Chapter 22
22
Keith pushed his hands into his front pockets as he watched the red Jeep leave. The gut punched feeling came as a surprise to the man who wasn’t ready to meet another woman. Two divorces, both painful. How could this ray of sunshine pique his interest? But she had from the moment he looked into her blue eyes several weeks ago.
Chip stepped up beside him. “People are starting to gather. Let’s go.”
As Keith walked toward the entrance of the hotel, he was flanked by Chip and Max.
“She seems nice,” Max said.
“Like no one I’ve ever met before,” Keith said pensively.
Chip scoffed. “They’re all nice in the beginning, Keith. It’s after they get their claws into your bank accounts that they turn nasty. At least she won’t be trying to have your next baby.”
Keith cut his eyes toward Chip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Chip pressed the elevator call button. “I looked at her profile while you were dancing. She has three grown children, and she’s fifty. I don’t know a lot about women’s reproductive organs, but I do believe fifty is a tad old to birth children.” The side of his mouth pulled into a half smile. “So, y’all can fuck like rabbits with no repercussions.”
Keith clenched his teeth. “Don’t talk about her like that. She’s not like that.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know, okay?” He scrubbed his hand down his face as soon as they stepped into the elevator and the doors closed. “She’s a widow. She’s nice. And she wasn’t looking for me. She wasn’t intentionally throwing herself in my path.”
“How do you know?”
“The coffee shop. She had no clue who I was. It’s just...”
“Just what?”
“Oh fuck, I’m going to be the schmuck,” Keith said softly.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“When our eyes met, it was like... I could breathe normally for the first time in a long time. I wasn’t a movie star. I was only a man.”
“Why are you going to be a schmuck?”
“I’m not.” He cleared his throat. “I won’t be fooled again,” he said the words even as he knew he’d do anything for Michelle.
When they stood in the hallway outside their respective doors, Chip looked at Keith, trying to be the voice of reason. “Look, man, I get it. She’s beautiful, and she didn’t just drop at your feet.” He sighed. “Think with your big head, not your small one, okay?”
Keith chuckled. “Only you’d say that to me.”
“I’ve been with you a long time, Keith. I’ve seen the women come and go. I’ve seen you get involved with some you shouldn’t have. I don’t want to see you make the same mistake with this one so soon after your divorce is final.”
“I appreciate that. If you see me moving too fast or doing something stupid, you have my permission to bring it to my attention.”
Chip laughed. “Like I’d wait for your permission.”
Keith smiled and bid the men goodnight. He opened his door and checked the time on his phone. She hadn’t been gone an hour yet and he was ready to climb the walls. Was this what Chip was talking about? He took a deep, calming breath. He wasn’t going to rush this. He’d give her time to show her true colors. If she was just after him for fame and fortune, he’d know soon enough. If she wasn’t, he’d know that too. He poured a drink from the minibar and slouched on the comfortable sofa in the living area of his suite. He turned on the television and placed his feet on the coffee table. The welcome screen popped up, showing the hotel’s amenities. He quickly flipped through the channels when he came across the local news station. On the screen, he and Michelle were dancing with the caption “Who’s the Lucky Lady?”
“What the hell?” he said into the empty room. He looked at his phone. It had been close to an hour, so he called under the illusion of wanting to warn her before she turned on her television. He sat straighter, putting his feet on the floor, then pressed her number. His knee bounced until he heard the call connect.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s me . . . Keith.”
“Hi.”
“Are you home yet?”
“Just pulled into my driveway.”
“Good. Um, listen, don’t turn on your TV.”
“Why? You found another dance partner after I left?” she teased.
“No, I came straight to my room. It’s the local news. They have a clip of us dancing.”
She gasped. “How?”
“They must have paid someone for the video off their phone.”
“Crap.” He heard her say as she turned off her vehicle and walked inside her house.
“Michelle?”
“Yeah, I’m here. My mind is racing, and I don’t know what to say.”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve thought about this, but I needed to speak with you, hold you.” His voice was barely above a whisper by the time he said the last words.
“It’s... I recently started dating again, and having my face on TV wasn’t something I planned on. If someone figures out who I am...”
“They don’t know. That was the caption. They’re wondering who you are. The video clip only shows part of your face. The still picture from the video is of my face and your back. Your face isn’t seen.”
“Thank God for that.”
“Was dancing with me that bad?”
She laughed. “Not at all. You’re a good dancer, but what’s the point in everybody getting their tailfeathers in a bunch if we never see each other again? I mean, what’re the odds?”
A long silence stretched before Keith spoke again. “I was hoping the odds of us seeing each other again were very good. I don’t ask for women’s numbers that I never want to see again, Michelle.”
“Oh, I didn’t know... I thought it was just a dance and your being polite. I’d never assume...”
“Stop.” He leaned forward, sat his drink on the coffee table, and stood. Reminding himself that she didn’t know him, he walked to the window overlooking the grassy knoll. With the moonlight shining, the grass almost looked white. Keith could imagine what the place looked like with snow on the ground if his mind wasn’t occupied with the woman breathing into the phone. He ran his fingers through his hair as he stared out the window. “I’m going to tell you something that I normally don’t tell a lot of people, but for some reason, I think you need to know this... need to hear this from me sooner rather than later.”
“Okay . . .”
“My first wife and I met in college, before all of this... the movies, the stardom, any of it. The more I grew in my career, the more she wanted no part of it. She chose to leave. She wanted the man I was in college, not a movie star with all the trappings that go along with it. I didn’t want my marriage to end, but I didn’t get a say in the decision. It hurt like hell.” He took a deep breath. “I worked and lived like a hermit for a while before I started dating again. I dated for several years after that divorce, nothing serious. I’m sure you saw all the pictures in the magazines. Everyone did. Then a mutual friend introduced me to my recent ex-wife. I thought she loved me. She gave me two wonderful boys, but they were an insurance policy for her. She knew I wouldn’t leave them, and she kept control over me because of them. She cheated, Michelle, not me. I remained faithful even though we could hardly be in the same room together in the end without bickering. I’d spend a lot of time at my ranch in Montana. I’d take the boys with me when they could go. For the first time in over thirty years, I’ve met someone who intrigues me. I don’t want my job to be a deterrent. I wasn’t joking when I said I wanted to get to know you. So, tell me, Michelle, what are my odds?”
“Good,” she squeaked, then cleared her throat. “I didn’t expect you to tell me that. I won’t tell anyone. That’s your story, but thank you for sharing it with me.” Did she share about Bill? Was she ready? It would only be fair with what he’d told her. She inhaled deeply. “As you know, I’m widowed. We also met in college, got married and had twenty-seven wonderful years before he was suddenly taken from us. A truck driver had a heart attack and T-boned Bill’s pickup truck. He was pinned between a tree and the semi. He was...” She took a minute to breathe. “He was dead when help arrived. We never got to say goodbye. He was just gone. That was two years ago. We have three beautiful children, all grown. I’ve been on three disastrous dates in the last month or so and had all but decided this wasn’t for me. I wasn’t looking for you the first time we met or now, but I’m open to see where this goes, whether it’s just a friendship or... more. And Keith, I’ve never told anyone what I just told you. Only my family and Jackie know the details of Bill’s death.”
“Why did you share that with me?”
“It felt only right after what you told me.”
“I like that. We’re starting at ground zero with a clean slate.”
“Seems so.”
“Is there anything I should know? I mean, I don’t want to do something that’d cause you never to speak to me again.”
“For right now... don’t make this seem more than what it is.”
“Which is what?”
“Two adults meeting for the first time.” Silence stretched between them. “I hope the start of a friendship.”
“That’s a good place to start.”
Seemingly trying to take them back to neutral ground, she asked, “How long are you in Asheville for?”
“We’re supposed to check out of the hotel tomorrow and drive to Boone.”
“Oh, that soon?”
“Just like you, I didn’t plan on meeting anyone. I’d like to see you before I leave, though.”
“That’s going to be hard on a Sunday morning. There isn’t a lot open around here.”
“Please tell me that you know of someplace, anyplace that’ll be open.”
“Hmm, I do, but it’s small and old. A bunch of old-timers who probably wouldn’t know who you are go there. I could get them to save the back table if you’d like.”
“Can you get two? I don’t want Chip and Max sitting with us.”
She giggled. “I think that can be arranged. What time?”
“How long will it take us to get there?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“Are they open at nine?”
“That’s probably a good time. Their breakfast crowd starts at six. And, by the way, you may be required to sign a couple of autographs.”
“If it means that I get to see you, I’ll gladly sign just about anything.”
“What won’t you sign?”
“Body parts.”
“I think you’re safe there. I don’t think a burly farmer will raise the leg of his overalls for you to sign his hairy leg.” She laughed.
He laughed too. “I like the sound of that.”
“Of what?”
“Your laughter.”
“Oh . . .”
He chuckled. “Text me where we’re going so I can let Chip know.”
“I will when we hang up.”
“I don’t want this to end, but it’s getting late, and since I’ll see you in the morning, I bid you a good evening, Michelle Conroy.”
“Good night, Keith Mason.”