Page 17 of What You Own
We all said good-bye at the door. I hugged both my parents, insanely glad to have them on my side, always.
“You be careful, son,” Daddy said. From him, it was as good as an “I love you.”
“I will.”
I had enough time to swing by the apartment before the meeting. I put the chicken in the fridge, changed out of my Walgreens polo, and managed to arrive at the center first. We were meeting in the empty office next to Lou’s. He was already gone for the night, so I hung out, letting dinner settle, while the others showed up.
Larry and Susan Bishop were as mismatched a married couple as you could find. He was a tall, burly bear of a man with tattoo sleeves on both arms and a full chin of whiskers. She was a short, chubby woman with frizzy strawberry-blonde hair and a face full of freckles. Susan carried conversations with a bullhorn voice, while Larry spoke softer than a whore in church. But they’d been married close to thirty years, had fostered almost two dozen kids—many of whom they’d met through the center—and they cared about the place almost as much as Lou.
They came in first, each sipping milkshakes from McDonald’s, and laughing at some continued conversation.
“There’s the hero,” Susan said when she spotted me lurking at the folding table that served as a desk. She toddled over and swept me up into a hug. She smelled like chocolate and patchouli. “How did you manage to get Langley-Quartermaine on board so fast?”
“Luck,” I said. Adam hadn’t spilled about our connection to Lou, so I wasn’t gonna out him now.
“This is fantastic. I can’t wait to get started.”
Ellie showed up with a dry erase board from one of the classrooms, as well as a handful of notepads and pens. I hadn’t thought to do any of that. As she was setting up the board, Adam appeared in the office doorway.
He wasn’t wearing the same stuck-up suit as yesterday. A pair of crazy-worn 501’s barely hung on to his hips, and he’d draped a dark-green T-shirt over his torso. He always looked good in that color. The casual clothes made him look five years younger, a lot more innocent. And damn if my dick didn’t take notice too. He met my gaze, and his lips twitched.
Son of a bitch dressed like that on purpose.
“Can we help you?” Larry asked, his soft tone edged with irritation.
“This is Adam Langley,” Ellie said. “He’s the guy who got LQF on board with the fundraiser.”
“Langley?” Susan said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Adam said, flashing her a brilliant smile. “My father is one of the company partners.”
“You here to keep an eye on your money?”
His smile faltered.
“Adam’s joining the committee because he has theater experience,” Ellie said. “And he’s working on his business degree, so the fundraiser is something he can use for school.”
Susan perked up. “What kind of theater experience?”
“Four years of stage crew work,” Adam said. “I like being behind the scenes.”
“He also sings,” Ellie said, “and he’s agreed to perform at the benefit.”
“Does that mean I don’t have to now?” Larry asked.
“Not a chance you’re wiggling out of this, honey,” Susan said. Larry groaned. “Well, then, Adam, come on in and have a seat so we can get this show on the road.”
He sat across the table from me, and it was still too close. He might as well have been sitting in my lap for the way my body knew he was near. His aftershave wafted over, something spicy and dark and wonderful that made me want to lean over and inhale deeper. My jeans got tight in the lap, but I wasn’t about to adjust myself with Larry right next to me.
As far as the meeting itself, I don’t remember a lot of what was said. I spent most of it failing to ignore Adam, who spent most of it bantering back and forth with Ellie and Susan. Between the three of them, Larry and I didn’t need to do anything except sit there and look pretty. The white board filled up with things to do, like food and drinks, auction donations, practice times for the kids and adults, and advertising.
When the topic shifted to individual performances, I started paying closer attention.
“Neither of us can sing for shit,” Larry said, indicating himself and Susan.
“So play it for laughs,” Ellie said. “Do a version of ‘Anything You Can Do.’ It’s perfect for a married couple.”
Susan snorted her milkshake, then said, “Oh, I like that idea. What about you?”
