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“I’ll see you in an hour.” She’d buy Gemma a coffee after her first class when she had a break. Maybe this was the main reason she’d taken the job. So she could spend time with her best friend, the way they used to. Gemma felt like the only family she had anymore.
Angry dads aside, she already knew she’d made the right decision in coming here. And if she saw him again, she’d apologize too.
But she probably wouldn’t see him again.
By Friday, Cassie felt exhausted. She wasn’t sure if it was from the mental effort of trying to learn a hundred unfamiliar names or the physical effort of unpacking all the boxes in her house, but either way she was bone tired as she waved off the last children in her class.
She quickly showered in the staff washrooms and pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, looping her hair into a messy bun before running a slick of gloss over her lips.
By the time she reached the reception area, Gemma had locked the doors. “Ready?” she asked.
She’d invited Cassie to join her and her kids for dinner at the diner. An invitation Cassie had gratefully accepted. Gemma and her children dine there every Friday for dinner – Riley worked late on Friday nights so it’s their little treat for the weekend.
The diner was in the center of Hartson’s Creek, flanking the grassy town square where a bandstand stood in the center. Most of the buildings in the center were commercial ones. There was a hair salon – Gemma told her which stylist was the best – along with a realtor, a bank, and a bar. On the other side of the square was a white building with a spire – the First Baptist Church.
Gemma’s kids were running ahead of them on the sidewalk. Lucy’s the oldest, at seven, and behind her was Andrew, who was five. The kids stopped and waited for them when they arrived at the diner. Gemma reached over their heads and pushed the door open.
The sound of voices and laughter – and was that a real jukebox? – hit them as soon as they stepped inside, behind Lucy and Andrew who were already running to the back. “Mom, somebody’s in our booth,” Lucy complained.
“Honey, it’s not ours,” Gemma told her. “The seats are first come first serve, remember? There’s a table over there. Go grab it.”
“But it’s not a booth.”
Gemma gave her daughter the kind of look that Cassie knew all too well. She used it herself sometimes, when her students were shouting and not listening and she had to clap her hands to be heard.
“Okay.” Lucy nodded, looking resigned.
“We’re leaving actually, if you want ours,” a woman said. She was about Cassie’s age, with long dark hair and striking eyes. It was a face that drew a second glance. She slithered across the cracked leather bench seat of the booth, swinging her denim-clad legs to the front to stand.
“Oh, hey Grace,” Gemma said, smiling at the woman. “That’s so kind of you.”
“Not a problem.” Grace was the perfect name for her. She had the kind of innate glamor that you didn’t often see in women their age. “I’m just waiting for Pres. Here they are…”
Cassie felt a prickle on the back of her neck as she slowly turned around. Delilah was running out of a door at the back that led to the bathrooms, followed a few feet behind by her father.
Presley Hartson. The man she’d insulted a few days ago.
It was weird how quickly their eyes connected. The impact of his stare made her skin tingle.
She’d thought he was attractive when she’d seen him at the dance school. But that was nothing compared to now. There was no dust, no evidence of a day working hard with his hands. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt, his hair a little messed up as though he’d been running his hands through it. He had a day’s worth of beard growth, too.
It made him look dark and dangerous.
“Miss Cassie,” Delilah called out, grinning at her. “What are you doing here?”
Before Cassie could respond, Delilah threw herself against Cassie, her arms circling her waist. It was impossible not to hug her back. She was so full of life and excitement, it made Cassie’s heart feel warm.
“I’m just getting some dinner,” Cassie told her, smiling at the little girl. “Have you eaten?”
“Yep. I had nuggets. My favorite.”
“They were my favorite when I was your age, too,” Cassie told her.
“They were?” Delilah’s face lit up like Cassie had just told her she’d won a million dollars. “Oh wow.” She turned to look at her dad, who’d caught up with them. “Daddy, did you know that Miss Cassie likes nuggets, too?”
Cassie didn’t bother to correct her. Anyway, she kind of did still like them. They were comfort food, and she was all for that.
Presley’s gaze landed on her again. This time it was cool. Appraising. She parted her lips to take in a breath.
