Secondhand Heart (4 page)

I had a ton of homework I’d been ignoring, being my birthday week and all, so once I actually did wake up, I made myself an iced coffee and headed out to the back yard to get to work. I prayed that Ev didn’t say anything to my mother about that farce of an interview. If Mom did ask, I’d just tell her it was another day, and then she’d be so wrapped up in shake parties and Zumba she’d forget all about it.

My phone started vibrating at quarter of two. Ev. She probably wanted to know how the interview went. I hit ignore. Nothing to see here, people. Keep moving. She kept calling, and I kept hitting the little red button. Finally, she got the hint, and texted.

I know you’re hitting ignore. And I know you didn’t go.

Fuck. I stared at the message for a minute, and considered ignoring it, too. Instead, I faced the music and called her back. She wasn’t going to leave me alone.

“You’re kidding, right? You blew him off?” She was already mid rant when she answered the phone.

“I didn’t want to waste his time.” Or mine, for that matter. I’m sure he’d had plenty of second thoughts, too. If he’d even remembered he’d made the appointment.

“So you stood him up?” Ev’s voice was shrill. “Cam just called and asked if you were all right. And now I look like an idiot.”

“First of all, there is no way that some reality show star is interested in me.” The whole thing seemed even more ridiculous when it was no longer bathed in a beer haze. “And I’ve never worked in a restaurant.”

“You don’t know what he wanted,” Ev protested. “And it’s not like you can’t learn something new.”

“I am learning new things. I’m concentrating on my classes.” Sort of.

“Bullshit. You’re hiding.” My sister could call me out in a way everyone else was too polite to do. “I rescheduled your interview for three. You can thank me later. And so help me God, if you don’t show up this time---“

“You’ll make me wear an ugly bridesmaids’ dress?” I cracked myself up, even though I was pissed at her for actually making me go through with this.

“The absolute worst. Think eighties prom. In fluorescent yellow. You will look sallow as fuck.”

“I’m almost tempted to see if you can actually find such a monstrosity. Remember, the pictures are forever.” Both of us died laughing. “Fine, I’ll go. But—“

“But what?”

I sighed. I had nothing. “I don’t know. I might want to wear that dress now, just because.”

“Be careful what you wish for. And I want all the details.” Just to make sure she got the last word in, Ev hung up on me.

I still hadn’t showered, and I had an hour before my presence was expected at The Lonely Heart Saloon. I left the house with damp hair, but I did put some makeup on. I resisted the temptation to wear my pajamas. Instead I went with denim shorts and a pink V-necked T-shirt.

The hostess didn’t seem to believe I had an appointment with the boss. To be polite, she led me back to the office and announced my arrival. She didn’t bother to hide her surprise when Cam welcomed me in. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I would’ve been rooting for some knockdown, drag out, stalker drama, too. Got to spice up the lull between lunch and dinner somehow.

Cam lounged with his legs up on the couch, his outfit almost mirroring mine, a faded red T-shirt and shorts. He placed the guitar in his lap on the floor, and got up to greet me.

“I’m glad you could make it.” The skin around those incredible blue eyes still crinkled when he smiled. Those weren’t my beer goggles playing tricks on me. And damn, did he smell good. Just clean and fresh. We both sat on the little couch, only two cushions and not a lot of room. I braced myself, and tried not to let my nerves get the best of me.

“Listen, I don’t know what Ev told you, but if this is a complete waste of your time, I’m sorry.” I’d rehearsed that line, and it lost a little credibility since I’d interrupted nothing but his guitar playing. It wasn’t like the restaurant operations were going to grind to screeching halt while we talked.

Cam chuckled. “Not at all. I want to start by saying I heard about your husband, and I’m sorry for your loss. I appreciate his sacrifice.”

I nodded, closing my eyes for a long blink. When people talked about the sacrifice that Jordan made, it always made it sound like dying at war was part of the plan. Like an old fashioned Kamikaze pilot or one of those guys who thinks he’s going to have seventy-two virgins waiting for him in heaven if he dies for his country. But it wasn’t. For Jordan, joining the Air Force was the ultimate adventure. He wanted to learn how to fly a bad ass fighter jet and see the world. After he was done with his tour of duty, we were going to try to get transferred overseas. Jordan wanted to be an engineer, and I had been thinking about teaching English as a second language.

It was hard not to blurt that out, every time, how things were supposed to be for me and Jordan. Instead, I said what I always did, the only appropriate thing, even though it didn’t even begin to cover it. “Thanks.”

“Have you worked in a restaurant before?” Cam leaned forward, I watched his shorts slide up on his tan thighs, muscle defined just enough with little lines pointing me in all the wrong directions, as he rested his forearms on them.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Between thinking about Jordan and being in a room alone with Cam, my head was anywhere but in the game.

He smiled and took it in stride. It wasn’t like I was the first bimbo to cross his path. Probably not even the first today. “Have you done this before?”

His teeth played with his bottom lip as he waited for my answer. I wondered if he realized how loaded his question sounded. “No. I have absolutely no experience working in a restaurant.”

“What do you have experience in?”

Butterflies did jumping jacks in my stomach. I just let him off the hook of the façade that this was actually a legitimate interview. He didn’t need to keep asking me all these questions loaded with double entandres. “I worked in a daycare in high school.”

“What are you doing now?” This poor guy, he must have felt like he was interrogating a surly teenager.

“I’m living with my parents and going to community college.”

“What are you going to school for?” God bless him, he still seemed interested.

“The hell of it.”

Cam laughed, leaning back and running his fingers through his hair. “You’re honest. I like that.”

I relaxed a little, he thought I was funny? “Like I said, I know my sister put you up to this. I’m sorry to be wasting your time.”

“And I said you weren’t.” His eyes met mine, almost like a magnet. He smiled again, softening. “Evey just wants to see you happy. I don’t think that’s a waste of time.”

I didn’t answer him right away. He meant well, but his words sent so many emotions crashing against me. What had she told him? I didn’t want him to think I was some damsel in distress, waiting for him to save me. “Nobody calls her Evey anymore. It’s kind of nice that you do.”

“She’ll always be Evey to me. I wish she was still singing. I keep trying to get her to do a night here, but she won’t listen.”

Some things ran in the family. “I don’t think she’s sung at all since The Spotlight.” That show obliterated any confidence she had in her talent. But at the time, it seemed like such a great opportunity. We never even considered there could be a downside.

Cam shook his head. “Show business will chew you up and spit you out.”

So I wasn’t the only one with battle scars in this room. “Is that why you’re here?” I asked cautiously.

He considered his answer. “Some of it. I want my career to go in a new direction, to take control and do something I'm proud of.”

I could tell that wasn’t the first time he’d said that. Maybe people asked him questions he didn’t want to answer all the time, too. I almost asked if he wasn’t proud of what he’d done so far, more out of shock. To be so successful and to be unsatisfied seemed like such opposing thoughts. “I understand.”

“I could use some help with that. I feel like I’m new around here, since I haven’t been back much in the past seven years. I need to get settled in, but I’m still splitting my time between here, Nashville, and LA.”

“So do you need, like, a personal assistant?” That sounded like a job I could do. And a little glamorous. I pictured my business cards. Daisy Mangold, personal assistant to Cam Hunter.

Cam shrugged slightly. “I was thinking more like a friend.”

I smiled. That was even better. “I can do that.”

B
abies wait for no one, that’s one thing we’d already established. We needed to hustle if we were going to get a ring on Ev’s finger before she gave birth, and she chose Labor Day weekend for the big day. Ev wasted no time creating a Pinterest board dedicated to her wedding wishes. My feed was jammed with burlap, chalkboards, and string lights. I learned that you can put more things in mason jars than I ever thought possible. Who knew hipsters were so southern? Talk about irony.

Ev and Bree had also started an email thread full of ideas for the wedding. The problem with coming into these things in the middle was trying to read the conversation backwards, and a message or two always got lost in the shuffle. Instead of feeling like I was standing on my head and spinning, I usually ignored these types of conversations. This time I knew I didn’t have that option.

I didn’t have any time to bask in my new friendship with Cam, or whatever the hell just happened. All of this virtual wedding planning bitch slapped my head right out of the clouds. I scrolled through the messages while daydreaming about bringing Cam as my date to the wedding. You know, just as a friend. Kissing those lips under the glow of paper lanterns. Bringing Cam to my house. To meet my mother.

Alright, I was getting a little carried away. I might not even talk to him again.

Ev wanted to hire a food truck for her wedding? Okay, that was kind of bad ass. Bree suggested, again, that she should hire Cam. And damn it, Ev talked to him. Cam was in. Could I date the hired help?

If he even wanted to be my date.

Had Ev talked to him since my interview? There was only one way to find out. And she probably knew more about what he wanted than I did.

“I’m kind of in love with the food truck idea,” I said when she picked up the phone.

“Isn’t it great?” Ev sounded high off of wedding fumes. “I want this to be like one of the block parties we used to have when we were kids. A shut the street down for volleyball type of thing. Tomorrow I’m going to talk to the people at the truck that parks near our office.”

“You know, half of our family is going to take it personally if you don’t offer them something to eat that had a mother.” I had a feeling I was going to be reminding Ev of her suburban roots often during this whole process.

“It’s a taco truck. Just because I opt for the beet and goat cheese option doesn’t mean they don’t have gross beef things for people.” I could actually feel her shudder against her phone. “I don’t agree with it, but you’re right. There would be an uprising.”

“Nah, they’d probably just talk about you behind your back and have pizza delivered.” I laughed. Our extended family may be a lot of things, but passive aggressive topped the list. “Hey, um, I don’t mean to make this about me, but—“

“How did it go? I’ve been dying to ask you.” Ev’s voice automatically went up an octave.

“Did you hire Cam before or after I talked to him?” In a way, I was hoping it was after. In girl language, that could be translated as he was looking for something a bit more serious. No matter when it was, it meant that I had to make sure I didn’t screw things up with him until after the wedding.

“Before. I asked him about it when he called looking for you.” Damn. “Stop stalling and tell me everything.”

“It was…interesting?” I wasn’t sure what word I wanted to use. “He was a perfect gentleman, and tried to go through with a proper interview even though I bring absolutely nothing to the table.”

“So you didn’t get to first base in the back room?” Ev sounded a little disappointed.

“Shit. I was only supposed to go to first base? The place has a mechanical bull. I thought that was like the casting couch.” I stifled laughter when Ev gasped in horror. “Believe it or not, I acted like a lady. He wants me to help him get settled in Plymouth.”

“Like a personal assistant?” she asked. “That would be really cool. We’d kind of be working together.”

“No, like a friend. I am the first woman in history to get friend zoned during a job interview,” I sighed.

“Oh.” Ev clearly didn’t know what to make of that. “That’s a good thing, I think. Let’s face it, you’re not exactly ready to start dating, and I’m not even sure if Cam is totally divorced yet. Both of you are just getting back on your feet.”

“Maybe we can talk about our therapy sessions when we hang out.”

“Daisy, come on. You blew the guy off, and now you’re upset you didn’t get more out of meeting with him? You’re not being fair to anyone, especially yourself.”

I knew that better than anyone else. Just because Jordan had died didn’t mean I had to. But the push and pull threatened to rip me apart. Half of me wanted to live, and the other half felt guilty as hell about it.