Chapter Six #2
I pulled up a stool. “Canyon!” I said, smiling around that old nickname of his. He’d been a freaking force of nature in high school. Captain of the football team, life of the party. I’d been so jealous, never knowing if I wanted to be his friend, or if I wanted to be him.
He chuckled. “Seven! Fancy seeing you again.”
I groaned. “Oh, man. Don’t remind me.” Just one more connection to a past me I didn’t want to resurrect. “I never got a chance to chat with you last night. This place was booming. Do you ever get a break?”
“No rest for the wicked.” He reached up to hang a wineglass overhead, and I studied the long snake tattooed on his dark skin, evidence of how much life he’d lived since high school.
He sported short spikey dreads up top with a fade along the sides.
The style suited him. His mahogany eyes shot back to me. “What brings you to town?”
“Job interview.” I slid a menu over, my stomach grumbling at the delicious aromas filling the restaurant. “What’s good here?”
“It’s brunch, so y’know. Eggs?” He threw a dish towel over his shoulder and leaned against the counter. “The French toast is good. You want some coffee?”
It felt weird asking him to wait on me, but yeah, I needed some caffeine. I nodded, relieved when he flagged a waitress. While she took my order, Kyan disappeared, returning moments later with a steaming mug.
Shit. I was going to have to tip freaking Kyan King. The world could be so weird. “Thanks,” I said. “I’m sorry to bother.”
He just laughed. “No problem, man. It’s coffee.”
I blew on the hot liquid, then set the mug down to cool. “It’s good to see you.”
“Yeah. Wondered where you’d disappeared off to.”
I should have kept in touch with everyone better, but I’d been hesitant to confront that old version of myself. “I’ve been around,” I said, wrapping my hands around the mug. A non-answer. “What about you? What have you been up to since high school?”
“Shit. It’s not that interesting.” He dropped down below the bar and came up with a bowl of lemons. He set one on a cutting board and quartered it. “After I graduated, I had a football scholarship to VA Tech, but I never went.”
“Why not?”
“Planned to, but my nan got real sick.” He kept cutting lemons, and I wondered at the symbolism.
“Sorry to hear that.”
He waved a hand. “She’s okay. I was never much into school anyway, and then I met some musicians and fell in love with the vagabond life.”
“I never knew you played.” As if we’d ever been that close.
He laughed, setting aside a small army of lemon wedges and wiping down the bar. “Oh yeah. I thought myself too cool to join the high school band, but when I was alone, I’d fiddle around with my dad’s old steel guitar.”
My breakfast arrived: eggs, bacon, home fries, toast, juice.
Perfection. I started eating, picturing high school Kyan.
I’d never seen him alone, ever, but watching him now, methodically setting up this bar, responsible, focused, I realized he probably wasn’t the person I’d always imagined.
Were any of us? “High school was such a weird time.”
He snorted. “No kidding.”
“Speaking of.” I dragged the toast through the busted egg yolk. “I ran into an old friend last night.”
His brow shot up. “Who?”
“Lizzy Graham. Do you remember her?”
His forehead creased. “Lizzy Graham? Nah.”
Trying to jog his memory, I drew from what I recalled. “She lived at the lake. Blond hair, played in the band? In the honors program?”
“You talking about Lizzy Grant?”
“Might have been.” I’d had that thought myself, but then she hadn’t corrected me. Maybe she’d misheard me.
“Oh, yeah, sure. I think she tutored me in… I wanna say chemistry. Real nice girl. Haven’t seen her in a while.”
“Did you keep in touch?”
“Nah, but everyone follows me on socials.” Because of course they did. “Except you.” He shot me an accusatory glance, and it made me feel extra shitty for always bailing instead of just dealing with my trauma.
I slid out my phone and found his profile easily enough. “Rectifying that right now.”
Once I added him, I hit the search on his friend list until I found Elizabeth Grant, or Liz as she was listed. Her profile picture showed nothing but a field of flowers. I hit Add Friend.
“Added you both.”
“Where’d you see Lizzy, anyway?” he asked, glancing toward a couple who’d settled onto stools at the end of the bar.
“I was over at the Skybar, and she was there with her friend, Chelsea.”
He dragged a rag across the bar. “I know a Chelsea. Works at the coffee shop just down the way. Friends with one of our bartenders here. Wild girls, those two. At least when they’re together.”
Probably a common enough name. “I forgot her last name.”
“Was it Abbott?”
That rang a bell. “Maybe.” I took a bite of toast and thought as I chewed. “Dark hair, sassy attitude, curvy as fuck.”
“Sounds like Chelsea Abbott.” He opened a jar of pearl onions and spooned some into a metal tin. “You’re sure she was with Lizzy? Because it sounds kind of like…”
“Yeah. She recalled me from high school.” I wasn’t about to share exactly how well we’d reconnected.
“Huh, okay. Funny. If that was Chelsea Abbott, I’m surprised you didn’t run into her sidekick. They’re usually inseparable.”
“Nope. Just the two of them.” I finished my food and pushed back the plate.
“How much longer you here for?”
I swallowed the rest of my coffee, wishing I had time for a refill. “I’m on my way out. I was only in town for a job interview.”
I stood and reached for my wallet, but he waved me away. “On the house, man.”
And that made me feel even worse since I probably earned more in a couple of hours than he made all day. But I knew how to take a kind gesture. “Thanks, man.” I stretched my hand out for a shake. “It was cool seeing you.”
He clasped mine tight. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t.” I found I meant it.
With a spring in my step, I headed back to my hotel and packed everything up.
My mind raced with the prospects before me: Baltimore, Ithaca, or Charlottesville.
In Baltimore, the salary would be higher, and the larger market could launch me toward a big-time news organization, maybe even a national network.
But did I want that kind of pressure? I loved the science of meteorology, and I didn’t even mind being on camera, but I didn’t love total strangers approaching me like they knew me. That would only get worse in the big leagues.
In the smaller markets of Charlottesville and Ithaca, I’d still get recognized, but I’d already dealt with that level of minor celebrity.
Both were gorgeous towns where I could build a life without working horrible hours or competing with other “personalities” jockeying for visibility.
In a small town, I could lay down roots eventually.
All things considered, Charlottesville had the stronger pull, both emotionally and logically.
Financially, Shelby’s final offer had been more competitive—after I negotiated.
Not to mention, I already had friends here. Bas, now Kyan.
And Elizabeth.
Was I being honest about my rationale?
In the airport terminal, as I waited for my flight, I texted Bas to let him know I was heading out. That’s when I saw the notification: Liz Grant had accepted my friend request. I smiled like the cat who swallowed the canary.
And just like that, I made my decision.
I opened the chat window and wrote, Guess what? I’m taking a job in Charlottesville!
Three dots appeared, disappeared, reappeared, then finally a short message popped up. What?
I bit my lip and responded, Right? I’m supposed to start in a few weeks.
I sighed, satisfied that things were finally going my way. When my phone vibrated, I fought a crazy grin, until I read the message: I’m not sure why you think I’d care.
I stared at my phone, blinking like it would clear my eyes enough to make sense of the words. Was this a joke?