Beneath the Stars Page 13

  “Like my soul.” I grin.

  She giggles. “So morbid.”

  I chuckle, enjoying the lightness that being around Anna always provides. It’s surprisingly good to be back.

  Sam walks in, wrapping an arm around Anna’s waist, kissing her on the temple as he pulls down a mug with his free hand. What the two of them share is something special. He cherishes her, and she gives it back in spades. A pang smacks the center of my chest. Watching their moment makes me wish I had spent less time lost in my shit, and more time modeling myself after them.

  “Are you two off to the office this mornin’?” Anna asks.

  Sam nods, sipping from his coffee. “Yep, time to show Chase the lay of the land.” His gaze moves to me. “A lot’s changed since you’ve worked there. We’ve expanded, do a lot of work in the neighboring towns. In fact, we just landed a new contract. It’ll be the perfect project to get your feet wet. Those city folks do it differently than we do around here. We’ve gotta ease you in.” He winks.

  Jackson & Co. was a great opportunity, and I gained a lot of experience in my time there, but I missed being able to actually work with my hands during a project. This will be a nice change.

  “What’s the project?”

  “A renovation to a dance studio in Sweetwater. They want the main area gutted and redone. Shouldn’t be too much of a hassle, other than the owner being a bit of a control freak.” He makes a face. “But you won’t need to deal with her much. One of their office managers will be working with you on the details.”

  I grimace at the thought of someone who knows nothing about construction being involved in the details.

  I just hope they aren’t a distraction.

  Journal Entry #315

  It’s easier being back in Sugarlake than I expected. Not gonna lie, part of me thought I’d be greeted with pitchforks and an angry mob. Fucking ridiculous. Nobody even knows I’m here. THEY probably aren’t even here anymore.

  I was nervous as shit when I stepped into Sugarlake Construction for the first time in eight years. I kept looking around for Goldi’s dad, Mr. Carson, but I didn’t see him. I’m surprised he would have retired but I can’t bring myself to ask Sam about him. They used to be close and he hasn’t brought him up, so neither do I.

  Marissa called, already wanting to come down, but I made an excuse. It’d be nice to get some relief by sinking into her pussy for a while, but I’m not ready to bring her here. Not sure I ever will be. I’ll process that clusterfuck later.

  The past week has been filled with getting acclimated and I can’t lie - I’m fucking impressed as hell with what Sam’s done. I see the passion and pride in everything he shows me. I hope I don’t let him down.

  I start at the new job site on Monday. It’s in the preliminary stages right now, just designs and shit like that. I’m meeting the person who will be my main point of contact and I hope they aren’t a nuisance.

  As long as they stay out of my way and let me do my job, things will be just fine.

  23

  Alina

  Twenty-Six Years Old

  “That’s basically it.”

  I nod my head along with Regina, the owner of Tiny Dancers studio—and officially my new boss as of ten minutes ago. I’m not teaching dance, as much as I wish it were the case, but being the office manager is a foot in the door. The pay is great. I’ll be able to quit my job at the diner, and Tiny Dancers is one of the best children’s dance studios in all of East Tennessee. I’ll fetch coffee and Xerox copies ‘til my fingers bleed as long as I get to be part of something. Feel like I’m on the way to something bigger.

  “… so enjoy your weekend, and be here bright and early on Monday morning, ready to go.”

  Shoot. I zoned out and missed half of what she said.

  “Great!” I smile wide, hoping she doesn’t realize I ignored her.

  “Oh, before I forget. You’ll be the ‘go-to’ for the incoming contractor. I’ve outsourced the renovation to a company that’s about twenty minutes away from town. They’re aware that I’d like us to be very involved in the process.”

  “You want me to be the ‘go-to?’” I look around the massive studio. “Don’t you think it should be somebody, you know, who’s worked here for more than a day?”

  She laughs. “Oh honey, you’ll do just fine. I would do it myself if I had the time, but I don’t. That’s why I hired you in the first place. You’ll be busy in the office straightening up my lack of organization from the past ten years. All I need you to do is be a glorified babysitter.” She waves her hand around the space. “You know how construction workers are. Milking the clock and trying to make an extra dollar from their clients wherever they can.”

  I grit my teeth to stop the sass that’s dying to escape. Lord, give me strength. I’m offended on behalf of construction workers everywhere.

  “So, you want me to hang out while they’re workin’? Won’t I be in their way?”

  She gives me a pointed look. “Just keep an eye on them, keep them in line. Be professional and make sure they stay that way, too.”

  I nod. “Got it. Professional.”

  We wrap up our conversation and I walk outside to breathe in the fresh Tennessee air. It’s a beautiful day, and I finally feel like things are starting to look up. Sure, my boss is a bit of a megalomaniac, and a teensy-bit overbearing—but I already missed out on one opportunity to further my dreams, so I’m holding on to this one with everything in me.

  About a year ago, I came across a quote by one of my favorite authors, C.S. Lewis, and it changed my life.

  “You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.”

  Those words dug deep inside of me and pulled up the little bit of self-worth I had left. I was tired of waiting on a miracle, and I wasn’t taking any steps to change my own future. So, I mustered up the courage to move out of Daddy’s and into a place of my own. It’s been hard. I feel like I’ve abandoned him. Every day’s a struggle, I won’t lie. But he was sucking me down, and I realized that in order to help him, I had to help myself first.

  So here I am in my little four-hundred square foot studio apartment, right above the bakery on Main Street. It’s not much, but it’s mine and I love it. I’m far away enough from Daddy where I get some peace, and close enough to be there when he needs me. Now all I have to do is get him to admit he needs help. I still get the middle of the night phone calls—Johnny from The Watering Hole now has my personal cell number. I’m half-convinced they keep it on speed dial. Whenever Daddy drinks too much to drive, they call me.

  There’s never a time where Daddy doesn’t drink too much.

  I’m just getting cozy on my couch with a good book when my phone chimes with a text.

  Jax: Hey sweetheart. On a scale of 1-10, how much are you missing me?

  I roll my eyes, grinning.

  Jax is away more than he’s home, these days. His work is in high demand, and that demand is out in California. Where dreams are made. Movies need fancy cars, and fancy cars need someone who knows how to keep them pretty.

  Me: Like a hole in the head. Seriously, how long are you gone?

  Jax: I’m not sure, but this producer is a pain in the ass. I’m ready to be home yesterday.

  Before I can respond, another text comes through.

  Jax: He already hates me. And even worse, his kid daughter is driving me CRAZY!

  I smile thinking about a little girl with a crush on Jax.

  Me: Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad!

  Jax: It is. I miss you. Come save me?

  I laugh, taking my phone and sitting outside on the Juliet balcony. This is my favorite time of day. Right before the sun meets the horizon when the sky is stuck in twilight. The smells are crisp, the air is dewy, and the cicadas start their song. I close my eyes and relax, a genuine smile taking over my face for the first time in what feels like forever.

  The smile is still on my face the next day
when I show up at Logan’s. It’s been a week since we’ve met up and I’ve gotten used to the type of relief he provides. Our time together quiets the voices that beat down on my soul. It’s a nice reprieve. One I’m taking full advantage of.

  “Dang, my ears are numb.” I giggle, rolling over in Logan’s bed, high from the orgasm he just gave me.

  He’s standing by his dresser and smirks at my comment. “Your ears are numb?”

  “Yeah, that never happens to you?”

  He laughs, shaking his head. “I can’t say it does.”

  He crawls onto the bed, leaning down to bite my neck. It’s nice what we have. No emotions, no strings. No exclusivity. It’s the perfect arrangement, and I dread the day some girl sweeps him off his feet, and he ends our tryst.

  “I’ve gotta go.” He stands up, grabbing his jeans and pulling them on. “You can chill here if you want, just lock up on your way out.”

  I decide to take my time, going to his kitchen to brew some coffee while I peruse the magazines on his counter. Who still has magazines?

  “Sugar Pie Honey Bunch” blares through the living room and I groan in frustration. Only Jax would set his ringtone to something so obnoxious. I take my time answering.

  “Hey, Teeth.”

  “Sweetheart. So good to hear your voice. What are you doing right now?”

  “Right now?” I look around Logan’s living room and cringe. Jax doesn’t approve of my relationship with Logan—which is rich considering he’s the king of sex with no strings. “I’m havin’ some coffee at Logan’s, thinkin’ of all the ways to strangle you for messin’ with my ringtone, again.”

  He groans. “When are you gonna cut that guy loose, Alina? He’s only using you for one thing.”

  “I sure hope so.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he sighs into the phone.

  “Oh please, Jackson. I swear, I can’t with you. Actin’ like a man can get his jollies anytime, and a woman needs to wait for some big love.”

  He’s silent. I know what this is really about, even if I don’t want to admit it. Jax wants things to go further with the two of us, but I’ve been clear it won’t happen. I wouldn’t be able to love him right. And if anyone deserves the ‘can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t breathe’ kind of love—it’s Jackson Rhoades.

  I change the subject, not wanting to argue. “How are things on set?”

  “Ugh. I can’t stand the people out here. I’ve worked with some pricks, but this guy, Donahue, thinks he shits out gold. To tell you the truth, I think he actually might.” He exhales before speaking softer. “He’s a giant in this industry. My dad’s dream is so close I can taste it, Lee.”

  “Then you’ve just gotta keep pushin’ through it, Jax. Your work will speak for itself. Your daddy would be so proud of you.”

  “You think so?”

  “I do.”

  He’s quiet for a moment. “Did I tell you he has this kid? She’s annoying as hell, and always in my ear asking a thousand questions about the cars I’m shaking down. I don’t know why he lets her on set.”

  “I thought you loved kids.”

  “I love little kids. Not nineteen-year-old brats who aren’t used to hearing the word no.”

  My eyes widen. “Nineteen isn’t exactly a kid, Jax.”

  “Tell me about it,” he says, more to himself than me.

  I hear a faint knock through the line and know he’s about to be stolen away.

  “Shit, sweetheart. I’ve gotta go. I expect a phone call Monday night so you can regale me with stories of how you kicked ass at your new job.”

  “You got it, Teeth.”

  I hang up the phone, melancholy infusing the air around me. I’m so proud of him for all his accomplishments. But I miss my friend.

  I spend the rest of the weekend wallowing in loneliness. Jax is gone and Becca is busy doing her daddy’s bidding at the church. Before I know it, it’s Monday morning.

  I wake up before my alarm. Dang, Lee. You’re killin’ this new job game. It’s not until I’m in the kitchen I realize I didn’t, in fact, wake up before the alarm, I slept through it.

  Shoot.

  I rush around the house. Sniff my armpits because a shower’s out the window, brush my teeth and try to tame my tangled hair. My only saving grace is that I laid out my outfit last night. I throw on the black pencil skirt and cream silk blouse I borrowed from Becca. It’s a little tight around my curves, but until I get my first paycheck this is as good as it’s going to get.

  I pull into Tiny Dancers five minutes late. There are two other vehicles in the lot and the lights are all turned on inside. The contractor must be here already. Great. Even though I don’t have the time, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, wiping my sweaty hands on the seat’s upholstery.

  It doesn’t matter that I’m a few minutes late. I’ll kick butt today, wow this contractor so he’ll sing my praises to Regina. Then I’ll go home, open my celebratory bottle of wine, and call Jax to tell him how amazing I am.

  With a nod of affirmation, I get out of my car, straighten my skirt and walk inside.

  24

  Alina

  It’s when I’m walking to the back office that I feel it. The shift in the air. It’s subtle—a ghost of a chill that flickers down my spine. What the heck? I brush it off, straightening my shoulders and walking through the open door.

  I don’t see him at first, but when I do—that chill drops like an iceberg, free-falling through my body and freezing me in place.

  This isn’t happening.

  This cannot be happening.

  “Alina! I was starting to wonder if you would even show up,” Regina says, smiling thinly. She’s annoyed, and rightly so. I should respond, but I don’t. I’m not sure I physically can since my heart has stalled in my chest.

  Chase Adams.

  I’d love him if I didn’t hate him so much.

  There’s a pencil behind his ear, a blueprint rolled up in his hand, and another laid out on the desk. But he isn’t looking at that. He’s locked on me, mouth partially open, hand frozen halfway through his silky, dark hair.

  He swallows, and my traitorous eyes track the way his throat bobs. “Goldi.”

  The nickname travels across the room and pierces me in the chest, snapping me out of my shock. “Don’t call me that.”

  He sucks in a breath, but clamps his mouth shut and nods.

  “You two know each other?” Regina points between the two of us.

  Chase starts to answer. “Yeah, actually we used—”

  “Our folks are neighbors,” I interrupt. “We grew up together, but no. I never really knew him.”

  I stand stoic, my gaze never straying from Regina. But I can feel him. My body hums, reminding me of the first time I saw him at eleven-years-old, and just like then, I have to clench my fists to keep from reaching out. Pathetic.

  He clears his throat. “Right.”

  Regina stands up and grabs her purse. Is she leavin’?

  “Well, that makes things easier then, considering the two of you will be spending lots of time together.”

  Chase goes rigid. “She’s my point of contact?”

  Regina looks at him, arching a brow. “Is that a problem?”

  “No, I just—I was under the impression I’d be dealing with an office manager.”

  “She is the office manager.”

  He glances my way. “Not an instructor?”

  I stay quiet, but the beat of my heart drowns the room with how hard it’s slamming against my chest. All of my energy goes toward keeping it together. Just a few hours and you can go home and fall apart in private.

  Regina laughs, a slight blush gracing her cheeks when she glances at Chase. Oh, honey. Don’t waste your time. “Instructor? I don’t need any instructors, I need someone who can file papers and show up on time. After this morning, I’m not even convinced she’s capable of that.”

  Embarrassment rises to my cheeks, and I literally ha
ve to bite my tongue to stop the retort. She has no idea what I’m capable of.

  I peek over at Chase, the blueprint in his fist gripped so tight it’s crumpling.

  Regina continues, “Anyway, since no introductions are needed, I’m off. You two have a lot to talk about, I’m sure. Chase, if you could just lay out for Alina what you did for me, that would be great. I’ll check in later this week.” She turns toward me. “Alina, I left a list of things for you to complete before the end of the day. Menial tasks, but my cell number is written at the bottom in case you have any questions. Let’s try to be on time tomorrow, hmm?” And with that, she’s out the door.

  The room is jarring with its silence. I keep my gaze locked on the desk, unwilling to be the first to break. Because I was always the first to break. I need him to see I’m not the same girl he once knew.

  “Goldi, I—”

  “I told you not to call me that. My name is Alina.” I bring my hand up to rub my pulsing forehead. “Can you just show me what you’ve got, so we can get this over with?”

  “Yeah, yes. Sure.” He shuffles his feet and attempts to smooth out the wrinkles on the blueprint he smashed.

  I cross my arms as I watch him. I thought he was grown in college, but clearly, God wasn’t done sculpting his masterpiece. His style hasn’t changed, still casual in a black t-shirt and dark blue jeans. But the veins that line his forearms and the way the cotton stretches around his shoulders has my mouth dry and my panties damp.

  I work my way up, drinking him in. It’s like I’m dehydrated, from going so long without seeing him. I get to his face and my eyes meet his. I gasp, my heart jumping from being caught. His gaze burns into me, and my stomach clenches. The threads of our connection come to life. They sizzle and pop, elated at our close proximity.

  “You look good, Alina.” His voice is husky.

  His words make me want to preen, but I catch myself—sickened by my reaction to him after all this time. After what he’s done.