Chapter Eleven
Maddie sat at a corner table in Ground Level, the low-calorie smoothie bar-slash-coffee shop a few blocks from the laundromat, watching Tyson at the counter as he placed their orders. She’d been a nervous wreck this morning, anxiety bringing on heartburn that could have scorched half the state. But a quart of Pepto and one encouraging text from Cole later and she’d not only pulled herself together, but managed to assemble a semi decent-looking outfit to boot. Now if only she could be as smooth the next hour as she’d practiced being in her mind.
Smooth like she was with Cole. Darn it, why did he make it so easy to just be herself?
Tyson glanced over, saw her watching him, and smiled. The resulting dimples softened his muscular physique, making him look far less intimidating than usual. She looked away with a sigh, still not quite believing a guy like that was here with her. When I walk into the gala with Tyson in tow, Miles’s jaw is gonna hit the floor.
Now that thought spawned a broad smile. Maybe she could have Cole there to videotape it, so she wouldn’t miss a second of that reaction. Without him, after all, she’d not be anywhere near this close to making that moment happen. Hopefully the hug she’d sprung on him Sunday hadn’t freaked him out. She still didn’t know what had moved her to do it—heavens knew she wasn’t a hugger. But that’s what friends did to show their appreciation sometimes, wasn’t it? An innocent hug?
Though, if she’d known he would smell so good—all sawdust and earthy cologne—she might have opted for a pat on the back.
And why on earth was she sitting here, on a date with Tyson, thinking about Cole?
“Did you see a new store is going in where that print shop used to be?”
Maddie honed in to the conversation between two college-aged girls a table over, relieved for the distraction. Clearly, she was in over-thinking mode again. She cast a subtle look over one shoulder to spy a tall brunette sitting across from a petite blonde.
“Yeah, but did you hear who’s running it?” asked the blonde.
“No, who?”
“Remember the eye candy who walked up to open mic night at the Java Stop a few weeks back?” asked the blonde.
“Stone? Flynt? Dang it, what was his name?”
Cole, you twits.
“Cole,” said blondie.
“Cole,” the brunette echoed in a dreamy voice. “Cute and a bad boy. Makes me want to take up guitar just to get some one-on-one time with him in the back room.”
Maddie gripped the edge of the table to keep from hauling off and hitting anyone. Cole was more than eye candy and definitely no playboy. At least, not that she knew of. Though, the more she thought about it, how much did she know about him?
“Wait, bad boy?” blondie asked.
“Yeah, rumor has it Sheridan almost didn’t give him the lease”—the brunette lowered her voice as footsteps sounded nearby—“because somebody did time down in Texas. Grandpa dearest had to step in and vouch for him.”
Did time? Cole? Didn’t the people around here have anything better to do than sit around making stuff like that up?
Maddie spun in her seat, retort locked and loaded, and found Tyson towering over her, a smoothie in each hand. The smile he wore faded to a look of concern.
“If you wanted something else I can go back up and…”
“No! No, I’m sure whatever you ordered for me will be awesome. Just…there was a fly, is all,” she lied, swatted at the imaginary pest, and offered the best smile she could muster. “I’m kinda neurotic when it comes to bugs near food.”
He sat the drinks down with a chuckle and maneuvered into the seat across from her. Maddie breathed a sigh of relief. Today’s date had to go well if she was going to be able to pop the question about the gala and leave him enough time to rent a tux. Better get her head in the game and stop thinking about Cole. Still, what those silly college girls had said about him bothered her.
He didn’t really have a rap sheet…did he?
She tried to picture him committing a jail sentence-worthy crime and couldn’t. He seemed like such an honest, hardworking guy. But maybe he wasn’t always like that, whispered a small voice in the back of her mind. What if he’d been a drunk? Or violent?
No, she couldn’t imagine it. He was anti-wine, and had never lashed out at her during one of her kitchen rants. But what about theft? Her kitchen tools were walking off with more frequency than ever before. Could it be she had a klepto in her midst?
“Okay, so I ordered me the number six,” said Tyson. “Need to load up on protein and carbs before my cycling class this afternoon. For you I got the number two—it’s mostly fruit, a bit on the sweeter side. If you don’t like it, though, you’re welcome to order something else. A coffee, even, if you’d prefer.”
She met his gaze and felt a zing of guilt. He was being sweet and attentive to her needs, and here she sat, thinking about another guy. There was nothing she could do about Cole and the rumors she’d overheard right now. Probably, they were just stories made up by a jaded co-ed he’d not paid enough attention to after his performance at that Java place. So Maddie pushed her worries, and the unsettling feeling of cute, younger women hitting on her friend, aside to mull over later. Right now, Tyson was who she should be focusing on.
And locking in that date to the gala.
“Nah, I’m sure I’ll love it.” She drew the drink close and flashed him a coy smile. “So, tell me more about these smoothies…”
…
Cole watched his second student step out the shop’s door, Sienna’s hips swinging in a “keep watching, baby” kind of way, and breathed a sigh of relief. Okay, so maybe being a private tutor hadn’t been as easy as he’d expected it to be. Wilson had been fine, but Sienna…oh, boy. She’d been far more interested in learning about Cole than the guitar in her hands, which totally confused him. Sienna had been so excited about the prospect of taking lessons the last time they’d talked, and then when they spoke on the phone. How was he to know she had ulterior motives?
Maybe it’d be a good idea to have the lesson room walls made of plexiglass, he thought, looking at the shop through wiser eyes. To keep everything on the up-and-up. And cameras in each, just to be safe.
He ran a hand through his hair. Yeah, he had a lot to learn about being a business owner, but one distracted lesson wasn’t about to shake him loose from his dreams. There would be other students, other musicians looking for repairs or purchases. And as business grew, so would his offerings. For now, though, lessons and repairs would have to be his mainstay.
With a sigh, he turned to gather his cell and jacket. It was three o’clock—time to get cleaned up for his shift at the Checkerberry. Cole grinned. He could practically hear Maddie going off about Sienna’s behavior already. Probably, she would tell him to drop the girl and move on, to avoid trouble.
The bell hanging over the shop’s front door jingled and he cringed. Please don’t let it be Sienna back again…
“Forgot something?” he asked, turning toward the door. But it wasn’t Sienna who’d entered the building, it was Robert Sheridan. And he looked far less thrilled to see Cole than Sienna had. “Mr. Sheridan. Sorry, I thought you were a student of mine.”
“I’ve no intention of taking music lessons from you, Mr. Granville.”
Cole nodded, rather relieved to hear that confession. If he had to be in a small space with this much air of superiority for long he might well choke. Sheridan stepped farther into the shop, shrewd eyes taking in the room before him.
“I see. Was there something else you needed?” said Cole. “I assume you have a reason for your visit today.”
“How has business been?” Mr. Sheridan asked, sidestepping his question as he perused the contents of a display case filled with string and pick samples.
“I won’t technically open until the end of the month, sir. Lots of remodeling left to do. But I’ve started with private lessons ahead of time to bring revenue in.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Mr. Sheridan nodded, his gaze passing over a specialty pick autographed by Eddie Van Halen. Clearly, he wasn’t here to shop. Cole bit back a suggestion for the man to hurry up and leave already.
“You’ll have my rent payment on time, sir, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
At that, the man did look up, his gaze locking with Cole’s. “Good. Because if you’re so much as an hour late, Granville, I’m revoking your lease. You see, the mayor’s son apparently had his eye on this storefront as well. Unfortunately for him, you acted on it first. Unless, of course, you’d like to change your mind.”
“No, sir, I wouldn’t.”
“A shame. Gavin would do a nice job with this place. Keep the riffraff out, unlike the kind you’ll be bringing in.”
Cole felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. “Is that so?”
“I saw your background report, son. I know who you really are.”
Cole could see in the man’s eyes it was no use arguing with him—his mind was already made up. Why try to set the record straight with someone who obviously wouldn’t listen? Instead he stood up taller and leaned slightly forward.
“Let’s just say that what really happened and what that report you saw listed don’t exactly match. And as it didn’t prevent me from being approved for this lease, I’m going to again ask why you’re here.”
Sheridan’s gaze narrowed. “It’s a good thing your grandfather and I go a long way back, son.”
“Yes,” said a familiar voice from behind Cole. “It is.”
He spun to find his grandfather there, a quiet fury brewing in his eyes.
“I came to pick you up,” Old Tom said, answering his question yet unasked. “Knew you had a second job to get to.”
“Yes, I do.”
Mr. Sheridan spoke up. “You should have told me, Tom—”
His grandfather continued, ignoring Sheridan’s comment. “Why don’t you show Robert out and lock up, Cole. He’s stayed beyond his welcome. I’ll be in the truck waiting.”
Cole nodded and stepped forward to usher Sheridan to the door.
“He won’t always be here to bail you out, you know,” the man said in a low voice as they approached the door. “I’ll be watching you closely, son, waiting for you to mess up. And when you do, you’ll regret ever coming to Mount Pleasant.”
Cole pulled the front door open, gripping the door’s handle so hard it hurt. Better that than punch the arrogant jerk in the face. “Thanks for stopping by Mr. Sheridan. Come again when you’d like to learn more about guitars.”
Robert Sheridan strode out the door with a harrumph. Cole watched him go, glad to be rid of the man, and flipped the door’s lock into place. Would it be like this the entire term of his lease, he wondered, or would the guy learn to lighten up?
Probably the first, not the latter. Though, if today’s visit was meant to scare off Cole from his commitment, Sheridan had royally screwed up. Because rather than scare him, Cole was more determined than ever to make his business grow. With a shake of his head he grabbed his things and headed out the back door, locking it behind him. True to his word, his grandfather sat in the delivery truck’s passenger seat.
“Thanks for the lift, Grandpa. But I think I could have managed the two block walk home.”
“Oh, I’m sure you could have. Though, from the sound of it, my timing couldn’t have been better.”
Cole turned over the ignition with a frown. “That guy’s a real piece of work.”
“Robert’s heart isn’t completely black. Mostly, maybe.”
“Great.” Cole chuckled. “Well, thanks for the heads-up.”
“Anytime. Speaking of which, that’s why I came by—to give you a heads-up.”
He shifted into reverse and paused. “Oh? About what?”
“A few of my regulars stopped into the store today, asking if the rumors about you were true. Seems someone at Sheridan’s office took it upon themselves to share what they saw in your background check.”
“Dammit.” Resentment washed over Cole anew. All these months he’d been so careful to keep his past buried, out of sight. He knew he shouldn’t have listened to his grandfather. This co-signed lease had been a bad idea from the start. But how do you say no to the one person in this world who’s looked out for you from day one?
Though, now he had a second person he’d like to think was looking out for him: Maddie. But what would she think when the rumors reached her ears? Would she be like Sheridan and the others, assuming the worst about him, or would she give him a chance to clear the air? The thought stung, more than it should.
Face it, you’re falling for her.
He barked a soft, humorless laugh. A fine mess he’d gotten himself into. Then again, if his rap sheet scared her off like it had a habit of doing for everyone else, it’d soon be a nonissue.
But she wouldn’t turn her back on him that easily, would she?
Only time would tell. In the meantime, he’d have to add “damage control” to his daily list of responsibilities.
Tom placed a gentle hand upon Cole’s shoulder. “You can’t live your life hiding from your past, son. You’ve got to own it and move on.”
“Yeah, well, unfortunately, Grandpa? Sometimes that moving on part isn’t completely up to just me.”
“Give the town a chance, son.”
“I’m trying, Grandpa,” he said, looking out the windshield at the backside of his new shop. “Hope it’ll give me one, too.”