Page 16 of Class Act

“I didn’t know I had it in me to be obsessed with someone,” I stated. “I’ve dated, but I didn’t think much about them when we weren’t together.”

Aryn nodded. “Not every guy is the right fit.”

I released her hands and held up mine up, palms out. “Hey, I’m not saying Ford is the right fit.”

“Your heart thinks otherwise.”

“My heart can keep its thoughts to itself.” I nodded once.

CHAPTER FIVE

The first hint of fall colors had appeared on the mountainsides, and I soaked them up on the drive from my condo on the valley floor to my parents’ home in the foothills. Fall in Utah was strange in that whole ‘if you blink you miss it’ way, so I never took the views for granted over the short weeks when the trees were showing off. The temperatures were beginning to drop as the sun set earlier, and I’d thrown a knit cardigan onto the passenger seat next to the still-cooling cherry pie I was bringing for dessert. A carton of whipping cream bounced around next to it, and I couldn’t wait to whip it up and let it swirl around my mouth against the sharpness of the cherries and the buttery crust.

I pulled into the circular drive and parked behind Leonard’s luxury sedan. He and Connie had been to dinner last Sunday so I hadn’t expected them this week, but it wasn’t necessarily unusual for them to be there. And, thanks to Mom’s southern upbringing, there was never a shortage of food. She always made so much that I’d started bringing my own set of reusable to-go containers in my big bag. Mom laughed every time I pulled them out, and I always thanked her for making me two meals instead of just one.

I was actually kind of glad Leonard would be there. It was the perfect time to have a little face-to-face about Ford and set the record straight. I’d spoken to my parents during the week, so at least I didn’t need to tackle that this evening.

My parents’ home was a large Tudor with triangle shapes for a roof line, red brick, and large white-trimmed windows that let in the sunlight. I’d always loved the light-filled den with shelves of books and a big rug where I’d sat in the sun like a cat, reading as I soaked up the rays. It had been a happy childhood, and home had been a comfortable place. Yes, there had been weekly mental health check-ins and goal-setting sessions. Truth be told, that’s probably what Sunday dinner was still about. I had no illusions that my parents didn’t do a full rundown of my behaviors and statements after I left. It didn’t bother me because I could admit that their guidance and awareness of me had contributed greatly to my success as a person. Plus, they never crossed over into giving me unwarranted advice or feedback--which was exactly why finding out they were worried about my dating life had been so surprising. Normally, they would have already expressed that.

I pushed open the wooden front door and took in the scents of roast and rolls. Yum. My favorite dinner was the classic roast beef, potatoes, green beans, and rolls that Mom had long ago perfected. This probably explained the addition of Leonard and Connie, who were also fans. Add to that the pie I was carrying, and I could have floated down the hallway and into the kitchen.

Familiar voices that I’d known my entire life carried from the back of the house where it opened into the large kitchen and living space. My dad was calling out to Leonard about some Major League Baseball game that was coming up, and I could hear Mom and Leonard’s wife Connie chatting comfortably as they set the table. The clink of cutlery and dinnerware sounding against the light classical music playing through hidden speakers all worked together to create a cozy atmosphere.

An atmosphere that I hoped to not destroy when I launched my truth bombs at Leonard.

I came out of the entrance hall into the warm room with a large smile on my face and held up my pie. “Hi everyo- . . .” My expression, and my body, froze midstep. The pie, however, was still hovering at chin level as my eyes took in a man, standing in the dining alcove, looking out over my dad’s immaculate garden.

Ford Whittaker.

He turned to greet me with a friendly look, and my heart caught in my chest. Was I asleep? I blinked a few times as my fantasy world tried to overtake real life. Ford, standing in my parents’ warm kitchen, smiling at me like he belonged there and had been waiting for me to arrive. I was stiff with confusion, knowing that something was wrong, so wrong. My heart was racing as my mind whirled. Why would he be here? Had things gone wrong at the business meal Leonard had mentioned, and he was hoping for a redo?

“Hailey,” Mom called, setting down the napkins she’d been placing and coming to me with open arms. I had my mom’s same light coloring, and she brushed her white-blonde bangs out of her eyes as she neared. Her blue eyes were watchful, but I saw a dangerous spark that reeked of hope. “That pie looks delicious. Cherry?” She typically hugged me in greeting, but a pie plate was firmly rooted between our two faces, my eyes still locked on Ford. So, she turned to Dad who was leaning against the back of the couch looking cool as a cucumber and incredibly amused. “Conrad, she made your favorite.” Her voice was cheery, but her body language was off. She was nervous and fluttery as she reached back toward me. “Let me take that, sugar.”

I pried my eyes away from the surprise guest, half thinking that when I looked back he’d have disappeared, and handed Mom the pie. I followed her to the island where she was staging the food until the table was ready. Dad pushed to standing and came to join us.

“You look beautiful, as always.” He reached a hand around to my upper back and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Leonard brought him, unannounced. Mom and I didn’t know,” he whispered against my ear, causing his gray beard to scratch against my skin. “But he seems intelligent, and he’s certainly well groomed. I can see why Leonard thinks you’d be interested in him.”

I looked into his eyes as he pulled back, and I knew he saw how horrified I felt. Although, he was still eating it up, as indicated by the way his brown eyes were practically shooting out beams of sunlight. If he wasn’t careful, his glasses were going to crack. Leave it to Dad to find these situations hysterical.

I ran my tongue over my teeth before biting my lips. “It’s fine. You and Mom know the truth, so . . .”

He straightened fully. “I look forward to getting to know him better.” He tugged at the hem of his shirt, a habit I shared with him, and wandered off to finish his conversation with Leonard.

I hoped he enjoyed the time with his best friend, because even though I was going to do my best to be cool and calm, I was also plotting ways to get back at Leonard. The man had manipulated his last situation. I must have attracted the old meddler with my thoughts because he came to where I was standing. I braced my hands on the counter next to where Mom had set my pie and offered him a tight smile.

“Don’t give me that look,” Leonard teased. “I can’t come up with a good excuse for why I invited Ford, so I’ll just tell you that I hope you’ll give him a chance.”

My stomach clenched with worry. I wished I could attribute the invitation to their business but this stunk like old fish. “Is this a set up? At family dinner?”

He grinned like he’d brokered a deal that was entirely to his benefit. “If that’s how you see it.”

“I’m not the only one seeing it that way. Did you see Dad’s face?” I wanted to hiss it out, but my words were measured and casual despite my forearms tensing. “And my mom? She’s walking around like she doesn’t know how to feel.”

He nodded. “Conrad’s enjoying it, but they both know not to get their hopes up.”

“You do realize you’ve crossed a line here? I don’t even know Ford.”

“I know. Ford explained everything the other night at our dinner.”

---