Page 60 of Mountain Bean Dream
“Molly?” The conductor’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts.
I shook my head, offering a tight smile. “I’m not signing.”
His brows furrowed, but he nodded. “Understood. Just let me know if you change your mind.”
As he moved on, I exhaled, the tension in my chest easing slightly.
The downbeat came, and I fought to keep my posture steady. My fingers flew—too fast—rushing notes that begged forcontrol. My right hand cramped from overcompensating, and my breathing came in shallow bursts as I struggled to maintain the embouchure.
“Oh, beans!” I hissed under my breath when the flute dipped, nearly slipping from my grip. A wrong note followed, drawing a dissonant groan from the trumpet section.
“Sorry!” I called out, heat rushing to my cheeks.
“You’re trying too hard,” Amy whispered from her seat. “Relax a bit!”
Easy for her to say. My vision swam slightly, but I blinked it away and refocused. Determination swelled in me, even as doubt nipped at the edges. I wasn’t quitting. Not for a stupid swollen elbow, not for anyone. I needed to prove, more to myself than the others, that I could do this.
This was going to hurt. A lot.
But I’d make it happen. I needed to. I’d quit too many other things in my life—my job, my cushy life, my family—this had to be something that I stuck to.
“One more time,” I muttered as the conductor stopped the piece for corrections. My voice cracked, but soft enough only I could hear. The dull pain in my arm wasn’t going anywhere, but then again, neither was I.
Chapter Nineteen
Feeling a little lonely, I wandered down the stretch of motel rooms to the office. Merlot was still in the parking lot, so I assumed Jeremy was still around. The bells sounded overhead, and a voice called out.
“Just a minute.” Down the back steps, Jeremy walked quickly, almost jumping to the bottom. “Good morning, Molly.”
“Hey.”
“Everything okay?”
“Of course.” I spied the basket of fresh fruit and helped myself to a shiny red apple. Somehow, he always managed to have the best pickings. “I was wondering…” My words paused in the back of my throat. Sharing my feelings was something I was still getting used to. “I’m feeling…”
Jeremy dashed around the counter, the eaglets on his hoodie bouncing with each step. “You okay?”
My focus stayed on the industrial carpet, following the patterns until they stopped at the base of his work boots. “Yeah. I’m just lonely. Can I come with you to the Coffee Loft this morning? You don’t have to talk with me, you can just sit and work on your crossword puzzle. I can meander around town while you’re at the school.” My words tripped over themselves as my gaze roamed up over his jeans, his hoodie, and settled on the concern ripe on his face.
Even after two years, I still hadn’t gotten used to the whole loneliness part. In my ‘before’ life, there were always events to attend, network parties, hob-nobbing get-togethers. You wanted a particular part, you had to be out there, showing off your worthiness. You had to be able to carry the load, which was why I was never lead actress material. It wasn’t a strength I owned. Although I adored Jasper, sometimes I craved the noiseof gatherings and being surrounded by people. Even if I didn’t have anything in common with them. Lately, that craving had shifted, and I found myself wanting more of Jeremy, of his witty banter and genuine warmth.
“Aw, you have a little cabin fever, do you?” His voice was light, teasing, but there was something softer in the way his eyes searched mine—like he was looking for something I wasn’t ready to admit.
“What? No.” But I looked up into the sincerest eyes I’ve ever had the pleasure of gazing into. “Maybe.” The way his eyes softened when he looked at me was a quiet reassurance I hadn’t known I needed. It was dangerous how much I wanted to keep seeing that look.
He patted me on the shoulder. “Of course, you can come with me, and I’m not going to ignore you either. I enjoy your company.”
His words shouldn’t have mattered so much, but they did. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had said something like that to me and actually meant it. Or maybe I just wanted him to mean it more than I cared to admit. “You do?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” He leaned against the desk and propped his left foot over his right.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. It was always amazing when someone wanted to spend time with me, and this was especially new because Jeremy only knew the Molly me. He had no idea about who I used to be before I moved here. It was refreshing but still surprising. “Maybe you’re still in your role?”
“And what role would that be?”
“The whole fake boyfriend for the fundraiser event?” Part of me wanted to believe he wasn’t just playing along—that his concern wasn’t an act. But how could I be sure when pretending was part of the deal?
“Nah, it’s still daytime so I’m the fixologist. I’m off thefake boyfriend clock until four.”