Page 18 of To Believe In You
“Lakeshore is nothing like Paris.” The architecture was quaint, not magnificent, the art scene more preoccupied with lighthouses and lakes than the masters of old, and the bear claws at the local bakery wouldn’t stand a chance against those macarons.
Matt smirked. “You’re going to be stressed, and I’m going to have fun.”
Oh. She crossed her arms and tried to let the words bounce off, but his promise to have fun stuck like a briar.
“You’ve got a choice. Relax or”—he waved his fingers toward her—“keep your shoulders hunched up and give yourself tension headaches.”
She dropped her shoulders, correcting her posture before realizing the motion confirmed she’d been as tense as he’d suggested.
He angled one foot for the sidewalk, but he focused on her again. “Another similarity. Are you sure you’re not lost?”
“I know exactly where I am.” Literally and figuratively.
He shrugged one shoulder, as if the answer didn’t matter to him, then shoved his hands into his pockets and set off down the sidewalk.
5
Matt had watched a full array of emotions play across Lina’s face today.
A full array of the negative ones anyway.
As he rode home with Tim following his first day of training at Key of Hope, he replayed the different expressions. She’d shown no signs of joy, relief, or contentedness. About the only time her forehead hadn’t been marked with a line signaling frustration or sadness had been for the split second after he’d hurdled the back of the bench.
Not all of the negativity had been his fault. He’d walked by her, sitting there among the flowers and caught up in a tense phone call. He hadn’t paused to listen in, but he had heard the worddad.
Hard to believe such a rule follower was on poor terms with her parents, but all families had problems. After allowing a few minutes for them to work out their differences, he’d circled back to talk to her. Waiting for a better moment, like when she hadn’t just had a fight with her father, might’ve brought a better result.
Why did he care so much what Lina thought of him?
Saving him from analyzing the question too closely, Tim pulled into a parking lot. The architect who’d paired the modern siding and windows with exposed cedar columns probably intended to lend a northwoods-luxury-vacation feel to the condominium complex. Instead, the result was pretentious.
Matt got out and retrieved his oversized duffle from the trunk. He had meant to contribute to rent, but whatever he could afford would be laughable in comparison to the full bill for a new build on lakefront property. “How long are you staying in Lakeshore?”
Tim locked the vehicle and started for the door. “I’ll go back to California when the band goes to the studio so I can get Issy settled at boarding school.”
Tim would leave in a week or so? Matt couldn’t begrudge him the time with his daughter, but he hadn’t planned to be on his own for lodging so soon.
As he followed Tim inside, he stepped onto a ceramic floor made to imitate hardwood. A counter separated the kitchen from the living room, which was furnished with neutral-colored couches and chairs. Steps led to a loft. The bathroom and the other two bedrooms must’ve been down the hall. Matt wasn’t made of money, but this place was.
“How much is rent?”
“I’m not charging you.”
“But when you leave—”
“I’m coming back. My lease goes through the end of the year, so I’m paying for it either way.”
Matt surveyed the space again. Tim had already assigned him the loft. Maybe, since the room only had three walls, he didn’t have to feel indebted. Besides, Tim was the one who’d wanted him there. He started for the stairs. “You’re not going to change your mind when I won’t reconsider Awestruck, are you? Because I owe enough people money without you coming after me for half the rent.”
“Who do you owe money to?”
Matt thudded up the stairs and away from answering. Aside from the missing wall, the loft was homey. The bed took up a third of the space, and a room divider lent more privacy in the far corner. He stowed his bag between the dresser and desk. Over the railing and about fifty feet beyond the rear-facing windows of the condo, Lake Superior rippled and waved, a piece of ever-changing art.
His phone beeped. A couple of foamy wave crests rose and faded in the water as he drew the device from his pocket.
Krissy had texted.How was your first day?
Lina wasn’t happy to see me.Since he had told his sister about the job offer and the woman who’d come to extend it, Krissy ought to remember the name.
