professional.”
As if on cue, Jack comes bounding up the aisle and plops into the seat next to me wearing his big, goofy Jack grin. “Did you miss me?”
We all start laughing.
The old lady in front of us turns back and gives Jack the evil eye.
Sam notices and grabs her purse. “Better calm this kid down.”
She pulls out a giant-sized Snickers and passes it to Jack. “Oh baby, you are beautiful,” he says taking it.
He eats and settles into the chair, happy as a clam. He starts unconsciously loosening his tie. I reach over to tighten it back up for him.
“I hate these things,” he complains. “This is why I need to just work from home or something.”
“So you can wear your pajamas all day?” I ask.
“Hell no. I’ll be going commando, baby.”
The lady in front of us purses her lips, clearly disapproving of our conversation. I can’t help but laugh.
Finished with Jack’s tie, but before I remove my hands from the knot, my eyes flit to the seats across the auditorium from us. I freeze.
There’s Professor Brooks. He’s staring right at me, a serious expression on his face. He looks down immediately and I sit back in my seat, facing forward.
My heart’s pounding. I grip my beaded clutch with both hands, the little beads cutting into my skin.
Turning my head as little as possible, I look back toward Professor Brooks. My chest heats up as I take him in with hungry eyes. He’s looking particularly classy and yummy in his dark suit coat and red tie. His face is turned in my direction, but he’s talking to the woman sitting next to him.
She is, I hate to report, an absolutely stunning blonde wearing a stunning emerald gown and giving him a positively stunning smile. Bitch.
He either said something hilarious or she’s into him enough that she thinks anything he says is hilarious, for she throws her gorgeous head back and gives what I imagine to be a perfectly melodious laugh.
He’s smiling at her, but his eyes dart in my direction, catching me watching him. I look forward, then down to my purse, then over to Jack’s lap. He’s smoothing out his empty Snickers wrapper on his knee and making entirely too much noise.
The lady in front of us lets out a passive-aggressive sigh loud enough for all of us to hear.
“Give me that,” I say, snatching it out of his hand and tucking it inside my purse.
“Sor- ry ,” he says. He leans closer to me. “Got any more?”
I glance at his little boy grin and take a deep breath, settling myself. It’s not Jack’s fault. “Sorry,” I say.
He furrows his brow slightly but he’s still grinning. “Sorry for what, sweetheart?” He pats my knee. “I think I can make it through without more snacks.”
He winks and I smile at him.
I’m trying very hard not to look where I know I shouldn’t be looking, but eventually I give in. Shane Brooks is smiling at the stunning blonde again when the lights go down.
We all clap with the audience as the curtain goes up. I keep my eyes fixed on the first group of musicians, a string quartet, and somehow manage to get all the way through their piece before looking at Professor Brooks again.
I’m surprised to find him looking at me too, but he glances away as soon as our eyes meet.
I look down at my hands, clutching my purse. Was he watching me? I take a slow, measured breath.
I steal another glance. This time his eyes are on the musician on stage—a violinist now—but it’s not long before his eyes swing back to mine. He looks down and away, but I don’t.
My skin starts to tingle. He’s watching me too. I know it.
The audience is clapping again and I clap with them, my heart pounding my chest.
My excitement turns to agony, however, when we go through four more numbers without Professor Brooks looking at me once. Was I imagining things? Maybe he had noticed me watching him and kept checking to see if I’d stopped. Maybe he was purposely not looking at me now as a way to make a point. And after all,
As if on cue, Jack comes bounding up the aisle and plops into the seat next to me wearing his big, goofy Jack grin. “Did you miss me?”
We all start laughing.
The old lady in front of us turns back and gives Jack the evil eye.
Sam notices and grabs her purse. “Better calm this kid down.”
She pulls out a giant-sized Snickers and passes it to Jack. “Oh baby, you are beautiful,” he says taking it.
He eats and settles into the chair, happy as a clam. He starts unconsciously loosening his tie. I reach over to tighten it back up for him.
“I hate these things,” he complains. “This is why I need to just work from home or something.”
“So you can wear your pajamas all day?” I ask.
“Hell no. I’ll be going commando, baby.”
The lady in front of us purses her lips, clearly disapproving of our conversation. I can’t help but laugh.
Finished with Jack’s tie, but before I remove my hands from the knot, my eyes flit to the seats across the auditorium from us. I freeze.
There’s Professor Brooks. He’s staring right at me, a serious expression on his face. He looks down immediately and I sit back in my seat, facing forward.
My heart’s pounding. I grip my beaded clutch with both hands, the little beads cutting into my skin.
Turning my head as little as possible, I look back toward Professor Brooks. My chest heats up as I take him in with hungry eyes. He’s looking particularly classy and yummy in his dark suit coat and red tie. His face is turned in my direction, but he’s talking to the woman sitting next to him.
She is, I hate to report, an absolutely stunning blonde wearing a stunning emerald gown and giving him a positively stunning smile. Bitch.
He either said something hilarious or she’s into him enough that she thinks anything he says is hilarious, for she throws her gorgeous head back and gives what I imagine to be a perfectly melodious laugh.
He’s smiling at her, but his eyes dart in my direction, catching me watching him. I look forward, then down to my purse, then over to Jack’s lap. He’s smoothing out his empty Snickers wrapper on his knee and making entirely too much noise.
The lady in front of us lets out a passive-aggressive sigh loud enough for all of us to hear.
“Give me that,” I say, snatching it out of his hand and tucking it inside my purse.
“Sor- ry ,” he says. He leans closer to me. “Got any more?”
I glance at his little boy grin and take a deep breath, settling myself. It’s not Jack’s fault. “Sorry,” I say.
He furrows his brow slightly but he’s still grinning. “Sorry for what, sweetheart?” He pats my knee. “I think I can make it through without more snacks.”
He winks and I smile at him.
I’m trying very hard not to look where I know I shouldn’t be looking, but eventually I give in. Shane Brooks is smiling at the stunning blonde again when the lights go down.
We all clap with the audience as the curtain goes up. I keep my eyes fixed on the first group of musicians, a string quartet, and somehow manage to get all the way through their piece before looking at Professor Brooks again.
I’m surprised to find him looking at me too, but he glances away as soon as our eyes meet.
I look down at my hands, clutching my purse. Was he watching me? I take a slow, measured breath.
I steal another glance. This time his eyes are on the musician on stage—a violinist now—but it’s not long before his eyes swing back to mine. He looks down and away, but I don’t.
My skin starts to tingle. He’s watching me too. I know it.
The audience is clapping again and I clap with them, my heart pounding my chest.
My excitement turns to agony, however, when we go through four more numbers without Professor Brooks looking at me once. Was I imagining things? Maybe he had noticed me watching him and kept checking to see if I’d stopped. Maybe he was purposely not looking at me now as a way to make a point. And after all,
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