Lance
He noticed her when she first arrived—the girl from earlier that day at the wedding. The singer. The one with the smile. She was wearing the same dress she had on at the aquarium, so he spotted her the moment she came in. She was walking arm in arm with a young man who was carrying a square bag and smiling broadly. Lance thought he had good reason to smile. That woman was so free and easy, she radiated kindness and confidence.
Lance was the owner of a store called All Things Fish. They were Miami's largest distributor of fish and accessories for ponds and aquariums. His father had started the business, but Lance had taken over when his dad retired. He had a brother and sister, but neither of them were interested in the family business.
Lance was extremely interested, though—not only because he enjoyed working with fish but also because he was an extremely driven businessman. He had nearly doubled the net worth of the business since he had taken over, and he was just getting started. They had recently expanded to online sales, and were quickly becoming the Zappos or Amazon of fish.
Abigail was a marine biologist and one of Lance's top traveling technicians. She worked in homes and businesses all over Miami, maintaining ponds and aquariums. She had met Ash while on a pond cleaning job, so Lance couldn't help but feel like he had a small part their connection. He liked Ash a lot and was thrilled that Abigail had found happiness.
"How long are we staying?" Layla asked, glancing into her purse.
Lance regarded his little sister with a look of frustration, and she widened her eyes at him. "Trey's asking when he should pick me up," she said.
Lance wasn't ready to go—especially now that the young lady had arrived. "We haven't even been here for an hour."
"I know, but you said we wouldn't stay long."
"We won't," Lance said, standing up. "But I'm not ready to leave yet. And if Trey's in that big of a hurry, he can come here to pick you up."
"I told him that already," she said. "He probably will if you plan on staying too much longer. Where are you going?" she added. Lance gestured to Abigail, who was standing at the edge of the dancefloor, talking to some of the guests. "I'm going to talk to Abigail."
"To tell her goodbye?" Layla yelled as he started to walk away.
"No, not to tell her goodbye. Call your boyfriend and ask him to come here if you're ready to leave."
"I will," Layla said, digging in her purse again.
Lance and his sister were sitting at a table full of people they both knew—employees of All Things Fish, so Lance didn't feel bad about walking away from the table and leaving Layla there. He headed across the way so he could congratulate the bride and talk to her.
Abigail grinned when she saw Lance walking in her direction. She thought about how funny life was. Five years ago, when she had first come to work at All Things Fish, she had the biggest crush on him. Many women did, so she wasn't alone in that. She had never told him about her feelings, and things had always remained professional between them. Back then, she would have given anything for him to read her mind and ask her out. But, my, how things can change. She had been in such a hurry for someone (especially Lance) to notice her back then, and now she had the attention of the only man in the world who she wanted it from.
She smiled at Lance as he approached.
"You look happy," Lance said, noticing her expression as he got closer.
"I am happy. So happy."
The two of them hugged.
"Thank you for being here," she said, stretching up to speak close to his ear. "And thank you for the gift. It's too much."
Lance looked around. "It's not," he said. "Just don't tell anyone else I did that."
She laughed. "I won't. But you didn't have to do it."
"I wanted to," he said. "You mentioned wanting to go to Paris for your honeymoon, and I knew right then what I was going to do."
Lance had been to Paris several times, so he knew the best places to stay. As a wedding gift, he had taken care of the hotel accommodations for Ash and Abigail's honeymoon. It was a lavish gift, but Lance was generous, and besides, Abigail was a good friend and a valuable asset to his business. It pleased him to treat them to a nice time in Paris. Ash and Abigail had no idea what it had cost him, but seven nights in one of the nicest hotels in the city couldn't come cheap, and they had thanked him a hundred times.
Lance hated to bother Abigail with an enquiry about one of the wedding guests, but he simply couldn't get the girl off of his mind. He glanced her way in preparation to point her out and found that she was looking at him. Their eyes locked, but only for a second before she turned, smiling and talking to the guy next to her. Her smile—even from that distance—caused Lance to feel a protective, possessive feeling, like he wanted to be the recipient of it instead of that guy sitting next to her.
"Do you?" Abigail asked like maybe it wasn't the first time she had said it.
"Do I what?" Lance asked, glancing at her.
She smiled. "I was asking if you recommended any other restaurants," she said. "Did you hear me say your mom had already told us about one?"
"No, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. She probably told you to eat at Les Amis."
Abigail smiled and nodded. "You okay?" she asked, noticing how distracted he was.
Again, Lance glanced at the girl in the pink top. He nudged his chin in that direction. "The girl in pink over there. The singer. Is she a friend of yours, or Ash's?"
Abigail squinted into the crowd, trying her hardest to figure out who in the world he was talking about. She had no idea who he meant when he said there was a singer. She thought of Ash's fellow orchestra musicians as she looked into the crowd, but couldn't come up with anything.
"The one balancing a spoon on her nose," Lance said. "Wait, it fell off. Now the guy next to her is doing it."
Abigail laughed when she caught sight of Matt with a spoon on his nose. She could see, even from across the room, that he was intensely cross-eyed with the effort to keep it there. That young man was good for the soul.
"Oh my gosh, that's Matt," she said, giggling. "That's my friend, Sidney, and her student, Matt. He's awesome."
"What kind of student?" Lance asked. His tone was slightly agitated, and Abigail glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows.
"High school," she said. "She's a high school teacher."
"She's not… they're not…"
"Oh, my gosh, Lance, of course not."
Abigail pushed at his shoulder. "What in the world would make you say that?"
"I don't know. I can't really see them that well from here. To me, it just looks like they're having a grand old time—like they're laughing and chatting it up."
"They are!" Abigail said. "Because she's funny and amazing. She teaches special ed in the public school system. Matt is one of her students. He's one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. Sidney was at the aquarium earlier today."
"I know. I met her. Sort of. I didn't get her name. I just heard her sing, and then it was too late to—"
"Sing? Sidney?" Abigail's expression was genuinely perplexed. "You said you were looking for a singer a minute ago, but I thought I heard you wrong. Are you sure you were at the same wedding I was? No one sang."
"She did. Before the wedding started. She sang Barracuda by Heart. I've been thinking about it all afternoon. I think we could rewrite it a little bit and make a commercial for the shop. Like a hairspray rock production with Barracudas in the background. It would be hilarious. Does she have a band?"
Abigail looked completely dumbfounded. "Are you talking about the girl in the pink shirt with her hair parted over to the side?"
Lance checked to make sure. "Yes."
"She's a teacher, Lance."
"So?"
"So, no, she doesn’t have a band. She doesn't even sing—not that I've heard, anyway."
Lance gazed across the room. He knew what he heard. First of all, he had thought it was so funny and cool that she had the guts to sing classic rock to Mandy and Tim Foster. And second, those notes were not easy to hit. He had heard them with his own ears, and he wasn't mistaken—she sounded good.
He continued to watch Sidney cut up with Matt and the others at their table. Her joy was infectious, and it was all he could do to keep himself from walking over there.
"Is she single?" he asked.
He glanced at Abigail, and she smiled as her eyes widened. "Do you like her?" she asked. She had literally never seen Lance with a woman or heard of him dating anyone. She was sure he had dated over the years, but he was so focused on the store, that he never even had personal conversations with her or any of the other employees. He had certainly never brought a love interest to the shop.
"Is she single?" he asked again instead of answering her question.
"She is," Abigail said. "And she's wonderful. She's beautiful and funny. She walks on the beach a lot, and she collects shells and makes art out of them—picture frames and stuff. I don't know anything about her singing. I think you're tripping on that, but she's awesome for other reasons."
Lance hugged Abigail again, this time in a gesture of goodbye. There were people standing around, waiting for their chance to congratulate the bride. "Thank you," he said.
"Thank you," Abigail returned. "Seriously. We're so excited about the trip."
"You deserve it," Lance said with a smile. "Y'all have fun."
Lance wanted to walk straight over to Sidney's table, but instead, he went to talk to his sister.
"What'd you decide?" he asked Layla when he got close enough for her to hear him over the music.
"Trey's coming," she said. "He'll be here in fifteen or twenty minutes."
"Perfect," Lance said, holding his hand out and flexing his fingers as if expecting Layla to go somewhere with him.
She scowled. "Perfect for what?"
"I need you to dance with someone."
"What? No. My boyfriend's on his way up here."
"It's not like that," Lance said. "Please just come with me."
Without further argument, Layla stood. She fell into stride next to her brother as they made their way to the other side of the room.
"I'm trying to dance with this woman over here, and she's got one of her students with her. I want you to dance with him so I can dance with her. His name is Matt. He's the one in the bowtie, straight ahead."
"What if he doesn't want to dance with me?" Layla said.
Lance gave his sister in dubious glance. Layla was gorgeous. Any man in the room would dance with her if she was willing.
"Seriously," she said. "I'm not used to just walking up to guys and asking them to dance."
"I'll handle it," Lance said. "All I need you to do is be willing to dance with him once I set it up."
"Okay," she said. "But you owe me for this."
"Anything," he said.
Lance didn't even look at his sister as they spoke. His eyes were trained on Sidney. His heart quickened as they drew closer. He experienced a curious kind of longing as he regarded her. She had a certain type of magnetism, a kind of positive energy that radiated off of her. Her smile was contagious, and he grinned just looking at her. He couldn’t wait to get her on the dancefloor—to have her attention—to hold her in his arms.
She glanced his way and their eyes met. She had dark hair and eyes. She didn’t have on a lot of makeup, and she was naturally beautiful without it.
Lance thought she would look away like she did the other times, but she didn’t. She held his gaze. He grinned at her for it. Her wavy hair had fallen over one side of her face, and she ran her hand through it, still looking at him. He didn't know what he would say when he came up to her. Usually, he just improvised conversations—didn't even think about what he would say to someone before he walked up to them—but this girl had him feeling different, nervous.