Gabe
Page 18
But as I slide behind the wheel of my car, Cole’s words echo around my head.
No one is ever really out of the life.
Chapter five
SASHA
Things have a way of looking different in the morning. So when I wake up on Saturday, I decide it's time to get proactive. Ever since my epic fail on national television, I've been in survival mode. Planning the grand opening of the club has kept my mind off of things but now that there might not be a club, it's time to stop licking my wounds and get serious. I need to find a source of funding fast.
Gabe's words come back to me. I know that he's trouble but he was right about one thing. I can't allow each failure to take me out of the game. Failing at things is a side effect of living life. Maybe singing isn't going to be my career and that hurts, but there are so many other dreams that I have. Opening this club will be a manifestation of a dream I've had ever since I was a kid.
After a quick shower, I review my schedule for the day. After the blistering safety lecture I got from Eli when he found out that I was conducting music lessons from home, I've stopped scheduling new students. Even though I know he's right, I can't help but resent the intrusion. I take a deep breath. If all goes right, I'll be scheduling new students soon in my beautiful new space.
Thoughts of business remind me of him. I press a hand over my suddenly racing heart, remembering that kiss. Despite his insistence on leaving me sexually frustrated, his advice last night was exactly what I needed. And even though it had been hard to hear in the moment, I actually appreciate his restraint. I don't really want to get involved with anyone right now; I'd just lost my head in the moment. What girl wouldn't with a kiss like that?
Just because I've sworn off men momentarily doesn't mean I'm dead. Gabe Marshall is exactly the type I usually fall for. Beautiful. Smug.
Trouble.
I look at myself in the mirror. "The type of trouble you don't need right now."
But damn, he was a good kisser.
Even though it's empty, I decide to spend the day at the club. There's not much I can do without fixtures but just being in the space will inspire me as I go over my massive to-do list for the opening. Plus, Gabe's advice about cutting costs makes me think. A cleaning crew is scheduled to come this week but maybe that's something I can cut. I need to go to the space and see how bad it is. Plus I just want to see it again.
There's also the added benefit of grabbing breakfast on the way. My handbag is over my arm when I hear the knock.
I pull open the door, expecting to see my landlady. She sometimes asks me to run errands for her on the weekends. But it's not Mrs. Hanes. My father is standing at the porch railing looking down to the yard.
"Daddy? What are you doing here?"
My father has only been to my place a few times. The day I moved in and to bring me some homemade soup from my mom when I wasn't feeling well. I visit my parents often enough that he doesn't need to.
He pulls me into a hug. "May I come in?"
"Of course. I'm sorry, I was just surprised." I step back so he can come in.
He shrugs out of his coat and folds it over his arm. I take it from him gently. "What brings you here so early?"
He looks around curiously, taking in the bright red color I painted on the walls a few months ago. I've always enjoyed what my dad calls a "lively" sense of style.
"I had to come. It's about the club." He takes a deep breath and then sits on the couch. He pats the cushion next to him so I put his coat down on the armchair and sit next to him.
"Dad, I know what this is about. Mom made it pretty clear that she's the one who didn't want to invest in the club anymore. I'm not angry at you."
My father has always been my biggest fan. I'm completely unashamed to be a daddy's girl. I know that my mom has tried to be supportive of my dreams but it's harder for her because she honestly doesn't understand them. Daddy has always shared my passion for music. He's the one who introduced me to jazz in the first place. When I was growing up, names like Gillespie, Coltrane and Ellington were as familiar to me as any of my relatives.
"When I figured out what they were doing, I had to get out of there before I said something I'd regret. Your mother and I argued and if there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's to avoid talking when you're angry."
I pat his hand. "This isn't your battle, Dad. I don't want you and Mom fighting over me."
He turns and looks at me for a long moment. "I never told you this but I was supposed to be a partner in the club with Tommy when it first opened."
Tommy Billings, or Uncle Tommy as I'd always known him, was my dad's best friend from high school. He features heavily in all the stories my dad tells about the old days.
"You were? I didn't know that. All this time you've talked about how much you wished you'd had your own club. What happened?"
"Charlie happened."
The story of how my father got swindled out of his life savings by a friend has practically shaped my childhood. My parents almost went bankrupt and my mother had to take on odd jobs to help them get by.
Silence settles between us and I don't attempt to break it with questions. My dad tells stories in his own time and you can't rush him along.
"When Tommy first told me he wanted to open a club, I was excited. He had a friend who was ready to go in with us. All we needed was two thousand dollars each. It doesn't sound like much now but back in those times, it was all of my savings. If things had gone wrong, I would have been bankrupt. Then my friend Charlie told me I could double my money by investing in this new company. He told me he'd done it and so had a few of our other friends."
No one is ever really out of the life.
Chapter five
SASHA
Things have a way of looking different in the morning. So when I wake up on Saturday, I decide it's time to get proactive. Ever since my epic fail on national television, I've been in survival mode. Planning the grand opening of the club has kept my mind off of things but now that there might not be a club, it's time to stop licking my wounds and get serious. I need to find a source of funding fast.
Gabe's words come back to me. I know that he's trouble but he was right about one thing. I can't allow each failure to take me out of the game. Failing at things is a side effect of living life. Maybe singing isn't going to be my career and that hurts, but there are so many other dreams that I have. Opening this club will be a manifestation of a dream I've had ever since I was a kid.
After a quick shower, I review my schedule for the day. After the blistering safety lecture I got from Eli when he found out that I was conducting music lessons from home, I've stopped scheduling new students. Even though I know he's right, I can't help but resent the intrusion. I take a deep breath. If all goes right, I'll be scheduling new students soon in my beautiful new space.
Thoughts of business remind me of him. I press a hand over my suddenly racing heart, remembering that kiss. Despite his insistence on leaving me sexually frustrated, his advice last night was exactly what I needed. And even though it had been hard to hear in the moment, I actually appreciate his restraint. I don't really want to get involved with anyone right now; I'd just lost my head in the moment. What girl wouldn't with a kiss like that?
Just because I've sworn off men momentarily doesn't mean I'm dead. Gabe Marshall is exactly the type I usually fall for. Beautiful. Smug.
Trouble.
I look at myself in the mirror. "The type of trouble you don't need right now."
But damn, he was a good kisser.
Even though it's empty, I decide to spend the day at the club. There's not much I can do without fixtures but just being in the space will inspire me as I go over my massive to-do list for the opening. Plus, Gabe's advice about cutting costs makes me think. A cleaning crew is scheduled to come this week but maybe that's something I can cut. I need to go to the space and see how bad it is. Plus I just want to see it again.
There's also the added benefit of grabbing breakfast on the way. My handbag is over my arm when I hear the knock.
I pull open the door, expecting to see my landlady. She sometimes asks me to run errands for her on the weekends. But it's not Mrs. Hanes. My father is standing at the porch railing looking down to the yard.
"Daddy? What are you doing here?"
My father has only been to my place a few times. The day I moved in and to bring me some homemade soup from my mom when I wasn't feeling well. I visit my parents often enough that he doesn't need to.
He pulls me into a hug. "May I come in?"
"Of course. I'm sorry, I was just surprised." I step back so he can come in.
He shrugs out of his coat and folds it over his arm. I take it from him gently. "What brings you here so early?"
He looks around curiously, taking in the bright red color I painted on the walls a few months ago. I've always enjoyed what my dad calls a "lively" sense of style.
"I had to come. It's about the club." He takes a deep breath and then sits on the couch. He pats the cushion next to him so I put his coat down on the armchair and sit next to him.
"Dad, I know what this is about. Mom made it pretty clear that she's the one who didn't want to invest in the club anymore. I'm not angry at you."
My father has always been my biggest fan. I'm completely unashamed to be a daddy's girl. I know that my mom has tried to be supportive of my dreams but it's harder for her because she honestly doesn't understand them. Daddy has always shared my passion for music. He's the one who introduced me to jazz in the first place. When I was growing up, names like Gillespie, Coltrane and Ellington were as familiar to me as any of my relatives.
"When I figured out what they were doing, I had to get out of there before I said something I'd regret. Your mother and I argued and if there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's to avoid talking when you're angry."
I pat his hand. "This isn't your battle, Dad. I don't want you and Mom fighting over me."
He turns and looks at me for a long moment. "I never told you this but I was supposed to be a partner in the club with Tommy when it first opened."
Tommy Billings, or Uncle Tommy as I'd always known him, was my dad's best friend from high school. He features heavily in all the stories my dad tells about the old days.
"You were? I didn't know that. All this time you've talked about how much you wished you'd had your own club. What happened?"
"Charlie happened."
The story of how my father got swindled out of his life savings by a friend has practically shaped my childhood. My parents almost went bankrupt and my mother had to take on odd jobs to help them get by.
Silence settles between us and I don't attempt to break it with questions. My dad tells stories in his own time and you can't rush him along.
"When Tommy first told me he wanted to open a club, I was excited. He had a friend who was ready to go in with us. All we needed was two thousand dollars each. It doesn't sound like much now but back in those times, it was all of my savings. If things had gone wrong, I would have been bankrupt. Then my friend Charlie told me I could double my money by investing in this new company. He told me he'd done it and so had a few of our other friends."
