Page 95 of Without You

“You lost me at get dressed.”

She rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t like that. I was giving him a massage.”

“You lost me again.”

“Sorry. I’m not explaining this well. The person who helped me change my flat tire was actually Chase Elijah Stanton, country music star, same guy who you hung out with the other night and you customized his truck for an upcoming video shoot. Elijah, or Chase, I guess, somehow got an appointment with me for a massage today. I was completely booked so I’m still not sure how he managed, but my guess is he paid some mega bucks to bump someone out of their appointment spot. Anyway, he showed up today for a massage, and by the end of it, he had offered me a job as his and his band’s personal massage therapist.”

“This is a lot of information to digest.”

“I know. Trust me, I know.”

“So he wants you to… what… hold appointments for them or go to Nashville a couple times a month?”

“Not exactly.” She winces. “He wants me to travel with the band.”

“Travel with the band,” I repeat, my stomach tightening in knots.

“Yeah.”

“As in, you’d be gone?”

She visibly swallows and nods.

I want to immediately demand she turn down his offer but that’s not fair to her. I don’t make decisions for her.

Clearing my throat, I sit up straighter in my seat. “Which way you leaning?”

She looks nervous when she says, “I don’t know. The money is incredible.”

I get that. I also wouldn’t blame her if that helped make her decision. I just hope that I’m also a factor in that decision. Even though what we have is new, I see it lasting. Possibly, likely, hopefully, forever. But maybe she’s not thinking the same way. Or maybe having this type of job would be life changing for her in a way that would bring her back to me, but gives her an experience that’s, her words, once-in-a-lifetime.

My silence is telling. “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

Shaking my head, I reach over and hold her hand. “I’d just like to hear more about Chase’s offer, is all, and maybe also how it came about.”

“After he fixed my tire, we sat in the café and had breakfast, like I told you. I mentioned to him that I was a massage therapist and I guess he must have called around Benton, found where I worked, and made an appointment. He said he wanted to test it out.”

“He wanted to see if you were good at your job.”

“Yes.”

“Then what?”

“Well…” She hesitates and I can see she doesn’t necessarily want to tell me the rest of the story. “It was a little awkward because, what I didn’t tell you was that after he changed my tire he kind of asked me out.”

“What?” I ask lowly, not wanting to explode. Though, I can’t blame him, I still hate him a little right now. “Did he know you have a boyfriend?”

“Not until I turned him down and told him I was seeing someone. I never mentioned your name because at the time I wasn’t aware that he was who he was, you know?”

Okay. That’s good.

“So he asked you out, you turned him down, and then he figured out where you worked, showed up for a massage and offered you a job?” I ask, skeptically.

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds even creepier than I was first imagining.”

That puts me on alert. “Creepy? Did he make you feel uncomfortable?”

“At first, yeah.” She stands up, slowly extracting her hand from mine. “But he explained everything and I could see he was being truthful and not as weird as he was coming off. Apparently he’s really shy.”