Page 50 of So Not My Thing
I lied because I had to. “I want someone with Bywater roots in there. Who grew up there or grew up spending time there like I did.”
“Figures.” His lips twisted, and his tone was almost bitter.
“What does?”
“That I don’t fit the profile perfectly.” His fists clenched on top of the tablecloth. “It’s been the story of my life. The music industry tried to force me into prechecked boxes, and I was miserable until I rejected their labels. Literally. And now I don’t fit your boxes, so you won’t even consider that I might understand the Bywater better than you think I do.”
I shifted in my chair, uncomfortable with the emotion radiating off of him. He’d always been so mellow, and for the first time, I saw hints of the anger that must have led to all the tabloid stories about his tantrums and screaming matches over the years.
“Don’t worry,” he said, as he unclenched his fists and pressed them flat on the table. “I’ve had the requisite spiritual retreat to Bali, two years of therapy, and a good dose of humility since I left my label. I’m not angry. Just disappointed.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. Not because I was going to change my mind, but because I’d hurt him without wanting to.
“Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” he asked.
I tried a joke to break the tension. “Go back in time and grow up in the Bywater?”
“That’s what it’s going to take?”
“That’s what it’s going to take.”
The server dropped off our drinks, a Coke for me and iced tea for him. He took a long sip and glanced around the restaurant.
“Have you seen the turtles?” he asked.
It would be a random question anywhere else, but it was one of the things that made Brennan’s famous. The fountain had been home to over a dozen turtles give or take a few for forty years. They sunned themselves and slid with happy plops into the water from time to time. They were as well-known to city natives as the ducks in the Peabody Hotel in Memphis.
“Of course. Used to love feeding them when I was a kid.”
“Same. We came here for Mother’s Day brunch every year and for every special occasion. Because I’mfromhere, Ellie. These are my roots too.” He leaned forward, his eyes a darker shade of blue than usual, the corners creased with worry. “How soon do you expect to fill the space?”
“I don’t know. I’m willing to wait for the right tenant to come along.”
“Could I ask a favor? Could you not sign a lease agreement with anyone until I’ve had a chance to make another pitch?”
He had a determined glint in his eye, but I had no idea what it indicated. I didn’t think my gut level instincts were going to change no matter how much he offered to overpay for the square footage or how fancy his soundproofing was. It was a promise that cost me nothing.
“I can do that, but honestly, don’t get too invested in the idea of that space.”
“Give me a couple of weeks, and we’ll talk about it again,” he said. “I won’t bug you about it until then.”
“Sure. Does that mean you don’t want me to show you any other properties?”
“Yes. I’m going to be busy the next few days, so I won’t have time.”
“No problem.” I said the words casually, but a pang of disappointment in the pit of my stomach caught me by surprise. Miles had become a part of each day even when I didn’t expect him to be. I always got an email or text from him about something. And every other day, he ended up on my schedule for a showing, or he’d appear at the café. I’d even flattered myself into wondering if some of those contacts were excuses to connect with me.
“Great. Hey, I better get you back to the office. I have some stuff I need to do.”
It was as if his mind was already on whatever that stuff was and I had become part of the background. “I’ll grab an Uber,” I told him. “Don’t worry about it.”
Instead of arguing, he pulled out his phone. “I’ll order it for you.” He had it requested before he even finished speaking, flashing the screen at me.
“Thanks,” I said.
“I’ll walk you out.” He threw several twenties on the table, and we hit the sidewalk below Brennan’s front awning as my ride pulled up. “I’ll be in touch.” He was already turning in the direction of the hotel parking before I was all the way in the car.
As the door clicked closed, I had the feeling that we’d disconnected completely.
