9. Mari
It was the first time Leo had appeared genuinely scared, a reaction I’d grown accustomed to from the residents of Green Valley, but tonight, it bothered me. I blamed the anxious undertone to our evening on the fact that I’d worn this ridiculous dress on the chance he’d show up.
And then, when he’d stepped up wearing all black, hair styled, beard trimmed short, and looking like he made a genuine effort, my heart had stuttered, temporarily distracted from the goal. As the night went on and our conversation extended, his nerves grew.
He was going to tell me no, and I refused to accept that answer. I dragged out the evening as long as possible. Told stories about the kids, about the money struggles. It wasn’t exactly torture to hang out with the guy, either. He turned out to be pretty funny, and his admiration of Janice was incredibly sweet. When he started a new story or was particularly excited about something, he’d grip his thick curls and tug them back. Or if he was getting ready to tell me bad news. Like right now.
“But I really need to tell you something. I can’t help—” Leo started.
I looked up to see the owner of the Front Porch trying to sneak out the back door. “Oh, hell no!”
I grabbed my bag and stood.
“Wait? Where’re you going?” He stood too, reaching for his wallet.
“I got it.” I beeped my watch against the machine the bartender had ready and extended to me. “You get the tip.”
Leo’s eyes widened. “They take e-payments now?”
I rolled my eyes. “I have to go. He’s leaving out the back.”
Leo threw down a few bills that would have covered our meal and not just a nice tip. “Wait, I’ll go with you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not sure how long this will take. You can go.” I sped away, through the kitchen, not worrying about the surprised faces of staff finishing their closing duties.
“Mari, wait. I still need to talk to you.” Leo was right on my heels, reaching for my arm.
“Shoot. He’s as slippery as an eel. That tight-fisted so-and-so,” I mumbled into the rest of my cursing.
“Can you slow down?” Leo asked, bringing me to a stop.
“Not really. My only setting is wogging. Don’t slow me down.” I brushed him off.
He growled and continued to follow me. “I really need to tell you something.”
“And I really don’t have time to hear it right now.” My excuses quota had been reached for the month.
The owner was already in his running car when I stepped out to the back parking lot. He glanced up at me and rushed to start backing out before even buckling, pretending we hadn’t locked eyes.
“Oh, that sonofa!” I would chase after him. I would leech myself to his hood if that’s what it took to get his dang attention. The students needed these donations. People needed to stop trying to get away from me.
Leo lurched forward to stop me by grabbing my arm. I twisted out of his grip easily.
“Now who’s slippery as an eel.” He hooked his arms around my waist, and I beat at his hands. “What is your plan here?”
I stopped struggling and turned in his arms. “Are you laughing?”
He chuckled more. “I’m sorry.” He tried to clear his features. “It’s just nice not to be the one receiving your wrath.”
“I can’t believe he just left. He saw me. We made eye contact.”
“Maybe if you weren’t chasing after him with that look in your eyes.”
I stomped my heel, my anger making me shake.
“That’s the look.” He leaned back.
His arms were still locked around my hips. An awareness of spreading heat coursed through me. He swallowed as he took me in. My hands were fisted and tight to my chest. The effect had my cleavage pushed up. We both noticed that at the same time.
“I am so sick of people saying one thing and doing another. He said he would talk to me tonight about donations. I’m not just chasing him randomly.” Anger burned me up, but I heard my mother’s voice again telling me to control my temper. I ground my jaw and threw out my arms. They flopped to the outside of his embrace and now it was a loose impression of two people dancing. “Just another disappointing person in my life.”
His mouth dropped open before closing again, jaw clenching. He looked at our tangled bodies and freed me to step back.
“Just out with it, Leo. Give me your excuses and reasons why you don’t have time or resources. I’ve heard it all.” Absurdly, the anger was morphing back into that gaping pain I’d felt alone in my apartment.
His head dropped, telling me that I was correct in my understanding of where this conversation was headed. What sort of man would toy with me—with Cath like this? Show up to hear her play twice just to make an excuse not to help her. How could he see her play at all and not believe in her?
He mumbled something.
“I don’t understand you.” I crossed my arms over my body. The fall weather had finally settled into the evenings, but my posture was more about the frustration leaving my body and being replaced by the familiar acceptance of disappointment.
“I was fired.” He clenched his jaw, emphasizing a pulse at his temple. “I didn’t quit The Burnouts. I was fired.”
“Fired?” I blinked in confusion, recalling every rumor I’d heard in the months since he’d been back—artistic differences, big ego, early retirement—and fired wasn’t one of them.
“Yes.” He swallowed. “Everybody thinks I retired. I didn’t exactly correct the rumors, for obvious reasons.” His hand went to the back of his neck. “We all signed NDAs and probably you will need to now also.”
I frowned at the ground. Wouldn’t Janice have mentioned that? Or Devlin? But clearly, this was a confession few people knew about. Maybe I shouldn’t have taught the kids to play his former band’s big hit. It was funny at the time, but after seeing the embarrassment in his lack of eye contact, it was definitely a bad move.
“That’s fine. About the NDA...” I said, still processing.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not a gossip just because I live here. You don’t have to worry about me blabbing.” I thought about my goss sessions with Clara at Genie’s, but that hardly felt relevant to share at this time.
“Hmm, that look you just made makes me think you’re lying.”
“Thank you for telling me,” I said. “I still don’t get why you won’t help Cath.”
It was true. Whatever his reasons, his talent was there. And more importantly, he was here. He spun in a circle, groaning as he tugged on the back of his neck with both hands. When he turned back to face me, his cheeks were flushed. “I have no degree. I was fired from the only job I ever had, and I haven’t played the drums since I was kicked out by my best friend.” His chest heaved.
The back lot was abandoned this late. The sun had gone down long ago, but the one buzzing overhead light cast enough of a glow to see him perfectly. “That’s it?” I asked after looking back at him.
“That’s not enough?”
“Can you physically not play anymore?”
He frowned. “No. I probably could.”
“And you aren’t morally opposed to Cath playing?” I asked, my defenses on edge.
“No.” He shook my head, confused. “Why would I be?”
I ignored that question. “I don’t understand what the issue is, then.”
“The issue is, you were right. I’m a washed-up rock star with no life plans and absolutely no skills. Who the hell am I to get this girl into college? I couldn’t even get into college. I’m a loser. You know it. This whole town knows it. I’m the last person who should be helping Cath.”
I never said any of that. I might have thought it though, and now I regretted my earlier assumptions as I studied the tortured man.
“Is that it?” I repeated.
“Again, is that not enough?” He huffed air out of his nose in a scoff.
“No. It’s not. Quite frankly, I would only accept a few very legitimate reasons.”
“Like what?”
“I’m absolutely not telling you that now.”
“Mari. Come on, you have to see I’m not the right fit. I don’t get why you’re pushing this so much.”
My determination surprised us both, but once I decided something, I wasn’t easily dissuaded. Cath needed a tutor, and Janice thought this would help Leo. This was how I helped my community and gave back.
“I completely disagree about you being a loser. You have talent. You have passion. I’ve seen you play.” His eyebrows moved up in surprise. “But none of that matters. More than anything, Cath needs someone to believe in her. Someone who gets what it’s really going to take. She’s so close to something, but she’s holding back in her playing, and I’m not there enough to help her get to it. She needs somebody who understands what it’s really about.”
“What what’s about?” he asked.
I gave him an incredulous look. “The art. The music. That fire that burns deep and needs the constant source of fuel to grow into something huge.”
His eyes moved over my face. His chest still heaved from his outburst, but his eyes gentled. He got it. He could pretend to be scared, but he knew exactly what I was talking about.
“Don’t get me wrong, her parents are incredibly supportive, but they aren’t artists. They’ve never had that burning desire to be great. That drive that pushes you to practice and practice until you’re literally bleeding.” My palms tingled, and I could summon that feeling of wanting something so bad it was all I could think about. My heart raced in my chest. “Music is everything to her. And once upon a time, it was everything to you.”
“And look where it got me,” he mumbled.
Now, I scoffed loudly. “Do you mean your years of successful touring with one of the biggest rock bands from Tennessee? Or the house that your talent was able to purchase for your mom? Is that what you mean? Because that’s what I mean.” He looked up, brow creased. “Get your head out of your ass, Cooper, and step up for this kid. She’s already going to be at a disadvantage going into college. Especially if—when she gets into Berklee. So many of these kids come from a world of private tutors and music conservatories. She has raw talent, but she needs the passion and the drive. Like you once had.
“Be the person who she talks to about all this stuff. That part of your life may be over, but it’s just beginning for her. And you have the opportunity to be that person who takes her to the next level. Help give this kid her shot.”
If my words hadn’t sunk in now, if this hadn’t motivated him after he shared this burden, then there was no helping him.
“I’ll see you Monday at three fifteen. Check in with the front office first, then meet us in the band room.” I tugged my purse up higher on my shoulder. I had done everything I could. “Slash choir room slash sometimes dance and yoga studio.”
I walked away with my head held high. Then I turned around and passed him again. “My car is actually in the other lot.” I lifted my chin. I’d almost made it out of there with my excellent and powerful speech hanging in the air when he finally spoke.
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” he said.
I froze and turned. Had I actually gone too far this time?
His mouth quirked. “I was serious about the NDA.”
I nodded and left him standing out there. My body shook with nerves all the way home until I turned on my street. Only then did I let myself smile. It hadn’t been a yes.
But it hadn’t been a no, either.