Beck and Call (Pianos and Promises #2) Read online

  “Let’s not talk about Danny. He called me this morning and left me another message begging me to come back.”

  “Ugh. I’m sorry. No more talk of disgusting men.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “Well, Vince has been begging me to teach kick-boxing and Zumba on Sundays. I guess I’ll take him up on it.”

  “Sunday was your only day off.”

  I sighed. “I know. It will only be for half the day. And I still have Monday and Tuesday nights off to spend with Noah.”

  “Call, you need to slow down.”

  “I can’t, not yet. I’m working on building my personal training clients up, but it takes time. At least this way I won’t have to worry about getting out of shape.”

  “You’re in the best shape of anyone I know. If more of my patients took care of themselves like you, my job would be a whole lot easier.”

  “I keep reminding myself we all die eventually.”

  She laughed. “Hang in there, honey. Sorry things didn’t work out.”

  “Do they ever?”

  “I promise they will.”

  I was glad she couldn’t see me roll my eyes. She was too sweet for my sarcasm. I knew she meant well. Even she had her fair share of crap to deal with, namely her ex-husband who didn’t want to let go. But my life always seemed to be on the cusp of everything falling together only to unravel at the last moment.

  I ran home after my last class of the day to make dinner for Noah before I headed to Bangers. It was Friday night, which meant good tips, and even better, I was performing tonight. That always seemed to increase the patron’s generosity. Every little bit helped.

  Noah was already home and consuming the contents of the fridge at the kitchen table. “Hey, sis.” He took a moment to breathe in between bites of his vanilla ice cream slathered in peanut butter. I couldn’t keep enough of that stuff stocked. How he stayed so skinny, I would never know.

  “How was school?”

  “Same as every day.”

  “Where’s your progress report?”

  He rolled his eyes, reached down, pulled out a piece of paper from his backpack, and handed it to me.

  I took the paper and glanced over it. Four A’s and one B. I looked up and smiled at him. “I’m proud of you.”

  He shrugged off the compliment.

  I walked over and ruffled his brown straight-as-could-be hair. “Really, I am. Momma and Daddy would have been, too.”

  He went back to eating. He wasn’t into sappy conversations. “Some of my friends are meeting at Frankie’s for pizza. Can I go?”

  I thought back to Momma’s advice right before she passed away. She had said, “If you can, try and say yes to him.” I sighed and nodded. “I’ll drop you off on my way to work. Can someone bring you home? I would prefer a parent, not a friend. You need to be home by eleven and text me when you get home.”

  “Okay, Mom, any other rules?”

  “Your sarcasm is duly noted and no. How much money do you need?”

  “I still have money from mowing lawns all summer. Don’t worry about it.”

  If I’d had time to cry, I might have. “You know, you’re not so bad for a little brother.”

  He showed me a rare half-smile and went back to inhaling his ice cream. I guess it would be a protein shake for one for my dinner. But first, our lovable mutt, Toby, needed some attention. He nudged my leg with his snout. Today he was looking more like a German shepherd. He had some lab in him, too, and who knew what else. Maybe I didn’t pay a thousand dollars for him like some Englishman I wished I had never met, but Toby was the best dog ever and just what Noah needed after our momma died eighteen months ago.

  I knelt down and rubbed Toby’s head until his tail almost wagged off. I closed my eyes and wished I’d never met Charles Beckett. Who was I going to fantasize about now? I knew it wasn’t a good idea to meet him. If only the most terrible thing about him was his teeth or breath. At least those could be fixed, but personality was rarely fixable. He could take his arrogant attitude and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.

  ~*~

  “Guess who I talked to this morning?” Jillian’s grey eyes were full of mischief during our weekly lunch date at Pablo’s.

  I shoved my fork into my taco salad. “Who?”

  “Christopher McKay.” Her eyes were dancing with excitement.

  “Who is Christopher McKay?”

  “He’s your guy’s best friend, and my patient.”

  I shook my head. “I’m confused.”

  “You know, the bloody jerk.”

  “Ugh. I’m trying to forget about him.” It had been two weeks, and unfortunately his beautiful face kept popping up in my thoughts. I saw him a couple of days ago walking Sasha. He saw me, too, and instead of looking away like he was supposed to, he stared at me while I was stopped at the stop sign that connected our neighborhoods. I was alarmed because it almost looked like he was going to approach my truck. I sped off as soon as I could.

  She laughed. “Well, apparently, you made an impression on him.”

  “Yeah, a bad one.”

  “Christopher did mention that your interview was more like a sparring contest, but regardless, he can’t quit talking about you. Says you are the most infuriating woman he has ever met.”

  “Great.”

  She laughed harder. “But he has some remorse over how it all went down. He said he came off as an arse.”

  “What’s an arse?”

  She pointed to her butt with a big smile.

  “That describes him perfectly.”

  “Christopher said he’s normally the nicest guy you would ever meet, but he was having a bad day and being late is his pet peeve.”

  “I said I was sorry. You know I’m usually a punctual person. But it doesn’t matter. I’ll have to find a new unattainable object for my affection.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure. Get this, he goes by Beck! It’s perfect, Beck and Call.” She hadn’t sounded this excited since I told her that Betty Crocker brought back rainbow chip frosting.

  I reached across the table and took her hand. “Believe me, Beck, or whatever his name is, is the last man that will ever have the privilege of breaking up with me. His name alone takes him out of the running. Besides, he’s just like Phil, who makes too much money and thinks way too highly of his pretty face. Men like that don’t want a woman like me, one that comes with a fifteen-year-old boy and a sob story. They want Harvard graduates that they can take to uptight corporate parties, and someone to play tennis with at their country clubs. They don’t want women that wear leopard print shoes and play in bars. I mean heck, I don’t even want to date the guys I meet at Bangers. Sure, maybe at first it’s a turn on for them and they find it sexy, but the next thing you know, they’re hiding you from their friends, asking you when your brother is going to move out of the house, and suggesting more ‘appropriate’ lines of work.”

  She squeezed my hand and grinned. “Do you feel better now, getting that out of your system?”

  I sat up straighter and blew out a large breath. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  She laughed. “Phil was an idiot. You can do so much better than him.”

  “Believe me, Mr. Englishman is just like him, except his distaste for me was apparent from the beginning.”

  She shook her gorgeous head at me. She had that Cover Girl look going for her, with golden hair that had the right amount of wave in it. It behaved itself, unlike mine, which had a mind of its own. And she had delicate features, a respectable career, and a doctorate degree. If I didn’t love her, I might have hated her. “He wants the opportunity to apologize.”

  I scoffed. “Sure he does. He has my contact info, so he could have if he wanted to.”

  “I think he would like to do it in person.”

  “No way. If I never see him again, it will be too soon.”

  Chapter Three

  Too soon happened. Really? Why? Was all I could ask myself.
I came home Monday from a long day at the gym and grocery shopping to find a visitor in our backyard—a beautiful Siberian husky that looked a lot like Sasha. I looked out the kitchen window over our sink while I was putting away some new cleaning products, and there Toby and his new friend were, frolicking in our backyard.

  “Noah! Noah!”

  He came meandering in a minute later with his headphones glued to his ears.

  I pointed outside. “Do you know whose dog that is and how long it has been in our yard?”

  He peered out the window and shrugged his shoulders. “I let Toby out about twenty minutes ago and I didn’t see any other dog. Can we keep it?”

  “No.” We could barely afford the one we had. “Was the gate open?”

  He shook his head no. “It wouldn’t be that hard for a dog to jump over our fence.”

  That was true, it was one of those four-foot decorative kind. Toby had never tried, thank goodness.

  I walked back through the sliding glass door to what used to be an oasis. My daddy had owned a nursery and landscaping business. We used to have a pristine yard. Now all it got was mowed and weeded. I prayed with all that I had that this dog wasn’t Sasha, but the man upstairs seemed to like to toy with me, so I didn’t have high hopes. The two looked so happy and carefree chasing after one another in the cool November weather. I’m sure both hairy dogs appreciated the lower temperatures.

  “Toby,” I called.

  He stopped and looked up at me, but went right back to chasing his friend around like a lovesick puppy. I should have known then something was off, but I didn’t know dogs very well.

  With great hesitation, I said, “Sasha.”

  She was more obedient than my dog. She ran right over to me.

  I knelt down and she greeted me with a kiss. I rubbed her head and checked her tag. Sure enough, it was Sasha. Toby joined us, too, but couldn’t have cared less about me. He was playfully nudging Sasha until she gave in and they were off. They took turns pinning each other and tugging on Toby’s rope. It was kind of cute. And sadly, I was jealous, my dog had more of a love life than me. It all needed to come to an end, though. I did not look forward to taking Sasha home. If I could have, I would have left her on his front porch with a note, but I was more responsible than that. I wondered, though, why was she running around off her leash? Anytime I had seen them out, she was properly harnessed. And despite his failings as a person, you could tell he had great affection for his pooch.

  I put on my I-have-to-deal-with-life panties, and grabbed Toby’s leash. I decided to walk Sasha home. I hoped her owner was home. I tore the lovebirds away and had Noah take Toby inside. He literally whined when we separated them. If only human love was so quick and easy. I zipped up my jacket and made my way in the dusk of evening to the home of the most beautiful man that I ever hated. Not saying I wouldn’t let him kiss me, though, if he pushed me up against my kitchen wall. I would still loathe him, of course, but I had a feeling it would be amazing.

  Quit thinking like that, Call.

  Sasha kept wanting to turn around, back toward my house. I couldn’t blame her. We were much nicer people. That thought didn’t help the uneasiness I felt as we got closer to her owner’s home. Despite wanting to make out with him, I honestly never wanted to see him again. He was an arrogant prat. I had learned that word from watching the BBC. Why did their accents have to be so dang attractive? No matter, ugly insides could never make up for beautiful exteriors, even his perfect one.

  My anxiety all came to a head when, a block from his home, I ran into him. He looked panicked and then relieved when he noticed Sasha. She began to run toward her owner. Not wanting to let her get lost again, I held on to her leash and ran with her.

  He knelt down and reached for Sasha. She greeted him by licking his face. Again, jealous. I really needed to stop thinking about him.

  He looked up at me. And instead of the contempt I expected to see, there was softness. That made my insides squirm, and not in the bad way.

  “I don’t know what happened, but I found her in my backyard when I got home from work. She was playing with my dog. I guess she jumped over our fence.”

  He stood up and took the leash from me. The annoyance I had seen the last time we met returned to his eyes. “I appreciate you returning her. Looks like I’m in need of a new dog-sitter.”

  “I hear Vanderbilt is having a job fair for its graduates; you could try there.” Vanderbilt was an expensive private school nearby.

  He smiled. “You are cheeky, aren’t you?”

  I was taken aback. His smile—it was lethal. I had to remind myself to breathe. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

  “I suppose I’ve earned it. I do apologize for our last meeting.”

  I waved it off. “I suppose I got carried away, too. Anyway, have a nice evening.” I turned to walk way.

  “Wait. Your leash.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I sounded nervous, probably because I was.

  He unhooked it from Sasha’s collar and handed it to me. Our hands made contact and I swear to you, it was like how they described it in romance novels right down to the goosebumps and over-active heart. I had read my fair share of them while watching Momma in the hospital. Sometimes I wondered if that was all the romance I would ever have. I knew it would never be with guys like the one in front of me, smiling with his penetrating green eyes.

  Charles or Beck or whatever his name was didn’t quite let go of the leash. It kept our hands dangerously close, and my pulse racing.

  “Are you still looking for employment?”

  Dang that sounded sexy. I shook my head no. I could never work for him.

  He let go of the leash. “Too bad.”

  “I’m still a degree or two short.” Why did I have to be sarcastic? I had a disease, or was it a defense mechanism?

  He arched his eyebrow in perfect, beautiful Englishman fashion. “Touché, love.”

  I wanted to melt right there. I had always wanted a man to call me love. I bit my lip, waved, and tried to turn to run back to my house. I did not want to like this man. I had to keep reminding myself he was an arse or whatever Jillian had said. “Goodnight.” There was too much breathy-kiss-me-now-tone when that came out.

  His gaze wasn’t letting me go.

  Turn around, Call. Turn around and run.

  “Let me buy you a drink.” He looked down at Sasha. “As a way to say thank you.”

  Reality hit me. This man was not remotely interested in me. I shook my head. “I don’t drink.”

  He tilted his head and narrowed those eyes of his. “Didn’t your resume indicate that you were a bartender?”

  “It did. I am. But alcohol isn’t good for your vocal chords.”

  He shook his head, still confused.

  I wasn’t going to explain. I waved. “Goodbye.” I jogged away. I had so much adrenaline pumping through me, I felt like I could have run a marathon. All the way home I had to tell myself that men like him didn’t fall for women like me. Maybe if I had platinum records and a fancy home, but those were old dreams. My new dream was saving enough to buy Noah that new gaming system he wanted for Christmas and to make it through the next few years without losing my mind, or my shirt.

  Chapter Four

  “Why did you say no to him?”

  “Who are you talking about?”

  “My patient told me that Beck asked you out for a drink and you said no. He was shocked. Christopher’s never known a woman except his wife to turn Beck down.”

  It sounded like there was a story there. “He wasn’t asking me out, Jilly. It was a thanks-for-finding-my-dog-I-wished-I-would-have-hired-you drink.”

  “Then why did he mention it to his friend?”

  “Maybe he had nothing better to talk about.”

  Her laughter rang through the phone. “I don’t think so, my gorgeous friend.”

  “Believe me, he’s not interested.”

  “Well, don’t get mad, but I told Christopher about
you to try and smooth it over. You know, so it didn’t discourage him from trying again.”

  I was too tired for this conversation. I sank further into the couch in the breakroom at Bangers. I was taking ten. “What do you mean you told him about me?”

  She paused. “You know, your story.”

  “That is . . .?”

  “How wonderful you are for raising your kid brother and how you gave up a recording contract to take care of your sick mother until her dying day. That you work two jobs, and you don’t have time for yourself because you’re always taking care of others.”

  “Jillian Jones, what possessed you to do that? That makes me sound . . . well . . . like I want sympathy.”

  “Hello. It makes you sound incredible. Christopher was certainly impressed.”

  I threw my head back against the couch. “Great. Now if I ever see him again, he’s going to feel sorry for me. Or think to himself, ‘if only she would have gone to school, she wouldn’t have to work two or three jobs.’”

  “Maybe you’re wrong about him. And not everyone takes the college route.”

  “No, there are people like me that bank on a career in music. That was real smart.”

  “Call, you have one of the most amazing voices I’ve heard, and when you play the piano, it gives me chills. Put the two together and your talent is second to none.”

  “Except to Danny’s.”

  “Even Danny conceded you’re a better musician than him.”

  “I don’t regret taking care of Momma, but sometimes I wonder . . .”

  “I know, honey. And yes, you could have made the big time. You probably still could.”

  “I can’t do that to Noah. And my flame burned out a long time ago. No manager or agent wants to touch me now, after I turned my back on that contract.”

  “You’re my hero. I mean that.”

  “Thanks, girl. Are we still on for Thanksgiving?”