“Okay,” he said, then just sat there quietly on the other end of the line.
“Bye, TJ.”
“Bye, Jen.”
She hesitated, but then ended the call.
* * *
A week later, Jen watched Erin Kingman as she talked to the parents as they dropped off their kids at Uccello Canoro. The place was so different than the small-town academy she’d taught at. This was the real deal, people paid big bucks, and they had a serious expectation of return on investment. This was training for Broadway, or television. These parents wanted their kids to be stars. And it was stressing Jen out. Big time. Today was parent day, which meant they’d all stay and observe practice. No pressure for her first week.
She’d now been in Chicago for about seventy-two hours and she’d never been more homesick in her life. She kept telling herself to wait it out. What she was feeling was normal, but it didn’t seem to help. The first two nights she’d quietly cried herself to sleep on Erin’s sofa.
The apartment—if you could call it that—was smaller than Jen’s shithole that had burned down. She’d even done a little research and found out that comparable in the same building started renting for twelve hundred a month. For that same price back in Kansas, she could nearly rent a two-story house. It was inconceivable. How did people make a living?
“Hello, Miss Jen,” one of the students said. Jen shook off her wayward thoughts and smiled.
“Good morning”—she thought quickly and glanced at Erin who mouthed her the answer—“Kara. Are you ready to sing today?”
Kara nodded. She was five and absolutely adorable. Her singing voice was out of this world, but the kid was wearing a Gucci sweater and jeans. It was a different world.
Once everyone had been dropped off—and the parents were all seated behind the two-way mirror, yikes!—Erin began the class with scales.
The academy had classes Monday through Friday and did three performances a year. Some kids were there for voice, some for acting, and some did it all.
Her first day, Erin had given Jen a nice introduction to every parent that came. Had mentioned her experience and the roles she’d played. A couple of moms had asked where she’d “studied,” and the last company she’d taught at. She’d just smiled at said, “I’ve spent the past five years working in community theater. I have a passion for it.”
She’d received a lot of “aw, that’s sweet” looks, which had made her feel bad for Erin for bringing her there. Thankfully they’d ended that first day at the local bar where Erin had relayed her own run-ins with parents early on. She’d assured Jen that the parents had no say on the hire, but Jen wasn’t so sure. If the school had received money from a wealthy benefactor, someone was pulling strings.
“Jen, why don’t you lead the first breathing exercise?” Erin asked.
“Of course.” Jen stepped to the front of the group. She let her eyes wander over the dozen or so children in front of her, then the mirror to the far end of the room.
And then she began with a smile. “Posture check,” she said in a happy voice. Every little body sat to attention, and then she led them through a breathing and singing exercise.
She felt good about it. The kids had been attentive, she’d felt good about her own voice although she’d been incredibly nervous, and by the end of the day, one of the parents had come up and complimented her. Erin had given her a thumbs-up from across the room.
By Thursday, Jen’s head was spinning with excitement. She’d learned so much from Erin and the rest of her staff, but one thing had become incredibly clear.
This place wasn’t for her.
Some of the kids were fantastic, and Jen already felt attached. But in general, the parents were too rich and the kids too pedigreed. It made her question what their motives were. Did they truly intend for their child to become famous? That felt like a lot of responsibility. And misguided hope. It all made Jen uncomfortable.
It was an amazing academy, and Erin would be fun to work with, but she was feeling more and more like the job wasn’t for her. Jen missed knowing that her work was truly building up a child who needed the extra boost of confidence.
In Maple Springs she’d worked with all kinds of children. Some that were on food stamps, some that were in foster care, and yes, even some with money. But the work had felt important. That was the aspect she quickly realized was missing from Uccello Canoro.
However, that didn’t keep her from soaking up everything she could, and formulating a plan. She was starting to think this was the reason she’d come.
* * *
TJ sat at his desk watching the video of Jen and Ant singing at Shakers posted to her Facebook page. He’d probably watched it six times, and that was just today.
For some reason, this time he decided to click on the comments. There were 132. Wow.
“OMG, Jen, you’re amazing.”
“Why aren’t you famous yet?”
“I was there!!!!! You were so good!!!!”
“You’re hot AF.”
That one made him growl. He clicked on the profile pic to see a bearded meathead. “You’re a dick, Chase Reynolds,” TJ muttered to his computer screen. He kept reading.
“I love it when you sing, Jen!!! Hi Ant!! Miss you both.”
“Please start teaching again Miss Jen.”
“We love you Miss Jen.”
“Miss Jen! You’re soooooo good.:):)”
There were several more from what appeared to be her students, which made TJ feel sick to his stomach. He missed her to the point of tears. Something he might never admit for as long as he lived. And all week he’d been fighting a harsh reality.
He knew she’d made the right decision.
Jen had lived a lot of her life putting herself second, doubting herself, and worrying about how others saw her. She deserved this job. A chance to shine, to do what she loved, and to succeed. She was right, it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. He hated it, but he knew it.
A knock at the door got his attention. Jake stood there, hands on hips. TJ clicked the browser closed.
“What?”
“Listen. My man. I love you like a brother, and I know you’re going through some shit. But if you play that video one more time, we’re probably gonna come to blows.”
TJ just glared at him.
Jake put his hands up. “Just sayin’.”
He walked out and TJ could hear him laughing down the hallway.
TJ looked around as his office. The bottles of Stag Signature Bourbon and Longhorn Whiskey. Their first dollar was hanging on his wall, along with copies of all of their local newspaper and magazine covers. He had so much pride in this work. With what they’d accomplished. The three of them had set out with a goal, and they’d succeeded. He’d achieved what he’d wanted to. Built a beautiful home, learned to have faith in his own abilities.
Another knock sounded on his door and he looked up, shocked to see his father.
Instantly TJ stood. “Dad, what are you doing here?”
His father sauntered in, looking around, casually stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Thought it was about time I came and checked out your office.”
TJ slowly sat down. “Of course, have a seat.”
The older man did. “Nice chair. I have one similar in my office.”
“We both have good taste, I guess.” But TJ was just being polite.
His dad just chuckled. “I suppose so. Listen, uh, I actually was in the neighborhood. Just got done talking to Jordan Bodisto across the way.”
TJ’s brows went up, then he shook his head. “That wasn’t necessary, Dad.”
“No, it was.” The man looked everywhere but at TJ’s eyes. “I owed him an apology.”
“Sounds like it was his father you owed an apology to.”
“Yeah. I’ll probably get to that,” he said, giving an awkward smile. “But I wanted to encourage him to do business with you. It isn’t your fault I’m an idiot.”
If TJ h
ad been stunned about his father’s appearance at his work, this just about blew him over. “I appreciate that. But you know we’ll be fine without a Shakers account.”
“Of course you will. This place is very successful. I know that. But … it needed to be done anyway. I’d hate to be the thing standing in your way of any business.”
TJ nodded. Silently waited to hear what his father said next.
“I’m real proud of what you’ve done with this place, you know?”
“No, Dad. I didn’t know that.”
Finally, their eyes met. “Well, you should have. You’re my son. I guess I should have told you before now. It’s just not always easy for me.”
It was hard not to wonder why just the small act of showing your own child your pride or affection could be difficult. TJ really had no idea what kind of childhood his own father had, but it occurred to him then that it must not have been good. And that made him very sad to consider.
“I appreciate you saying so, Dad. Really.”
James Laughlin didn’t do emotions, as far as TJ knew, but right then, for once, they were evident in his eyes when he nodded. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to work. And, uh, please give my sincere apologies to your girlfriend about the way I acted the other night. I’d had too much to drink.”
“I’ll do that.”
“She seems to really care for you. I’m glad.”
TJ sucked in a breath, holding his emotions in check. Finally, he just nodded. The last thing he could do right now was share what happened between him and Jen with his father.
“Anyway.” His father awkwardly looked around and stood up. TJ joined him, following him toward the door. They made their way out into the main room, his dad looking around at the Stag. He glanced over at the distilling room. “I don’t have time now, but someday I’m gonna come in and see how all this works.”
TJ smiled. “I’d like that. Anytime.”
“Good.” He headed for the front door again, but at the last minute he turned back to TJ. “Oh. And don’t miss your phone call with your mother this Sunday. She gets sad when you don’t keep in touch with her.”
TJ’s eyes widened. “Okay, I’ll make sure I don’t. I wasn’t aware she even noticed when I missed a week.”
John’s brow furrowed. “Of course she does. She’s your mother.”
“She could call me,” TJ said matter-of-factly.
His father shook his head. “You know how she is. She doesn’t want to bother you.” And on that note, he left.
TJ watched his dad walk out to his Mercedes parked on the curb in front of the door. A no-parking zone. The old man didn’t care a bit about rules. TJ chuckled to himself.
Walking back to his office, he thought about his mother. What in the world made her think calling him would be a bother? Why did everyone fear imposing on the other? He immediately thought of Jen.
When you loved someone, sometimes you needed to butt into their life and remind them of that. Even if they should already know it. It was necessary.
Sitting down at his desk, he looked around once more. Yes, he’d accomplished a lot. But without that woman, all of it was meaningless. He’d keep telling her that until it sunk in. Opening a new browser on his computer, he started clicking.
Twenty-Six
The next morning, TJ got off the Metro and walked up the stairs onto State Street. He’d gotten the address of the Uccello Canoro from their website, and John had given him a few hints about navigating the city since he used to live there. This was where he would start. Surely, she was either at the school, or this Erin didn’t live too far away.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled out his phone, said a quick prayer to the universe, and called Jen. They’d only spoken briefly in almost two weeks, the day she’d called about her mother’s MRI results. It was still hard to believe he’d gone almost that long without touching her.
“TJ?”
His body instantly breathed a sigh of relief that she’d answered. “Jen. Yes. It’s me. How are you?”
“Good…” She paused, and he realized there was no mistaking the background noise. There was no traffic chaos or car horns in Maple Springs. Not even during rush hour. “Where are you?”
“I’m here, Jen. Where are you?”
“TJ! Where are you?” He could tell she’d begun moving. TJ glanced up to the nearest street sign. “I’m on the corner of State and Chicago.”
“Oh my God.” She gave a nervous laugh. “I’m coming. You’re down the street from me.”
“Don’t let me go,” he rushed out.
She laughed. “I’m not, just head … uh, north I think. Toward Wabash.”
He began walking faster, looking at the sidewalk ahead of him. “Are you at Erin’s apartment?”
“No, we were in a restaurant having lunch. Keep heading north.”
“I am.” And then suddenly, there she was. Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, looking around under a deli awning. People rushed in between them, but he kept his eyes trained on her bright-red lips, dark hair, and beautiful eyes, which he didn’t need to see up close to know were sparkly and full of life.
“I see you,” he said.
And then she looked right at him. Smiling.
“I see you too,” she said, staring at him. The excitement in her voice, and in her eyes, made him feel like he’d just died and gone to heaven. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re here.”
Neither of them moved. They just stood there, phones to their ears, staring as strangers passed between them, blocking then revealing each other again.
“You’re so beautiful, it hurts, Jen,” he said into the phone. He could see her roll her eyes.
“Will you stop being so damn creepy and get over here.” He watched her end the call and put her phone in her pocket. He shoved his phone down into his own pocket and began making his way toward her. The minute their bodies met, so did their lips, for a long, soft kiss.
When she pulled back, she looked up at him. “What are you doing here?”
“Giving you your chance.”
“My chance?”
He touched her face. “Your chance to make your dreams come true. I had my chance at success, and I achieved it. Now it’s your turn. So here I am.”
Her arms looped around his waist. “Are you saying … you’d move here for me?”
“If that’s what you want. If your dream is here, mine is too.” He leaned against her, speaking into her ear so she didn’t miss it. “You’re my dream, Jennifer Mackenzie. I want you for forever. For no other reason but because I’m selfish and I can’t live without you.”
“But you love the Stag.”
“I love you more.”
She smiled, then leaned forward to speak into his ear. “Confession. I don’t love it here.”
TJ laughed and looked down at her. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. I’m so glad I came. It’s been a wonderful experience, and I love Erin. But this job is not my dream. Plus … I’ve missed you so much.”
TJ kissed her again. When he pulled back, she touched his face. “I love you, Trevor James. I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you for most of my life.”
He leaned his forehead against hers. “I’ve always loved your voice, but those words … that’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”
Twenty-Seven
That night they made love in a king-size bed in the Drake Hotel, where TJ had gotten them a last-minute room for the night. She still couldn’t believe he was here, in Chicago.
“I don’t know what I would have done if you’d turned me away today,” he said, playing with her hair.
Jen turned, resting her chin on his chest. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
They laid there, bodies intertwined, looking out at the city lit up outside their window. “Crazy how you can hear the sounds even way up here, but yet it still feels peaceful,” she said. “And that view is crazy.”
“It’s pretty. But this�
��—he ran his finger all the way around her face—“is the only view I want to go to bed to each night, and wake up to each morning.”
“Damn,” she said, smiling. “Ten points for that one.”
He laughed. “I thought so.”
“I want us to make sure we’re completely honest with each other from here on,” she said.
“I agree with that. Although as it is, I think you know everything there is to know.”
She quirked her eyebrows. “Everything? No dark secrets?”
He thought about it. “Okay. I’ve got something you may not know. I didn’t just come to see you in every performance of Grease. I came to every single performance you were in. The King and I. Oklahoma.”
She sat up, laughing and in complete shock. “You saw me play Ado Annie?”
“I did. I’ll admit it, that laugh…” He grimaced.
“Oh my goodness. Wasn’t it awful? I promise I won’t ever do that again.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“Okay. I have a secret that’s kind of dark,” she said, needing to get all her dirty laundry out in the open. It was the only way she’d be able to fully move forward—if he had the whole picture and still wanted her for her.
He ran a finger over her bare thigh, his eyes on hers.
She took a deep breath. “I have ten thousand dollars in credit card debt.” She made an overexaggerated worried face.
TJ winced, his eyes shutting.
“Don’t hate meeeee,” she begged playfully, hoping he wouldn’t truly get mad.
He shook his head, his horror obvious. “Then don’t hate me if I pay it off.”
She rolled her eyes, but her relief was immediate. “I’ll try not to.”
Grabbing her hand, he yanked her back down on his chest. “What are you going to do for me?”
Her eyes went wide. “I’m a kept woman, am I? Remember what that’s called?”
“I hope it’s called Mrs. Laughlin. Someday.”
That shut her up. “Do you truly mean that?”
“I do, Jen.” He cupped her chin. “Don’t think this is a proposal or anything. I’m smart enough to do that right. But that is what I want.”
“Me too.” She kissed him softly and then pulled back. “One last thing. I was going to make an entire presentation, but since you’re here, I’ll tell you now.”
Maybe This Time_A Whiskey and Weddings Novel Page 25
