Page 58 of What You Own
“Yes, I do. Even put up with me.”
“Now that I know how far you’re willing to go for him, I might start liking you better.”
I laughed, and so did she. She glanced past me. Her smile dimmed. My stomach wobbled, and I steeled my spine before I turned around.
Dad and Joe stood inside the auditorium, dressed up in their best suits, each looking like they were worth every single penny they had and then some. Heads turned—a few my way, because of last night. Joe gave me a nod and a sad smile before he followed Dad over to Lou.
Ryan saw them coming. He glanced at me, but he didn’t move away from the light board.
They spoke to Lou, who seemed polite enough. Ryan told me he’d fill Lou in on the behind-the-scenes drama and explain last night, so Lou didn’t get blindsided by anything. Susan and Larry were all polite smiles too, when they were introduced. Lou introduced Ryan to Joe, and I wished I knew what Joe was thinking right now.
The big clock on the wall inched its way closer to six. Lou, Joe, and Dad went into the lobby to begin greeting folks. I busied myself with adjusting the rows of chairs to mind-numbing perfection, until Ryan sidled up next to me and put his hand on the small of my back.
“Relax a little, hoss,” he whispered. “You’re gonna sprain somethin’ if you get wound up any tighter.”
“Sorry, it’s just… I know he won’t make a scene, but I can’t help feeling like….”
“That other shoe’s gonna drop?”
“Exactly.”
“If it does, we’ll deal with it. ’Kay?”
“Okay.”
At six, we joined the rest of the committee members in the lobby, where a line of people were waiting to come inside. My heart gave an extra beat. Ryan squeezed my hand, and I wanted to hold it tight while we got through the meet-and-greet part of the night, but I didn’t dare. We needed deep pockets, and sometimes donations shrank with the force of someone’s personal prejudice.
I lost track of how many people I spoke with. The number coming in the door, filling the lobby, and spilling into the auditorium surprised me. We’d advertised the hell out of this, thanks to my account at LQF, but I didn’t expect this attendance. Most folks had bought tickets in advance, but we had a limited number available at the door, and those seemed to be selling, as well.
A spindly boy with a mop of blond hair emerged from the crowd and bounced in front of Ryan. “It’s almost time, right?” he asked.
“Very soon, Tommy,” Ryan said. “I want you to meet someone special to me. This is Adam Langley.”
“Hi, Tommy,” I said, loving the way Ryan saidsomeone special to me.
“Hi, Adam.” Tommy’s eyes went wide. “Are you boyfriends now?”
Now? Apparently Tommy had asked Ryan this question once before. No sense in lying to the kid, since the center was probably buzzing about last night’s impromptu performance. “Um, yes?”
“Cool!”
“Was your mom able to make it?” Ryan said, thankfully dragging the subject away from us.
“No, but Uncle William and Uncle Bobby brought me. Over there!”
Tommy pointed. I got a look at two men through the crowd, one tall and muscular, and the other shorter, blond like Tommy. The taller of the two turned, maybe looking for Tommy, and something familiar made me pause. Stare.
Bobby.
Ryan’s arm jerked in the same moment I said, “Fuck.”
Bobby Chandler had been one of the football players with Chad Phillips that night. The night my head was smashed in with a brick. And he was walking straight toward us.
Chapter 17
Ryan
MYWHOLEbody coiled up tight, every muscle on the defense, furious at Bobby for being in the same room as us, much less walking in our direction. I moved forward and to the side, getting in front of Adam, protecting him like I’d tried to do that night.
