they have a bottle of champagne.” They’re probably celebrating an anniversary, but I say, “I think he’s telling her he just got that big promotion at work, and he’s finally going to take her to Paris. She wanted to go there for their honeymoon, but they couldn’t afford it.” I give a small laugh and unable to help myself, shoot a glance Tyler’s way. “It’s just a game, Caleb.”
He arches a brow. “One you played with him?”
The way Caleb is looking at me makes me feel foolish. I fiddle with the napkin on my lap, and I’m about to answer him when Tyler shifts and climbs to his feet, like he can sense my unease. My heart jumps into my throat as he helps Gracie up and when they come our way, my gaze flickers to Caleb.
“Speaking of him, he’s on his way over to us.”
Caleb stiffens. “Is there going to be trouble?” he asks.
I shake my head hard. Caleb is a big guy, and looks like he can handle himself, but I can’t imagine he, or any other guy, would want to go up against Tyler. It’s a death wish.
“No. He’d never do anything to you,” I say, but now I’m not so sure about that. Kaitlyn said prison changes people, and from the hard look in his eyes, I’m guessing he’s not the Tyler I knew and never will be again. Even though I know that the boy I knew is gone, the stupid girlish part of me wonders if I could ever be with this new version of him.
No, never. Get your head on straight, Sara.
I plaster on a smile. “Gracie, happy birthday,” I say and climb to my feet to give her a hug. With her cane in one hand, she leans in and wraps her other hand around me. Ty stands close, his big body hovering over his sister like her protector.
“Thanks for the make-up, Sara. I totally love the kit, and I’m going to sign up for the lessons that came with it.” She smacks her lips together. “I’m wearing the berry pink right now.”
“Oh, I’m so glad, and that looks so pretty on you.”
“That was nice of you,” Tyler says, his voice deeper, a low cadence that swirls through my blood and settles deep between my legs.
“Every sixteen-year-old girl needs a make-up kit and lesson.” Just because she’s visually impaired doesn’t mean she can’t be like other girls her age. I never treated Gracie as less, nor would she want me to. She’s as capable as any other girl her age, and it all comes down to sense of touch and lots of practice. Lessons will help her learn how to load her brushes, the strokes, etc. “I’d give the lessons myself, Gracie but I’m not that great at it. I can barely get my own make-up right. Sephora has professionals. They’ll do right by you.”
“You look beautiful, Sara. With or without make-up,” Tyler says. “And that was a very thoughtful gift.” He puts his arm around his sister in a protective manner. “Mom was never into make-up and the poor girl got stuck with three brothers. None of us can help her.”
I swallow, not knowing how to respond, so I say, “Well, Gracie is the little sister I never had.”
“And you’re the big sister I always wanted,” she says.
Caleb stands, and for a moment I’d forgotten he was even there. “Oh, I’m sorry. Caleb, this is Tyler and Gracie.”
The two men stare at each other for a moment, each sizing the other up. Then Caleb holds his hand out. I suck in a breath as Ty stands there, glaring at it like he wants to destroy it. It’s not like him to be rude. Well, it’s not like the Tyler I knew to be rude. I have no idea what to expect from this new version standing before me. Tyler finally extends an arm and the men nod as they shake.
Caleb turns to Gracie. “Happy birthday, Gracie.”
“Thank you,” she says, then adds, “You have to stop by the house, Sara. I don’t see much of you anymore. I miss your visits at the BSA.”
I nod. I feel bad for not volunteering as much as I used to at the Blind Service Association. Gracie used to love it when I spent time reading to her and the others. “I know. I’ve been taking classes at the university.”
“Why don’t you come for Thanksgiving? Alex will be home. It will be like old times.”
Old times.
Oh God, what I’d do for old times. But those days are gone, and we can never ever get them back.
“Well…” I begin.
The muscles in Tyler’s jaw tick as he clenches. “I’m sure Sara already has plans, Gracie.”
Gracie shrugs. “I’m sure she does, but if they get canceled or you change your mind, I know Mom would love to see you.”
“Okay, we’ll see,” I say even though I have no intentions of joining the Barrett family for Thanksgiving dinner, this year or…ever.
Ty turns Gracie and they head back to their table. Once seated, he reaches for his beer at the same time as Caleb sips his wine, staring at me over the rim. As I take in the two men, I can’t help but think how different they are. If Ty had never gone to prison, would he be sitting across from me dressed in a suit? I quickly shut down that thought. No sense in letting my brain play the ‘what if’ game, because Ty did go to prison and I’m seated across from a very respected man.
Just then the server comes with our food, and we fall into conversation about work, the tourist attractions he’d like to see, as well as my classes at the university. Over the meal, as hard as I tried not to, my gaze keeps straying to Tyler, only to find him watching me in return.
After the meal, Caleb stands and holds his hand out to me. I reach for it, and in a possessive manner, he pulls me to him, and gives Tyler a nod before leading us back outside. Way to ram home the fact that I’m with him.
I feign a yawn when we reach his vehicle. It’s not that I’m tired, I just need to be alone, to work through all these emotions bombarding me. Caleb glances at the clock on his dashboard. “It’s still early. Want to catch a movie?”
“No, thanks, though. It’s been a long week and I have to get up early to finish my assignment.”
He nods. “Damn professors, hey?”
I laugh. “Yeah, I had this one professor. He was a tyrant.” I shake my head. “You should have heard the names the students called him.”
He grins. “I think I know who you’re talking about. Young, smart…totally hot, right?”
I laugh and look him over. “Don’t forget modest. He was very, very modest.”
Caleb laughs and his hand slides across the seat. He sets it on my thigh and I try not to stiffen. His thumb rubs my leg, and my tight black dress inches up as I shift. He pulls up in front of my apartment and turns to me.
“I want to see you again.”
I nod. “I’d like that.” He leans in, but I’m not ready to kiss him so I reach for my door handle and practically jump from the car. He meets me at the front of the vehicle.
“Let me walk you to your door.”
“Sure,” I say, appreciating this display of chivalry. Dad would be pleased.
We walk the cement path leading to my front door, and this is pretty much as far as I want him to go so I stick my key into the lock, and say. “Thanks for a fun night.”
He nods. “Okay, good night, Sara.”
“Night, Caleb.”
I slip inside my building and hurry to my apartment. Once inside, I lean against the door and draw in a huge, refueling breath. Seeing Tyler at the restaurant sucked the oxygen from my lungs and I’d been barely able to fill them since. I push off the door, strip off my dress as I make my way to the shower, wanting to wash away my make-up, as well as the memories of Tyler. I turn the shower on hot, climb in and scrub quickly. When I climb out, I think about texting Kaitlyn to let her how my night went. That thought gives me pause. How did my night go? Well, Caleb was a perfect gentleman, and I agreed to go out with him again, but truthfully, the night was a disaster. After running into Tyler and seeing the murderous gaze in his eyes, everything pretty much went downhill.
