Page 31 of That Reunited Feeling

“It’s okay.” I take out my earbuds. “We’re just arranging a get-together with all of us. Haven’t seen them since I got here.”

I saw Maggie and Jim’s three sons, Max, Connor, and Elliot, and my brother, Walker, while I was here for the wedding in December, but it was a short trip and we didn’t have much time to catch up.

“Why do you want to know if I’m busy Saturday?” I set the phone and earbuds on the arm of the chair. “Asking me on a date?” I add on impulse and instantly want to punch myself in the head. That joke will go down like a lead balloon.

Sure enough, she stops in her tracks halfway toward me and shoves her hands into her back pockets, an action that thrusts her chest forward and makes me struggle to keep my eyes on her face.

“Not funny.”

Fair point.

Interestingly, however, she doesn’t leave.

Must try harder to be professional. “Is there a problem with the résumés?”

“The what? Oh, no. I set them aside for a minute to focus on a different project.”

A different project? I’ve given her only one so far—didn’t want to overwhelm her straight away.

“Well, if you did have plans for Saturday,” she continues, “cancel them.”

“You can be very commanding.”

“You’ll be pleased why,” she says.

“What do you have in mind?”

“You’re going to see Divine Justice.”

“I thought the gig I missed was the last one in Boston for a while.”

“It was. But they’re playing in Portsmouth, which is closer and less traffic, easier to park and everything.”

Impressive. “Nice work.”

“And I’ve lined up a couple other bands for you to see too.”

If anyone else had arranged for me to see a bunch of unknowns, I’d make sure to wriggle out of it. This is my territory, something I research myself. Other people’s taste is usually shit. But this isn’t anyone else, it’s Hannah, so…

“Fantastic. I like the initiative.”

And I do. I like it very much. Along with how much I like the dimple that accompanies her proud smile.

“Who are they?”

“Not telling you,” she says. “I want you to see them cold without looking them up first. I’ll email you the locations when you get there.”

And suddenly there’s no one in the world I want to check out new bands with more than Hannah.

Butisit sudden?

Hasn’t she always been at the back of my mind, nodding her head or screwing up her face whenever I’ve seen a new artist? Whether I was in a grimy pub in the north of Scotland or a colorful, sunny square in Rio?

I’m going to risk it. “I have a better idea.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asks as if I’m challenging her organizational abilities. “What?”

“Youshowme where they are.”

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