Page 7 of Surviving the Break
I nodded, thrilled by the idea of seeing him again. The girl, Debbie, tugged him away, and I stood there feeling oddly bereft.
3
MAX
“Why do you have to go?” Hayden whined, plucking at the strands of grass near his feet. We were by our pond sitting cross-legged, our knees touching.
“It’s only for two weeks,” I assured him. I was going to visit my Aunt Lula in Chadwick, something I did every summer, but this was only our second summer as friends. Hayden wasn’t aware of the routine. I’d already had my visit by the time we’d met at camp last year. My words didn’t help, and he continued to sulk, a small hill of plucked grass building in the spot between his crossed legs. I reached behind my neck to remove my chain. That grabbed his attention.
“What are you doing?” he asked, more alert.
“I’m giving you my pearl to hold until I get back.” It was black, but danced with the colors of the rainbow whenever the sunlight hit it. I’d gotten it from Uncle Bo’s pearl farm. My pride and joy, and Hayden knew it.
“You really are coming back!” We got to our knees, and he turned around so I could secure it around his neck. He faced me again, gazing down at it with wonder. “As long as I have this, I know you’ll always be back, and we’ll always be together.”
TAKINGthe stairs two at a time, I entered the building and could already hear my class making a ruckus from down the hall. “Who’s ready to make something?” I rubbed my hands together, stepping into the room.
“Meeee!” a number of them yelled.
The kids' ages ranged from eight to sixteen, which made it difficult to find one project that met all their skill sets and interests, so we typically had more than one thing going at a time. I worked the class like a job site; we had a foreman who was responsible for overseeing the entirety of the project from start to finish by doing walkthroughs as everyone worked their tasks and ensured things were going smoothly, and I maintained charge of the heavy tool stations. No one would be losing a finger on my watch. Everyone scrambled to take their seats, and I headed toward the front of the room. “Today, we’re all working on the same thing.” We’d previously agreed to make jewelry boxes for Mother’s Day. “Who’s the foreman today?” Everyone raised their hands, and I scanned for someone who hadn’t had a chance. “Latoya, you’re the star of the show today.” She was the oldest in the class. I handed her the hardhat I kept in the desk drawer and the box of miniature levels the class would be using to confirm that wood squares were even. She settled the hat over her braids, then handled the distribution of supplies while I turned to the whiteboard to begin drawing up the 3D specs for the box.
“Looks like I’m just in time,” came an abrupt, familiar voice.
Halfway through drawing the images, my arm jerked, and a jagged red line squeaked across the whiteboard. I turned toward the figure leaning against the door frame along with the rest of the class. Capping the marker, I smiled and said,“Mr. Ash.”His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I thought you’d forgotten about us.” I hoped my comment came across innocently and not as I’d intended. Debbie, the polite police, wasn’t yelling my name, so I figured I’d succeeded. Our eyes met, and Ash tsked my bad behavior. Fooling an adult was harder than fooling an eight-year-old.
“Sorry, busy season at work.” He winked, playing along, and even that was sexy. For the second time since our reunion, I bit my tongue to control the spark of lust.
“Everyone, you remember Mr. Ash. Mr. Damon’s friend.” They all gave some variation of a hello.
“What do you do for work?” Solomon asked from the row closest to the door.
“I’m an obstetrician.” At Solomon’s blank expression, he said, “I deliver babies.”
“Wow,” the young ones said in unison.
“Do you mind if I sit in?” he asked.
“Not at all. We were getting ready to make jewelry boxes for Mother’s Day.” My eyes remained fixed on him as he unbuttoned and removed the gray blazer of his three-piece suit and turned to hang it on the coat rack by the door. With him facing away from me, I allowed my gaze to roam the length of him. Movement in my periphery brought my eyes around to Latoya, who sat giving me a knowing look. I ignored her and went back to my task at the board, keenly aware of the tapping of Ash’s hard-bottomed shoes as he worked his way to the front of the class. Right to the empty seat in front of my desk. Teacher’s pet. I mapped out the steps, then instructed my foreman to assist the younger ones with making straight lines on their slabs of plywood, using their angles, and then assisting them in cutting their grooves.
“Do you need help?” I stood over Ash’s shoulder, trying not to be amused as he shoved his sleeves up his forearms in frustration. He obviously prided himself on being competent. Plus, Justin might have mentioned how fast he’d moved up the ranks at the hospital. Holding the head of obstetrics title at age thirty. Not that I’d been asking.
“I’m as precise with a scalpel as a tightrope enthusiast, but drawing a straight line is apparently beyond my capabilities.” He tossed the pencil aside, doing a double take as he gazed up at me. “Are youlaughingat me?”
“Of course not.” I stood taller, and he squinted. “Here, let me help.” I motioned for him to face forward again before coming in close behind and setting the angle against his cherrywood, showing him the proper way to position it. Wrapping my right hand around his, I controlled the light, sure movements of the pencil as he marked the wooden surface. So close to him, there was no avoiding his scent. I inhaled deeply to pick up the notes of cedar and freshly cut oranges.God, his cologne smells good. It was the same one he wore the first night we met. The one that clung to his suit jacket and infiltrated every corner of my bedroom until I was forced to take it to the dry cleaner’s.
Ash twisted out of his seat and stood, putting us on equal ground. “I’m not wearing any cologne.”
Shit.I’d said that out loud. I swallowed when he graced me with a cocky grin—one meant to charm—that displayed his pearly white teeth, which matched his gray five o’clock shadow.
“Mr. Max!” Debbie shouted from across the room. “We’re ready for the table horse.”
I instructed everyone to form a single-file line in the tool area at the back. Ash managed to end up at the front of it. “Shouldn’t the children go first, Mr. Ash?” I asked, and he frowned.
“I’m the one at a disadvantage. I’ve never done this before.”
“Yeah, Mr. Max, let him go first.” That mocking tone came from my foreman.
“You’re fired,” I said, and they all snickered. “All right, come around and slip that side into the table clamp.”
