Chapter 4
Marina
I clutch my work bag on the bus ride home as if it contains the CIA answer files on every mystery in the world. My regular work day is normally crammed full of things to handle for Ms. Taft, but I managed to do some internet research on Ethan Montclair between projects. I printed everything out, stuffed it in my bag, and plan to spend the evening reading. But first…home, comfy clothes, and whatever food I can scrounge up.
Just before my stop, I change my hat, take my coat off, and drape it over my arm. I step off the bus and dart into my building, bounding up the stairs to my apartment with renewed energy. With any luck, Ashley is already home from work, and I can bounce ideas off her.
As soon as I’m inside the apartment, the heavenly smell of Ash’s lasagna hits me full force. I grin from ear to ear, take my hat off, toss my bags in the entry, and practically run to the kitchen, throwing my arms around her. She laughs and shoves me away.
“I love it when you make lasagna!” I cry, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. I pull a bar stool up to the small kitchen counter and plop myself down.
Ashley throws a few frozen breadsticks on a cookie sheet and puts it in the oven with the lasagna that smells ready to come out. Yum. She eyes me curiously.
“What’s up with you?” she asks coolly. “You seem…happier than usual.”
I squirm with excitement. “I am! Good things are on the horizon, Ash. If I make one little meeting a success at work.”
I fill her in on the details of the contract with Montclair and Ms. Taft’s offer to make sure I’m rewarded if I pull it off. Ashley rolls her eyes at the mention of my boss, who she completely hates.
“Ms. Taft,” she scoffs as she pulls two plates out of the cabinet. “That woman is evil. And her offer is too vague, Marina. She’ll make sure you’re rewarded? With what?”
I think for a moment. Ashley doesn’t wait for an answer.
“A thousand-dollar bonus?” she muses. “A new car? Jelly of the month club? It could mean anything.”
“Oh!” I exclaim as I remember my near heart attack today. “She saw the news footage this morning, and I nearly died. Luckily, she’s too self-absorbed to even imagine that her quiet, meek assistant could be dressed up like a mermaid and singing with a rock star in the middle of a traffic jam.”
Ashley giggles.
“She paused the video to show it to me,” I say excitedly. “I thought I was caught for sure. But she just wanted to show me that I have a twin out there somewhere.”
“She doesn’t think any of her people have a life,” Ashley muses. “You should have asked her for details on what rewarding you means…it gives her too much freedom to back out.”
“No one asks questions when it comes to Ms. Taft,” I explain. “But I’ve seen how she rewards people, Ash. Huge bonuses. Promotions. All I want is a letter of reference for a good law school. Well, and I wouldn’t turn down a bonus.”
Ashley leans her hip on the counter and folds her arms across her chest.
“You don’t have to worry so much, you know,” she tells me, a look of genuine concern on her face. “We haven’t even set a date for the wedding yet. Greg is too busy. It’s going to be awhile before you need to think about a new roommate or another apartment.”
I smile at Ash, cupping my chin in my hand and leaning my elbow on the counter. I look around at our apartment and smile. It’s insanely expensive to live in this city, so it’s small and in a questionable neighborhood at best, but it’s ours. I could live farther away, outside the city, but then I’d need a car and all the expenses that carries. Being roommates with Ash has been the perfect solution for me, and, to be honest, I don’t know what I’m going to do once she moves on with her life.
“I’m not worried,” I say in the standard, airy voice I use when I’m worried and don’t want people to know. “I’ll be fine.”
She nods with an expression that shows me she knows I’m full of it. “Yes, you will be…because I’m not going to let you down.”
I make a face. “You’re not letting me down by living your life, Ash,” I say softly. “If Greg is the one for you, then I’m happy for you. You belong with each other. You shouldn’t need to worry about me.”
“But I do. You’ve worked so hard to gain your independence, and I know you worry about backsliding. I just feel like you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the next bad thing to happen…and I want you to know that I will never let anything bad happen to you, Marina. You’re my best friend.”
Without a word, I get up from my perch, walk into the kitchen, and throw my arms around Ashley again. She squeezes me back hard in one of those really great, super strong friend hugs. Suddenly, I’m on the verge of tears and desperately need to change the subject. I let go quickly.
“Can we eat that before it burns?” I say with a laugh, grabbing the plates and setting them on the counter.
“Oh geez!” Ashley gasps, grabbing the oven mitts and rescuing the breadsticks first. She pulls the lasagna out next, then gets silverware from the drawer and puts them out for us. “C’mon, tell me about your big plans to win the contract while we let that cool a few minutes.”
***
Twenty-four hours later, I’ve done more research on Montclair and his inner circle, and the media still hasn’t let the mermaid story die out—although right now, the theory is that Zach hired me as part of a publicity stunt. The attention is still mostly on him, which is both a blessing and a curse. I don’t know how many videos I watched of him on my phone last night while drifting off to sleep, but it was enough to make me dream about him.
I’m full of inspiration as I step outside the apartment and pop open an umbrella. The library is ten blocks north and since it’s raining just hard enough to need an umbrella, I’m not in danger of being identified by anyone. It’s chilly out, even with the jeans and cozy gray sweater I changed into when I got home, and I pull my jacket tighter while I walk. I’m grateful for the chance to just be silent for a while. The sounds of the city are my only companion. The pitter-patter of rain. A car honking in the distance. The musical ding of a cable car somewhere nearby. The sound of my boots on the sidewalk. I let it wash over me like a kind of music, lulling me into a sense of calm so I can think. My mind begins ruminating over my duet with Zach on the bridge, his invitation to the benefit concert this Sunday, and my reluctance to go.
Ashley knows me better than anyone. In fact, she’s the first close friend I’ve ever had. We found each other in college, both of us instantly feeling like we’d known each other forever. There’s something about Ashley that I know I can trust, even in my first year of college when I had just aged out of the foster care system. Before Ash, I tried to minimize my interactions with everyone in my life. Having long been labeled a problem kid, I spent most of those years living in a group home for troubled teens. New kids came and went like there was a revolving door on the place. Some kids were lucky and were adopted by families, but most of us were stuck there until our 18th birthday.
While many of the girls in the group home I lived in went right back to the families they’d been taken away from as children, my situation was different. My only family was my brother, and I believed he was far better off without me. So I reached for the only lifeline I had: a college education, thanks to grants and assistance available only to newly minted adults who aged out of foster care. Soon after, I met Ashley one night in a coffee house on campus when she spilled her drink on her laptop, and I jumped in with a trusty pack of tissues.
She knows my whole story. She knows how I struggled after my mom was killed in a car accident. She knows about my brother and the absolute shame I feel over the whole situation. When she realized I didn’t have a family, she welcomed me into hers—which consisted of her and her father, her mother having died from cancer years before.
The following year, Scarlet and her mother landed in our lives. Merry came soon after, along with her entire crazy family. Now I have this sort of patchwork family, all of whom love me and want me to succeed—and I know Ashley means it when she says she’s not going to let anything bad happen to me. Any one of my found family would take me in, but after growing up a burden…first to my overworked, underpaid mother, then to six different foster families, and finally to a state-funded home…I am prouder than the average person to be standing on my own two feet. I’m going to do everything in my power to be ready to handle Ashley moving out, which is why it’s so important that we get the Montclair contract.
I spot a familiar polka-dot raincoat ahead of me and realize I’m already at the library. Little Miss Amanda, a precocious five-year-old, is holding her foster mother’s hand as they walk up the sidewalk together. I smile as I walk up the steps to the library, having been so lost in my thoughts I don’t even remember the journey here.
***
Zach
I step inside the library doors, and the smell of books hits me instantly, bringing a quick smile to my face. I love libraries. As a kid, the one in our family home was my favorite place to spend time. Of course, when you’re a child and you’re growing up on your family’s ancestral estate…no other kids for miles but a pesky younger brother…where else would you go? Pirates, cowboys, kings and queens, musicians, and sailing ships were all waiting for me in the family library.
I walk into the main room of the library and take a moment to absorb my surroundings. Large oak tables are neatly lined up along either side of me, with brass lamps providing close-up lighting on each one. A large circular reception desk is in the center, and library employees are moving about, loading books on carts, or helping people find materials. The second floor looks down on the first, and antique wood railings border the opening that looks down to the reception area on the first floor. The distant thump and slide of books being pulled out and re-shelved, it’s impossible to tell which, echoes gently all around me.
“Can I help you find something, sir?” a library employee says from just behind me.
I turn to find a woman with honey-blond wavy hair, bright blue eyes, and a kind smile waiting for my answer. I smile back.
“I’m here for song night,” I answer quietly, half expecting her to eye me with suspicion because I don’t have a child with me. Instead, she nods with a warm expression.
“I was just about to head down there myself,” she says. “You can walk with me.”
I step back and motion for her to lead the way, and soon she’s leading me down one of the many corridors on the east side of the main room.
“I’m Danielle. Is this your first time here?” she asks as we walk.
I don’t miss it when her eyes dart around us. Yep, she’s wondering why a grown man with no child is interested in song night, and I instantly like her. I decide to put her at ease.
“I’m a…friend of Marina’s,” I say pensively.
Her kind eyes light up instantly. “Oh, how wonderful!” she exclaims softly. “She’ll be happy to see you.”
We reach a foyer just outside what is definitely the children’s wing. Crepe paper flowers and brightly colored butterflies are stuck to a three-dimensional tree coming up out of the center of the floor. She leads me to one side of it, gesturing to a brunette clerk behind a small desk.
“Cherie will check your cell phone for you,” Danielle says matter-of-factly.
Cherie waves a small ticket at me as if I’m supposed to know what to do. I look at Danielle in confusion.
“Check my cell phone for what?” I ask with a confused grin.
She guides me closer to the desk.
“We don’t allow cell phones in the children’s area,” she explains. “Some of the children who come to song night are in the foster care system. No cell phones, no photography.”
“No exceptions,” Cherie offers from behind the desk with a bright smile, holding her hand out. “I’ll keep it safe until you’re ready to go.”
Without another word, I pull my mobile from my jeans pocket, silence it, and place it in Cherie’s hand. She gives me half of the ticket she was waving and now it all makes sense. She sticks the other half of the ticket on my phone and puts it in a drawer.
I feel an arm loop around mine and I look down to see Danielle grinning up at me. “Shall we go see Marina, Mr. Adams? ”
My expression gives me away before I can say anything, and she places a reassuring hand on my arm.
“Don’t worry,” she whispers. “I won’t give you away. Although you’re so famous, that may not make a difference.”
I let her lead me into one of the rooms that spokes off the foyer. My eyes immediately find Marina, who is sitting on a small stool and talking to two little girls who’ve brought her a book to look at. Her hair is loose, falling in flattering waves that frame her beautiful face. Her green eyes light up as she listens to the girls tell her a story, and suddenly, my heart rate is all over the place. I feel a gentle pinch on my hand, and I look down at Danielle.
“Marina is special,” she says in a serious tone, her eyes full of concern as they study me.
I nod. “I couldn’t agree more.”
She gives me a warning look. “Just making sure we understand each other,” she says, walking away to greet some of the other adults milling about the room.
Thankfully, Marina is so engrossed with the children she doesn’t notice me. I find a spot in the corner and lean against the end of a bookcase, unable to keep my eyes off her as more children file into the room, followed by their parents.
“Marina!” a little boy yells at the top of his lungs as he runs at her from the entry door. A young woman trails behind, shushing the boy to no avail. She grabs the back of the boy’s shirt to stop him from plowing right into Marina.
Marina smiles sweetly at the boy, patting the stool next to hers. He sits obediently, and the young woman steps away and slumps against a table in the back of the room.
“Brandon, I’m so glad you’re here,” Marina tells the boy, who is fully enraptured. Can’t say I blame him. “Can you sit right here and help everyone remember that there’s no shouting in the library?”
He gives her a knowing look. Nothing gets by this kid. He says something to her, but I can’t quite hear it. She puts an arm around him and gives him a gentle squeeze. He looks up at her, and I suppress a laugh. I know that look.
Don’t steal my girl, kid.
I watch her engage with the children over the next several minutes, feeling my heart slip farther and farther away from me with every eyebrow raise…every soft laugh…every toss of her hair. She is a natural with these kids, and it’s obvious how much they love her. She is absolutely enchanting and I am in way over my head.
“All right, everyone, it’s almost time!” Danielle calls out as she comes to the front of the room. “Please take your seats and put on your listening ears so Miss Marina can sing for us.”
The kids rush to the center of the room in an adorable mob of ponytails, ball caps, and scuffed sneakers. They eagerly line up in neat rows, then sit down. All except Brandon, who’s still trying to steal my girl. I need to keep an eye on this kid.
As if reading my thoughts, Marina whispers something to Brandon and he looks disappointed for a moment, then sits on the floor right in front of her. As he stands up, his gaze falls on me and I can tell he recognizes me. His eyes light up in a way I know all too well. I’m only saved because Marina taps him on the shoulder and reminds him to sit down. She looks out at the sea of children in front of her.
“Hi everyone!” she greets in a melodious voice .
“Hi, Miss Marina!” the children answer together.
“I think tonight we’ll start with one we can all sing together,” she says. “Are you ready to sing with me?”
She’s rewarded with a chorus of yeses, squeals, and cheers. She laughs softly.
She begins singing “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” and the children immediately join in. Again, I’m lured in by her honey-smooth voice. It’s clear and pure, with a quality that instantly calms me. I can’t help the huge smile that comes as she uses her delicate hands to mimic the spider crawling up the water spout and the rain that washes him back down. The children do as she does, their voices strong and sure, their smiles wide as they end the song together and burst into applause.
“Very good!” she praises them, laughing genuinely and giving high fives to the kids in the front row. Brandon makes sure he gets his in there, then whirls around to see if I’m still here. When Marina begins speaking, he turns back around to give her his full attention.
“Wasn’t there a song someone wanted last time that we didn’t have time for?” she asks, scanning the children’s faces. Several little hands shoot up straight in the air.
“Katie?” Marina calls, pointing at a little girl with long blond braids.
“Kensly wanted that Cinderella song!” she says with a near-toothless grin.
Several kids around her nod their heads in eager agreement. The girl looks down at a slightly younger girl next to her, also with blond braids, and smiles. Big sister looking out for little sister, no doubt. Something squeezes at my heart a little.
“All right,” Marina says softly. “Before I sing it, what did we learn from Cinderella?”
Every hand shoots back up in the air. Marina begins calling on a few of the kids to share their answers.
“Be kind to everyone,” a little girl answers .
“Gus is fat!” a boy yells, then laughs.
Brandon raises his hand and Marina calls on him. “If magic was real, I’d wish you were my fairy godmother,” he says with a shy grin.
I can tell by Marina’s expression her heart melted a little over that one. I silently contemplate tying this kid’s shoelaces together in retaliation.
When Marina begins to sing “A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes”, everyone goes still. Even the kids, so wiggly and full of energy, are fully mesmerized by Marina’s soft, lilting version of the classic song. As she sings, she looks around the room, making eye contact with the kids as if the lyrics are meant only for them. Each child smiles when she gets to them, and whatever is squeezing my heart grips a little tighter. I rest my head against the bookcase I’m leaning on, a wide smile on my face as I listen to her beautiful voice.
As she gets to the final verse, her eyes drift up to mine suddenly. To her credit, she doesn’t miss a beat of the song, but her spine straightens, and her shoulders push back. Those bright green eyes burn into mine, and she has that look again. Like she’s on high alert and ready to run. I feel my smile fade a little, and I tilt my head at her, shaking my head just a little to let her know I’m not planning any grandiose bridge karaoke tonight. She seems to get my message and relaxes a little.
The children and their parents burst into applause when she finishes the song, then turns to the audience and bows her head slightly. Brandon looks back at me again, then smiles and gives me a little wave. I wave back quickly and motion for him to turn around and pay attention to Marina. He does, thankfully.
I spend the next forty minutes watching Marina completely enthrall the room full of kids and their parents. Or guardians, I realize, since Danielle shared that some of these kids are in foster care. Between songs, Marina asks them about their favorite books or what they like to do after school, and then she manages to sing a song that has something to do with that. Occasionally, her eyes meet mine. Like when she led the children in singing “If You’re Happy and You Know It” and she raised her eyebrows at me to make sure I was clapping along. I absolutely did.
Marina tells the kids there’s only time for one more song, and there’s a collective chorus of groans. All the adults laugh, some getting coats and jackets ready. I look at my watch. I can’t believe it’s nearly been an hour. Marina is in her element, laughing and chatting with the kids. I can feel myself slipping more and more under her spell. She laughs softly at something one of the children says, and I feel myself grin in response. I can’t take my eyes off Marina, and that’s exactly why I don’t see Brandon stand up and point right at me.
“Can Mr. Zach sing the last song with you?” he asks loudly, a huge smile on his face.