Chapter Nine

Ada

I can’t believe he just snapped at me like that. Had I realized he was that sensitive about his work, maybe I would have taken a different approach. I should have realized he was going to take offense I just talked bad about his baby. What was I thinking? I feel like it would be the equivalent of someone talking about my students or my teaching curriculum.

I shove bread in my mouth and picture it going straight to my hips. If I’m going to let him see me naked I should probably eat kale and more kale only. That’s if he would even want to see me naked after my insane breakdown. And maybe I should just keep it business. It seems that I am swaying toward singing with him. What do they always say? Don’t mix business with pleasure.

The thought of him seeing more of me later excites and terrifies me, though. Can I really keep him away? My cheeks heat up at the memory. I don’t think he bought that I’m not a virgin. The confidence I pretended to have wasn’t convincing at all.

Now he’s been in the bathroom awhile and I wonder just how angry he is at me. The salads come out and despite my earlier thought about eating better, I ask for an extra ranch. I’m a stress eater, and nothing is better than healthy food drenched in unhealthy food.

He comes back to the table and sits grabbing his napkin and fluffing it before putting it in his lap. He picks up a knife and fork and starts to cut his salad. The whole thing seems so proper I can’t help but laugh.

Charlie is looking at me like I’m insane and with a good reason. “What’s so funny?”

“You, with your proper table manners. Did you go to etiquette classes?”

“I did, my mother made me go.” He says it with surprise that I hadn’t had any. Now I feel dumb for assuming he was just being pretentious.

I look down at my salad drenched in dressing and some of it has found its way onto the table. Compared to him I’m eating like an animal. I put my fork down and compose myself.

“So, I don’t really understand why you need me to sing with you. You can write your own songs and you’re a good-looking guy. That’s basically the criteria for a success story. Tell me where I come in. Why I’m needed.” I pick up my fork and try to stab a small bite so it will go in my mouth without making a scene.

“You think I’m good-looking?” He grins and my stomach flips around.

He is a very handsome man with his wicked green eyes and well maintained styled hair. Any woman would be lucky enough to be out with him, to have his mouth on theirs. To have his mouth on their body. Suddenly my body warms up and I feel an ache low in my stomach. I tell it to stop with its ridiculous urges and shove two cucumbers into my mouth.

“Stop being modest. You know that you are. I don’t attack just anyone on my couch. They have to at least be good looking for me to maul them.” I take a large bite of salad proud that my voice didn’t crack.

He laughs and winks at me while I chomp on my salad trying not to make a scene. “So, tell me. Why does Thomas think you two need me?”

“I’m not relatable because I’m rich. People will see me as someone with money, they’ll think I bought my way up the charts somehow. Thomas is having a hard time getting them to connect with me, and he thinks you will help with that. Honestly, I do too.”

“There have to be successful singers that were rich before they went into show business.” I try to think of an example and come up with nothing. “And I don’t think you are giving yourself credit. You are very likable.”

“Well, Thomas is the one who knows the business. He’s the one who is calling the shots for me. I’ve tried it on my own, for a long time now. If he says we need you, then I need you.”

He looks me in the eyes and the way he says it gets the storm raging in my stomach all worked up again.

I decide to go back to my food. I’ve been watching him spin his pasta on the fork using the spoon. I concentrate all my energy on doing that correctly. Nailed it! I exclaim in my head grinning at the fork like an idiot. I take a triumphant bite and then somehow manage to lean forward and put my elbow in my bowl of oil and vinegar.

He raises an eyebrow and I leave my elbow there. What’s the point of making a huge deal about it? I feel all the delicious little spices stuck on my arm. Slowly I raise the arm and catch the oil with my napkin. I think I’ve pulled off playing it off when the waitress appears from nowhere.

“I’ll get you some oil and vinegar your arm hasn’t been in ma’am,” she says and whisks the little bowl away.

Charlie is laughing at me. Without thinking about it I throw a meatball at him. It misses as he dodges it and lands on the lap of the woman sitting behind him. Somehow it went over her head and fell into her lap and she didn’t notice. My cheeks burn red and he’s laughing so hard now he’s crying.

I hope the woman ordered spaghetti and meatballs so she’ll think she’s the one that dropped the meatball and reserve myself to be less childlike for the rest of dinner. I am a teacher after all. What would my kids think of me acting this way? Even though I’m chastising myself I can’t stop grinning like a fool with Charlie.

When Charlie gets his laughter under control he pins me with his gaze. “So, let’s talk high school, you weren’t ever in any of the clubs and plays I was in,” he says.

“Well, you were only in everything, but I was in a play with you. You’ve just forgotten my epic performance.”

He looks puzzled and asks, “Which one. I’m sorry but I don’t remember you being in a play with me.”

“Well, it was the talk of the school.” I am acting pretty cocky and I have no clue why.

“Enlighten me, please.”

Sitting up straight I prepare to wow him with a story about my best performance ever.

“I played a bush. You literally put your foot on me when you were skipping around the stage playing Puck in Midsummers.”

He looks at me as if he’s trying to remember. “I didn’t skip.”

“That’s all you have to say. I’m hurt you don’t remember how well my strong back took your foot on it. And you did skip.”

“I thought I put my foot on a rock. It was a manly skip.”

I can’t help it as I throw a piece of bread at him this time and nearly die as it ends up hitting a man as he walks by the table. Somehow the carbohydrate gods are with me and he doesn’t feel it.

It’s easy for me to forget why we’re here when I’m having fun. We have to talk about the singing though. It is the main reason he’s back in my life.

“So, tell me, Charlie. Why music?”

“What do you mean Addy, music is everything? It’s my life. There was never a choice. It was and always will be music.”

I try to think of a way to word it that won’t offend him but will get across what I mean.

“Okay but why do you want to pursue it like this, I mean try to go big or whatever?”

“It’s the only thing I’m passionate about. It’s the only thing I want to do. I want to leave my mark on this world and not just because I inherited a company from my father.”

“Fair enough. But, I need more time to think about it.” If somehow, he does become famous because he has a female high school music teacher singing with him then it will affect my life. I’ll be famous too. It’s not something I know I can handle.

“You do? How about this. Come by the studio tomorrow. Sit with me while I teach my students. See the passion there and you’ll understand.”

He looks directly into my eyes and I can tell it means a lot to him.

“You teach?”

“Yes, I do. Come by I’ll text you the address. Actually, hand me your phone.”

I hand him my phone without hesitation. He puts his number in and then texts himself. It says hi sweet cheeks, this is my number. Here is the address.

I raise my brows at the sweet cheeks. I also realize we are making plans for the next day but I still have to get through him taking me home without losing my cool again.

The fun evening has already taken my mind off of what happened, but now the embarrassment is seeping back in.

“You want dessert?” The waitress is back and looking impatient. I shake my head and he does the same.

“Just the check please,” he tells her.

We walk out and I feel like I ate too much. I also know I have garlic breath and pray when we get in the car I can find a mint hidden in my purse.

The ride back is quiet with both of us thinking. The song he wrote sits between us like a bomb that could explode any minute. I’m not bringing it up again and hopefully, he won’t either. It won’t do any good to argue about the song before I make my decision. I need a bubble bath, I decide and then he does the unexpected and puts his hand on mine.

The hand he touches is lying on my leg so now his hand is dangerously close to touching my thigh. I picture a world where I’m the type of girl who would take his hand and slide it between my legs. An ache I’m starting to get familiar with, starts to burn there and before I know it we’re at my house.

He gets out first so I don’t have to wonder if he’ll walk me to my door. I climb out and we walk side by side up to my apartment without saying anything. We stop on my doorstep and I wonder what I should do.

He leans down and presses his lips to mine. “Goodnight Addy. I’ll see you tomorrow at five pm. Okay?”

I just nod. The chaste kiss has thrown me off. I expected him to ravage me on my doorstep. I expected to have to fight with myself to tell him to go on. This was the opposite of being ravaged. I’ve scared him now and that makes me more upset than chickening out on the sex we earlier had. What if he decides never to try again?

I stomp around my house pouring a glass of wine and drawing a bath. I’ll figure out my life in the morning. Now I just want to relax and go to bed.

I can’t sleep though so I call Lila.

“I can’t sleep. I’m all wound up.”

“So, you gave it up?” She says with a giggle.

I think about how much to tell her. I decide honestly is probably the best policy.

“I freaked out when it was getting close to that. I let him do things to me and then ran away.”

“Oh no, did you just skip the dinner altogether?”

“No, we went out. I just had to be coaxed out of the bathroom.”

“What about singing with him? Did you make a decision?”

“I am still thinking about it, but I’m crazy and leaning toward doing it. We’re seeing each other tomorrow and he’s going to try and convince me some more.”

“Is he going to try and convince you to have sex with him?”

“I don’t know he gave me a sweet kiss after our dinner and left. I might have messed up when I freaked out.”

“I told you to let me give you some sex tips. Now you’ll have female blue balls. Have you had a bath yet?”

“No, I was about to pour some wine, run a bath and feel bad for myself.”

“Do yourself a favor and scoot up underneath that running water. You need to get off or your head is just going to be a jumbled mess. Enjoy your wine, think about him, and do what I say okay.”

“Lila you’re crazy.” I hang up the phone. If I was to enjoy my bath that much I certainly wouldn’t share it with her.