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CHAPTER TWO (#uc6bcb443-80dc-509e-88dd-502c602d74df)
“THANKS, DAD. YOU JUST blew my chance to talk to the greatest songwriter who ever lived.”
Her father lifted a haughty brow. “The greatest who ever lived? I believe that’s a bit of an overstatement.”
“You know what I meant. Luke had a stellar career.”
“Which he walked away from. Messy personal life if I remember correctly.” His eyes narrowed. “And why is it so important to talk to him?”
Like she’d admit her writer’s block to anyone, especially her father. “I’m a fan. That’s all.”
“Cassandra, he’s been reduced to a wedding band singer. Old news. Focus on the future.”
Why did she even bother speaking to her father? Fisting her hands together, she turned and navigated through the mingling guests. What had her father been thinking? See, this was why she kept her distance. Her father didn’t have a clue about who she was or what she wanted.
She’d just reached the door to leave when it hit her. Luke could help her. She needed his expertise. The question was, how could she get it?
The band started up again. Instead of storming off like she’d intended, she went back to the table she’d been seated at earlier. She angled her chair to face the far side of the room. A bird’s eye view of the man in question.
She needed a plan. A way to work up the nerve to ask the legendary Luke Hastings for some tips to help her out of her writing funk. But how? This certainly wasn’t the opportune place to approach him. Yet if she didn’t talk to him tonight, she might miss her one and only chance.
“I just danced with Father,” Lauren said as she flopped into the chair beside her. “He seems distracted. What did you do?”
“Why do you always assume I did something?”
“Because I saw the heated conversation between you two.”
Cassie sent her a sideways glance. “Just the usual. Honestly, I’m more interested in Luke. What do you know about him?”
“Like, what subject he teaches? If he’s involved with anyone?”
“No. His life here in Cypress Pointe.”
Lauren crossed one leg over the other. “Let’s see. Moved here a couple years ago. His cousin owns the Grand Cypress Hotel. He teaches English at the high school and started an after-school program that morphed into a community outreach for at-risk teens.”
“Wow.”
“Kids’ Klub has been pretty successful. Redirects kids going in the wrong direction.”
Noble and hunky. Perfect combination.
“Why are you so interested?” Her sister’s eyes went wide. “Oh, my gosh, you have a crush on him.”
“I do not,” Cassie insisted, even if she couldn’t meet her sister’s gaze. “I want to talk to him about something and it would help if I knew more about him.”
“So explain why your cheeks are red.”
“It’s hot in here.”
“Right. Don’t forget, I’m the one who heard all about your undying love for Chris Johnson.”
“Chris Johnson?” Cassie’s mouth gaped. “That was like eight years ago.”
“And you were crushed when he broke up with you.”
True, she was, but moving away from Cypress Pointe and keeping busy had gotten her through that dark period in her life.
“Just so you know, he got fat.”
Cassie laughed out loud. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
Her sister’s quick grin slowly faded. “I miss our times together.”
“Me, too.”
Cassie’s heart squeezed at her sister’s soft expression. They hadn’t grown apart, exactly, more like distance, time and separate lives put a strain on their relationship. Their differing views on their father, Lauren’s insistence on proving herself to him while Cassie didn’t want him around, created another, ongoing source of tension between them.
“I’m glad you let me stay with you. Since Mom and Bud are still away, I didn’t want to spend all my time in their empty house.”
“That what sisters do. Let each other crash on the other’s extra bed.”
“I was hoping we could—”
Lauren jumped up “Angelica is waving me over. I’ll be right back.”
“Hold on.” Cassie grabbed her arm. “So if Luke is so busy, why the wedding band?”
Lauren shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him yourself.” Then she was gone.
Cassie blew out a sigh.
She glanced across the room. Luke picked the guitar with one hand, his fingers effortlessly positioning the chords with the other, and sang along with the guys. So in the moment, he moved with the beat, smiled at a band member from time to time. How she missed the total abandonment she experienced when she sang and played her piano, lost in the words and the tempo.
Her heartbeat sped up again, matching the emotions swirling inside. As she studied Luke, she realized she’d first thought his hair was shaggy. The more she looked, the more she realized it had been deliberately styled. It gave him a bit of a free spirit look, yet not out of control. Hmm, some stylist in his past life had taught him well.
His fingers expertly moved up and down the neck of the guitar, bringing an unmistakable sound from the instrument. He certainly had a flair. The band performed mostly wedding standards, she noticed, none of the songs that made Luke famous. From his attitude earlier, he probably avoided those particular songs on purpose.
Twenty minutes later the band took a break. Cassie waited for Luke to be alone, but one of the band members was talking his ear off. She should wander over, start another conversation with him, but she couldn’t seem to leave the chair.
Even though he’d made it clear he didn’t talk about the industry, Cassie couldn’t take no for an answer. Her chest constricted, the noose of her future pulling tighter. She could do this. She’d gathered enough information about Luke to make small talk while she bided her time to get to the root of her dilemma. She just had to wait for a chance to grab his attention. Luckily, she was a patient woman.
She swore he’d looked directly at her during one of the numbers, but the lights were too low to know for sure. Her imagination? Hopeful wishing? She sat through two more sets before the party began to wind down and the band finally performed their final number.
To her surprise, the band members took off quickly, leaving Luke to break down the equipment.
Taking a deep breath, she approached the platform.
“You guys sounded great tonight. Been playing together for a while?”
“Couple years.”
“So...I wanted to apologize for my father.”
Luke shot her an amused glance. “Overprotective?”
She’d have laughed out loud at the notion if it wasn’t so sad. “No, more like too much interference in my life.” She moved closer, silently high-fiving the fact that Luke wanted to engage in conversation. “We aren’t exactly close.”
He nodded. “No offense taken. I stopped worrying about what people think a long time ago.”
If only she could adopt the same mantra.
“My sister tells me you teach high school English.”
“I do.” He unzipped his case and gently laid the guitar inside. She admired people who took special care of their instruments. “Never thought I’d impact any kids, but it’s turned out to be one of the best experiences of my life.”
“Did you take over for Mrs. Trumbull?”
“No. She was gone before I arrived. She did leave a legacy behind.”
Cassie shuddered. “Of fear. I remember sweating out the Shakespeare semester. Her assignments were killer.”
Luke chuckled. “I sure hope my legacy isn’t that negative.”
“As long as you don’t pull your hair back in a severe bun, narrow your eyes at your students and make everyone uncomfortable, you should be fine.”
He patted the back of his head. “I never considered a new hairstyle. Maybe a man bun would up my cool factor and keep the kids in line.”
She laughed, delighted by his sense of humor. He didn’t need a bun to be any more good-looking in her eyes.
He snapped the latches on the case and faced her. “Did you do well on the Shakespeare assignment?”
She squinted, thinking back. “B, maybe? I have to say, she laid down a really good foundation. The subsequent years of Shakespeare weren’t so horrible.”
“Not a fan of the bard?”
“I can appreciate the work that went into writing his tales, but translating old English is like math. I’d rather not work that hard if I don’t have to.”
“You sound like the majority of my students.”
“Then let’s hope you make learning fun, not a session in terror.”
“I go over Shakespeare, but throw in other more contemporary works for my students to read.”
“Writing isn’t as easy as everyone thinks.”
“I’m sure my students would agree.” Taking hold of the handle, he lifted the case and stepped down from the platform. “It’s been nice talking to you.”
Cassie’s stomach dipped. She had to keep him interested. “Same here.” She glanced at his case. “You really know how to play.”
“Years of practice.”
“I didn’t get serious until I was in high school.”
He took a step back. “Well, I need to take off.”
By the shuddered look in his eyes, she could tell he’d checked out of the conversation. Drat. She’d lost him.
“Well, I’ll be in town awhile longer. Maybe we’ll run into each other.”
“Anything is possible.”
“I’d love to talk to you about your songwriting days. You’ve been—”
He held his hand up “Let me stop you right there.”
She blinked. His sudden displeasure indicated she’d gone too far.
“I’m not going to talk about music careers, songwriting or whatever you have your mind set on.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t. I just need you to know I’m not available for whatever it is you want.”
Her heart sank as he turned and crossed the room. Good night to you, too, Luke Hastings.
* * *
LUKE STEPPED INTO the mild spring night, his face hot, his chest tight. Upset? Him? Right, not much. Slowly, he eased the pressure of the fist holding the guitar case handle, letting his breath out in slow degrees.
He stopped. Shook out his arms. Tilted his head back.
The dark sky was clear, stars twinkled above him. Cicadas buzzed, hidden beyond the empty golf course. A lonely frog belched nearby. The air, still warm even after the sun had set a few hours ago, held a hint of something sweet, like flowers. In the distance, the sprinkler system sputtered and hissed as it turned on.
All in all, a beautiful night to just let go and not think at all.
If only he could oblige.
He’d gone at least six months without the anger and despair building up. All it had taken this time was an attractive woman with expectation in her eyes to reduce him to this state.
It was clear Cassie wanted something from him. She’d floundered getting to the point, but once she admitted it was to talk shop, he couldn’t handle it. He didn’t have it in him to go back in time, to the place where another woman selfishly bent on fulfilling her dreams had squashed his.
He hated that he wasn’t stronger. But the truth was as clear as the night sky. He hadn’t forgiven Tracy. Was afraid he never could.
He continued walking to his black two-door BMW, his footsteps steady against the pavement. It had been two years since Tracy’s betrayal. Shouldn’t he be over it by now?
Get a clue, Hastings. People will always let you down.
As he unlocked the trunk and laid the guitar case inside, he wondered once again for the millionth time, what was wrong with him. Whoever said time heals all wounds hadn’t been cheated on by an ex-wife.
