Mia Found (Starting Fires Book 3) (30 page)

My new employer was named Tanya and she might have had a drinking problem. You’d never know looking at her, but when I arrived at the bar the next afternoon, I noticed a tiny flask in her purse. She took it out every so often for tiny sips. She was perfectly content to let me choose the art and layout for her new bar, Savage Noble.

I suggested contacting Catherine at Atlantis
to see if any of her artist would be willing to showcase their work for free publicity. Tanya loved the idea. Catherine did, too. Tanya let me pick the paintings, trusting my “artistic eye,” and I went over possible table placements with her.

It took most of the afternoon, but we spent a little more time discussing my job at finding bands. She planned to have one play every Friday and Saturday night and my job would be to locate them, convince them to play for a small payout, and then ensure everything ran smoothly during their show.

I left smiling.

With this added income, I would be able to leave my parents’ house. It wasn’t the amazing, everything I could ever dream of job, but it
was
a job. I couldn’t afford to be choosy.

Paul flew in the following night and I couldn’t wait to fill him in on my news. He was staying at a hotel over the weekend and my parents grumbled and complained.

“
It’s not right, Mia,” my mother had said. “Staying at a hotel with a man. What will people think?”

Whatever they want.
He certainly wasn’t going to bed down there. We’d have
zero
privacy.

Late that night, he arrived at my parent’s house to pick me up. I rushed out the front door before he even stepped out of the car.

We met in the yard and I jumped into his arms. Paul caught me effortlessly and held me close. “God, I missed the way you smell,” he said. “My pillows don’t do it justice.”

I showered his face with kisses. “I miss everything about you.”

Our lips met and my mother yelled from the porch. “Paul? Is that you, honey? Come on in and get a bite to eat.”

“
Yes, ma’am,” he said, setting my feet back on the ground. I grasped his arm as we walked into the house, unable to part from his touch. While he ate, I doted on him, running my fingers through his hair, resting my head on his shoulder. My hands kept touching new parts of him—his leg, his arm, his face.

“
Mia, let the boy eat,” my mother said and Paul chuckled.

“
Trust me, I don’t mind.”

“
Well, you’re not going anywhere for the next ten minutes. Besides, Mia, don’t you have something you want to tell him?” My mother’s eyebrows rose with a gleam.

I’d wanted it to be a surprise. I’d had it all planned out, but now Paul looked over at me, his mouth full of food as he chewed. “What is it? Did something happen?”

“
Well.” I rolled my eyes at my mother and smiled at him. “I got a job. A pretty decent one. With it and my current one, I’ll be able to get my own place again.”

“
That’s great, Pretty! Where is it?”

“
This new bar opening up. They want me to hire bands and handle all the musical acts coming in. I know it’s not necessarily in my field, but it pays well.”

“
No, it’s wonderful!” His smile was big and bright. “You’ll be great at it.”

When his belly was full to my mother’s liking, we bid her farewell. My father was mysteriously absent, likely because he didn’t want to know I was leaving to spend the night with a man. Some things never change.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

OUR WEEKEND COULDN’T HAVE been more perfect. I still had to work at both my jobs, but Paul came with me. At Faeries and Moonbeams he followed me around, affectionately touching me as often as he could. I didn’t even care what the customers thought. He was making up for lost time and I adored it.

“
How long do you have to work there?” I asked him while he was distracted. He was standing behind me, running his fingers through my hair.

“
In Florida?” Paul asked.

“
Mmhmm.” He’d never told me, only mentioned trying to get out of the contract if I wanted him to.

His hand stilled and he cleared his throat. “Two years.”

My inhale was sharp.

“
I’ve been looking over the contract,” he rushed out. “Trying to find a way out of it. I’m an idiot, Mia. When I saw what they were offering, I–I didn’t even question it. I’d get a change of scenery, something more challenging, and you wouldn’t have to worry about a job like you are now. You could have taken your time, found something that suited you. Trust me, I know how stupid that was.”

“
What did they offer you?”

He cleared his throat again. “$20,000 sign on and an end of the year bonus every subsequent year. Plus a relocation fee.”

“
Geez,” I said, flipping around to face him. “How good of an accountant are you?”

Paul chuckled. “I’m pretty good.”

My smile was sad and I looked to my fingers, toying with them. “Two years, huh?”

“
A lot can change in two years,” he said, rubbing my shoulder.

A lot
could.
And not in the sense that he meant.

“
Don’t give up on me,” Paul said. “I won’t give up on you.”

He kissed me, but we pulled apart as a customer came in. Our future seemed so hazy. Gray. Nothing was certain and it scared me. But one thing
was—
I wasn’t giving up on Paul.

Savage Noble wasn’t open but we drove by so I could show off what I’d done and get Paul’s opinion. He loved the art wall. At least ten different painters donated their work, and I meticulously placed them. Paul said it looked like a museum and it made me blush. The side room was open to the main bar, the stage being located there. It wasn’t a large stage, but it made it more intimate. Tanya was going to let me design it exactly how I wanted and I planned to remove the harsh lighting, replacing it with something softer.

It was going to look classy, just as she wanted.

“
When I come back are you even going to have time for me?” he asked, smiling. “This is all great, Mia. Wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”

His plane left the following night and we opted to stay in his hotel room instead of going out. We ordered room service, and cuddled in bed.

“
Next time you visit, I might have my own place,” I said. “We can stay there.”

“
Mmmm,” he said, rolling over and slipping his hand down my pajamas. “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay gone. This…you…How am I going to do it? How did I even manage before you?”

I smiled through my moan. Often, I’d thought the same thing. If Paul wasn’t near, everything felt empty. His presence gave everything substance. Meaning. “I love you,” I whispered, clutching his wrist, begging him not to stop.

He didn’t say it back, but his eyelids drooped and his mouth went to my shoulder, kissing its way to my neck. I came apart under his fingers and then again when he ripped off my pants and pushed inside me.

Despite how frantic and desperate we should have been, both of us relished the slowness of it, the soft, steady progression. Our legs and arms tangled as we said how desperately we missed the other. Not with words—only the truth of our bodies.

It lasted for hours and I slept more peacefully than I had in weeks with Paul curled up behind me.

He didn’t let me focus on him leaving the next morning. It was only a few short hours before his plane departed and he told me to pretend like I would see him again in a day.

“
How am I supposed to pretend that?”

“
I know it’s hard, but I can’t stand thinking of you being so sad.”

“
Are you sad?”

He gave me a look—a narrowing of his eyebrows, a pursing of his lips.
Why would you even ask?
it said. “Of course I am, but I don’t want
you
to be.”

“
Easier said than done.”

“
You’ll call me and tell me how work is going?” he asked. I nodded. “You’ll tell me if you need anything?” I nodded. “Every day I’ll miss you. Every night I’ll think of you as I’m trying to sleep. Before we know it, I’ll be back.”

I had a feeling Paul’s insistence that I try not to be sad was based on his guilt. My blame was done, but it still bothered him that he’d put us in this predicament.

“
I’ll try to be positive,” I said.

Our goodbye was delivered on my parents’ porch. He kissed me soft and slow before leaving. “It’s killing me, too,” he whispered. “I want you with me.”

I nearly said
take me with you,
but stopped myself. Though, if the next two weeks would be as hard as these, I didn’t know if I’d have the strength next time.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

PROMISES ARE EASY TO make. They roll off the tongue like a sweet kiss. You mean it. You believe it. But keeping promises is harder. It’s not your fault. You intend to keep them, but things happen. Life happens. And your promises drift away.

Paul had been gone for two weeks, but showed no sign of returning soon. His new accounting firm had him flying all over the country to handle crises. I tried to be optimistic, but it felt like someone pulled the rug out from under me.

To make matters worse, my recruiting job at Savage Noble began, and I’d been running all over town listening to bands, contacting managers, and doing my best to convince people to play at the new bar.

In the past, playing at Cowboy’s hadn’t been a reputable gig. Bands were rarely ever paid, and the crowd was rambunctious and rude. People needed convincing.

My nightly phone calls to Paul were teetering off, and we were lucky if we had time to send a few text messages through the day. I missed him, but I was also busy and it helped keep my mind off the constant ache in my heart.

It was our Grand Opening and I hired a local folk band to play. Most of the customers were friends or family, but it was still busy. When the first strums of the banjo started, I sighed with relief and walked into the main bar area, needing some water. I waved towards the bartender and froze.

In all his tatted glory, Fontenot was behind the counter, casually mixing drinks and filling pints. Our eyes connected and he didn’t even seem surprised to see me.

“
Mamma Mia,” he said, walking over. “It’s been a while.”

“
What are you doing here?”

“
I work here.”

“
You already have a job. And it’s
not
as a bartender.”

“
Chill out,” he said, filling a glass with ice. I hadn’t even told him what I wanted. He brought the water dispenser to it and slid it to me. “Tanya needs the help.”

“
Are you sure you didn’t get laid off or something?”

He leaned on the counter and grinned at me. “That’s a little personal, babe. But if you must know, the company I work for went under. Tanya’s helping me out until I can find another gig.”

Great. Just freaking great.

“
Fine. Just–just—”

“
Stay the fuck away from you. Got it.” Fontenot grinned and I narrowed my eyes. “Where’s Paul, by the way. I figured he’d be attached to your hip.”

“
He’s not here.”

His smile was sly. “I know.”

“
You know he’s not here or you know something else?”

He shrugged.

I grabbed my water and took a giant sip. “Try to keep the Jerry Springer crap to a minimum,” I said, seething, and stood from the bar.

“
Yes, ma’am,” he winked.

The band played well and if no one else liked them, I did. They sounded old, like they belonged in a different era. The singer’s voice was deep and thick, his long beard making him look as though he just walked out of the woods and onto the stage. He was mesmerizing.