Page 41 of To Belong Together
Why did she keep doing that? Taking his interest as an insult?
He swayed slightly and blinked hard, clearly uncomfortable in ways that had nothing to do with her. As his focus sharpened on her again, he tapped his knuckles on the table. “But that’s obviously not why you’re here. So.” His jaw flexed. “Are you after fame or my bank account?”
“Neither.” Her voice came out small.
“That’s right. It’s your job. He’ll fire you if I don’t come back?”
She shrugged, feeling utterly defeated and embarrassed. If she couldn’t explain her own actions, how could she predict Uncle Nick’s?
“It always comes back to money somehow.”
If wishing for something could make it come true, she’d disappear. She hadn’t treated John fairly when she’d turned away his business. Nor had she been right to accuse him of wanting her to be something she wasn’t. She should apologize, but would he believe her?
John opened a cabinet drawer, took out a piece of paper, and copied something off his phone. He slid the paper across the table. “If he fires you, call that number. I’ll cover the expense.”
“This is a lawyer?”
“Shewon’t lose.”
She studied the paper in her hands. This meant he wasn’t bringing his car back. She would lose more respect at work for losing his business, and she didn’t even have a relationship to show for it. “If I wanted fame or money, I wouldn’t be working on cars in Nowheresville, Wisconsin.”
“But if the opportunity for both asked you to coffee, you wouldn’t knowingly decline.”
“I would if I wasn’t sure about the guy the opportunity came with. You said you showed me who you are, but that takes more than a few test drives. We’re not all freakishly good at reading people.” She abandoned her soup to collect her coat from the corner. “Camo’s paperwork and medicine are over there. I gave him his first dose at five.”
John slid into his seat, rubbing his forehead.
“So you don’t misunderstand.” She lay the paper with the lawyer’s information on the corner of the table, refusing the offer. Even if Nick fired her, suing family would only make life more unbearable.
He lifted his gaze, more convincing puppy-dog eyes than Trigger and Camo had given her all day. Whatever he thought, he didn’t say it, and she wasn’t sure she could survive another run-in with an iceberg.
She shrugged into the coat and zipped it on her way out the door.
John didn’t follow.
14
The doctor wrapped John’s forearm in cotton while Gannon crossed and re-crossed his arms. As the physician reached for the outer layer of casting material, her gaze hopped toward the lead singer. The guy couldn’t help attracting attention, even when John was the one receiving care.
“Six to eight weeks.” The doctor’s repeated order meant she thought they wouldn’t honor the ban on using John’s broken arm for drumming.
The nurse, who stood eagerly nearby, put a pep talk in a smile.
John nodded his intent to comply. Between the headaches and fatigue, six to eight weeks of excuses suited him.
Gannon, however, had talked the whole drive to the doctor’s office about the songs he’d written since the accident. He slid to the edge of his chair, clearly preparing to negotiate a shorter time frame.
John eyed him. “Call in Macky.”
Gannon had come to appreciate the other drummer’s talent when their bands had toured together. Apparently not enough, however, because Gannon’s expression shadowed.
At least the lead singer remained quiet as the procedure finished.
When they stood to leave, the nurse bounced, about to bust with an unasked question.
Anticipating her request, John asked, “What do you have for us to autograph?”
The woman’s grin broke loose. She produced a folded piece of blue paper from the pocket of her scrubs. John held the slip in place on the countertop with the fingers of his bad arm and signed.
