Page 48 of Shattered Chords

He was charming even when he was being ridiculous and pushy, and I understood why women threw themselves at him. I just prayed I wouldn’t become one of those women.

Later that evening after we returned to my place, I was too restless to stay still. I paced around my living room while Harper lounged on my couch, one leg swung over the other, arms crossed.

“It’s like I’m not myself when he’s around,” I said in a hushed voice to ensure Ally wouldn’t hear me.

As soon as we’d pulled into the driveway, she’d climbed out of the car and retreated into her room. She’d skipped her guitar practice tonight and after a day spent around roaring vehicles and shouting people, the silence that filled the house seemed almost unnatural.

Harper uncrossed his arms and dipped both hands into his hair to push it away from his forehead. Just like me, he was in desperate need of a shower, but my crisis was currently derailing us both.

I had to get rid of my frustration over Dante Martinez, and Harper happily lent his ear.

“You have to admit, the man can be very persuasive,” he said calmly, leaning forward to grab his lemonade from the coffee table.

I stopped pacing and glared at him. “That’s not helping. You. Taking his side.”

“I’m not taking anyone’s side, sweets.” Harper shrugged, then took a small sip of his drink and placed the glass back down.

“You just sat there and watched him play me.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Yes, it was.”

There was a long pause.

I grabbed at my T-shirt to peel it away from my sticky chest and fanned myself with my palm. This heat was unbearable. I’d forgotten to turn on the AC today before we left, and now the house felt hotter and stuffier than a sauna. It was an older building with thick walls that took a while to cool down. My electric bills in the summer were usually so high, I was scared to look at them.

“You know what you need?” Harper murmured, tapping his chin with his index finger.

“What?”

“To get laid,” he mouthed, a grin splitting his face.

“Don’t say stuff like that with my daughter in the next room,” I fumed softly and resumed pacing, my gaze darting toward the hallway. The lack of music unnerved me. Quiet Ally was always up-to-something Ally.

“I’m pretty sure your daughter has better things to do than eavesdrop on her abstinent mother and her single gay godfather.”

“You don’t make us sound like much fun.” I flung my hands in the air, suddenly feeling very old and tired.

“Right now, I don’t want to be fun.” Harper motioned at his ruined khakis. “I’ve been used and abused for over ten hours today. I have my limits, you know.”

“So do I, and men with shady pasts don’t fall within those limits.”

“I really think you should give the guy a chance.”

I pinned my friend with a deadly stare.

In turn, he reached for his glass again. “He has a point. He can open up a lot of doors for Ally if she continues to work hard. Honestly, I’m trying to look at this whole situation objectively.”

“Right.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not the one who’s going to have a stranger visit your place weekly.”

“Oh, sweets.” Harper batted his lashes. “We’re not talking about a series of one-night-stands here. We’re talking about guitar lessons... With a chaperone.”

Suddenly, there was a disturbance down the hall. A door slammed. Outside, a car approached, its headlights streaking across the living room windows for a brief second.

Ally emerged, dressed and showered, heavy eyeshadow, lipstick so dark, it could have been black for all I knew and made my daughter look like she’d been eating charcoal and drinking blood.

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” she informed us on her way out, all business.

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