Chapter 10 Rachel
Currently playing: Come on Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners
***
My best friend was officially a published author. And an exceptional one at that.
Setting up her book signing at the record store hadn’t been easy. I’d spent the entire week convincing Arthur, the owner, to let me host it there for her. He felt like it would bring in a different crowd, but I reminded him of two things:
One: We had an entire book section to the side of the store.
Two: I was a mastermind at shining up a turd- as my Dad would say.
It still took rounds of convincing, but I eventually got him there when I assured him that we should receive extra sales from it. I was pretty sure he was getting desperate for traction at that point, and me mentioning potential sales was too tempting for him not to reach.
Therefore, I spent the last week or so making Sip ’n’ Spin (now heavy on the spin because our coffee machine hadn’t been working for the last couple of months) the perfect hangout for a book signing. Good thing too, because this big town had shown up for Layla. Calla and Crew helped by setting up balloon arches and signs while I spent the morning trying to keep Layla from panicking and ensuring she didn’t leave our apartment looking like a grandma bundled in her many cardigans.
I’d managed to get her into a pair of black tights and my form-fitting brown leather skirt with a black T-shirt tucked in. She was the perfect picture of sexy but classy. I felt like a proud pageant mom, ready to show off her kid everywhere and take all the credit.
It was a good night. I was dreading the end of it, and yet it was already flying by. Mostly because my hands had been kept busy all afternoon, refilling refreshments, straightening anything out of place, and keeping the never-ending line to my best friend going.
But despite my busy hands, my mind kept going back to seeing Adam leaned against a wall in the far corner of the store. Tattooed, broody, insane-to-look-at Adam, who I could not kick out of my brain tonight. I’d wondered, in the back of my mind, whether Luke’s family had planned to be here, specifically if Adam would be here. But it was Layla’s night, and she deserved my focus for as long as I could give it. Even so, I was still going to check out her almost brother-in-law from afar.
As I straightened a sign that was beginning to slip from its nail, Calla set a hand on my back. “Why don’t you get something to eat and let me handle things?”
My eyes trailed to the plate of appetizers that Crew had made, and my stomach growled, a deep ache pulling at me.
“You can rest. It’s almost over, and you’ve done an amazing job.”
I turned to Layla, who was sitting behind a table with Luke right behind her, smiling as she signed book after book.
“Okay. Yeah, I think I will.” I gave her an appreciative smile and grabbed a small plate, stacking it high and making my way straight to the grump.
Adam looked over at me, and I swore, for a millisecond, I saw the man smile.
Plopping my full plate on the tall table next to his empty one, I leaned in. “Nice to see you, grandpa sailor.”
“I am not a sailor,” he grumbled.
I leaned back, tilting my head to take him in. “I don’t know, your whole vibe screams sea shanty to me. Sailor fits. What other nickname could I give you?”
“Not that one.”
A snort of a laugh left me, and I popped a jalape?o bite into my mouth. “Fine, fine. Just not much to work with on Adam. Got a middle name?”
“Ezekiel.”
“Hmm. What does that mean?”
He hesitated. “God will strengthen.”
I leaned back, tilting my head to take him in. Wide chest, large forearms, strong grip, remembering how light I felt in his arms. How I had never met someone so utterly masculine before. “Strengthen, he did.”
His eyes lightened up a little. “And yours?”
“Stevie.” I smiled. “Dad picked it because of Queen Stevie Nicks, of course.”
Adam nodded. “Ahh. Steve.”
“Not Steve. Stevie.”
“Whatever you say.” He shrugged casually, but I didn’t miss for a second how his mouth twitched in amusement.
I wondered what I would have to do to get the guy to smile. A real one, showing all those pearly whites. Someone had to, so why not me? I was generally good at working a crowd. And I was pretty good at this casual flirting and the back-and-forth we had going. He was lucky I was a girl who could read physical reactions. Otherwise, I might assume he really was an a-hole and not a teddy bear inside.
“No, not whatever I say,” I laughed and boldly took a sip from his champagne flute in hopes he wouldn’t deny me. “I refuse to be called Steve.”
“It fits you.”
I laughed. “You are such a—”
Bzz. My obnoxious vibrating phone on the table between the two of us caught our attention. Shoot, it was Dad. I’d completely forgotten it was a Friday night.
My fingers itched to answer, hand reaching out. Sure, we were mid-conversation and I was prepared to spit verbal fire at this guy, but Dad came first. He always had and always would. There were no exceptions. If I didn’t put him first, who would?
“Hey, sorry I didn’t realize the time,” I rushed out before he could speak.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay, is all.” The nostalgic raspiness of his voice settled over me like warm honey. “You don’t have to come. I know you’re busy.”
My heart beat fell back into a regular rhythm at the clearness in his voice. Today was a good day.
In all the craziness of Layla’s event, I hadn’t considered that it was dance night at the community center in Dad’s complex. I’d never missed it. Not once. And let me tell you, learning a tango with a double ear infection is awful. “No, no. I’ll be there. Tell Joann to wait until I’m there before she plays any CCR.”
“You know she won’t.” He laughed, and it felt like a hug, his arms holding me tight like when I was little and he would dance around the room with me on his toes.
“Okay, see you soon.” I smiled as I hung up and reached for my keys.
“CCR?” Adam asked with a quirk in his brow.
“Oh, they’re—” He didn’t know anything about music, right? He had said so that one night. “Never mind. It’s line dance night at my dad’s assisted living complex. I always go. That way, he has a partner.”
He nodded his head and took a sip of his drink, his lips placed just where mine had been. “Have fun.”
I guess that was his version of goodbye. But I wasn’t quite ready for that. I hadn’t seen him all night, and it was still early. I mean…
“You could come with me,” I offered with a smile.
His hands reached into his pockets. “I don’t dance.”
I squinted at him in evaluation. “I don’t know…you’ve got some J-Lo hips in there somewhere.”
Adam snorted sarcastically before shaking his head and crossing his arms.
Well, I’d tried. I wasn’t one to beg, and as I said before, Dad came first. If Adam was the type of man to be offended or off put by that, then it was best to know now.
I twirled the band on my keys around my wrist, catching them in my palm. “Your loss. Could’ve made you a really great dance partner…” I dragged out. Then I turned on my heel, hoping for some resistance on his end.
But Adam didn’t resist. He watched as I walked to the front door. Blowing a kiss to Layla and waving a hand at Calla, I wrapped my arms around my torso and stepped outside, then walked briskly to my car.
I’d meant what I said to Adam the last time I saw him. I didn’t have time to date or do anything more than that. Didn’t mean I didn’t want him to try a little. It was a shame. I did like him a lot. But the dad test was a tried-and-true trial to see someone’s intentions with me. If they weren’t comfortable coming to see my father with me, then chances were we couldn’t be friends. And we certainly couldn’t be more.
That was okay. It was a good thing, really. Easier to let that settle in now rather than down the road when my expectations were unrealistic. I was just going to have to ogle Adam from across the room at every Wells family event from here on out. At Luke and Layla’s wedding, we would make awkward eye contact with an uncomfortable wave. I would leave early because of “a bad stomachache,” and that would become the new normal.
“Rachel!” A raspy shout from behind me stopped my hand from opening the car door.
Adam jogged down the busy street, weaving around tourists, with a hand in the air, signaling for me to wait up. My heart leaped out of my chest, my pulse racing and heat rising under my skin as he approached.
He rubbed the back of his neck and then crossed his arms. “I, uh. I’ll go.”
My entire face lifted, a smile slowly pulling up and my eyebrows rising. Adam Wells was going dancing with me. I felt the undeniable urge to go find my journal from sixth grade and write an entry in it. Dear diary, a strong, tattooed pirate is whisking me away for a night of ballroom dancing with the highly elite at the Graceful Care Community Center. Suck it, Nancy from homeroom.
Adam, seeing my pleased expression, dropped his eyebrows. “I’m not dancing.”
Hmm, we would see about that.