“Since when?” His voice is hushed but angry nonetheless. I can’t help but notice he no longer smells of sea and salt.
“Two months ago. I got a call offering me a job and I took it. If I knew you had anything to do with it I wouldn’t have accepted.” I give my body a final yank and release myself from his grasp.
Asher’s eyes narrow on mine, becoming beady and accusatory. “I promise you I had nothing to do with you being here. Who would do this?” he asks, massaging the back of his neck with his hand.
Rubbing my arm, which is now tender from his abrasive hold, I lean back and look to my right. I’m about to tell him how I know Frank when I see a familiar giant in a black suit standing near an SUV on the corner, just behind the barricade.
Devon’s hands are clasped in front of his body, standing at attention. The two of us make eye contact and I am offered a kind smile and a shrug in apology.
Asher follows my gaze and lands on the not-so-innocent giant.
Without a word, he turns from me and makes his way toward Devon. I use the opportunity to rush inside and get my head together.
By seven o’clock my head is a flurry of new faces I will soon come to recognize and a sea of kind words from the many parents who walked through the door with their children in tow.
Since the media was here, I strolled the halls with them, showing the various classrooms and the teachers conducting lessons. Whenever someone asked for a quote on camera, I politely pointed them toward Frank.
I sat in on a violin lesson given by Lisa to seven students, a guitar introduction with one of our teachers, and the twelve teenagers who are dreaming of being the next Taylor Swift or Ed Sheeran or whoever their current idol is.
It’s been a hectic day I’ve been looking forward to it for six weeks. Problem is, I wasn’t expecting it to start the way it did.
With everyone gone for the day, I take a seat in one of the chairs in the corner of Crystal’s empty classroom. My small office doesn’t have a window so I come in here to enjoy the view. The sun is setting as I sit idly in the corner going through the schedule for tomorrow when the door swings open.
The sound of leather Oxford loafers echo in the empty room causing my head to rise and take in the figure walking in.
I swallow, hard, at the sight of him.
Six feet tall and absolutely stunning.
Asher walks into the room, each step controlled, commanding, and with purpose. He is wearing a black suit that frames his broad shoulders perfectly and is tailored to showcase his lean, narrow torso. His white shirt and silver-gray tie make him look like a man in charge. And he is. Because right now I couldn’t lead a moth to a flame if I tried.
His skin is still golden from his many months in the Mediterranean sun. Those gorgeous highlights are brushed back, accentuating the masculine structure of his face. And those eyes? Gone are the honey wheat, kind eyes. These here are so dark, I fear the Asher I know isn’t there anymore.
Maybe he never really existed.
I take a deep breath and steady myself in my seat. I am suddenly very nervous. Very much like the first time we met.
He takes in the classroom. His hands deep in his pockets as he looks over the decorations on the walls and the various seats and stands that are in place for the students to learn. The tick of his jaw is tight but his brows are closed, sloping at the ends; his lips are pursed as if he’s trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together.
It’s uncomfortable watching someone from a dark corner in the room. Part of me wonders if he even knows I’m here. He doesn’t say a word, nor does he look at me.
Still I can’t open my mouth to say anything.
“You’re not teaching?” he asks and I startle at the question.
Okay, so he does know I’m here.