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“In this one, you’re opening a car door for her, still touching her,” Margaret said. “I don’t usually waste my time with social media, but my daughter alerted me. She’s a big fan of Theresa Rhodes, and she knows you’re her band’s director.”
He groaned. Placing his elbows on the table, Caleb buried his face in his hands. Shit. He couldn’t care less about social media, but this would upset Theresa. That would definitely throw sand into the gears of any budding relationship between them. “Where are they posted?”
Dillon snorted. “Everywhere.”
Just then, Saskia Quelleron walked in. Carlos Garcia appeared a few seconds after her, and then a server entered. The group was now complete, and greetings were exchanged.
“Let’s order before we start our meeting,” Carlos said. “I’m starving.”
“Good idea.” Caleb picked up the menu while Margaret filled the newcomers in on social media’s intrusive posts, without mentioning names for the sake of the server. Caleb kept his eyes on the menu even though he pretty much ordered the same thing every time they met here. He just needed a minute to recover. Dammit, even if he did decide to pursue something with Theresa, social media had already doomed his chances. Unless you can convince her to ignore social media altogether, the rascal on his left shoulder whispered.
Once everyone had placed their orders, and the server had left the room to get their beverages, Margaret’s gaze settled on him. “I’m guessing your request for an emergency meeting has something to do with what’s going on between you and Theresa Rhodes. Am I right?”
“Yes, but, other than friendship, there isn’t really anything going on between us right now.” He heaved a sigh. “I’m … conflicted.”
“Look, Cal. I’m going to be brutally honest with you.” Dillon, a large teddy bear of a man with a gruff voice, leaned forward and cut him a pointed look. Despite his size and voice, Dillon had a tender heart and a sensitive nature. Losing his beloved wife to ovarian cancer had devastated the big guy.
“Your vow never to get involved again as long as you live, yeah. I got where you were coming from at the time.” Dillon folded his arms in front of him. “That being said, I’ve never seen that decision as healthy or as a sustainable life choice.”
“Yeah. We took a vote, and we all agree with Dillon.” Carlos nodded. “We’ve all suffered loss and grieved. I’ll tell you true, bro, allowing yourself to love again, you appreciate things you took for granted before. It’s deep. Healing.”
Carlos, a mechanical engineer, had gotten married a year ago. His sister had agreed to be a surrogate for Carlos and his husband, and she’d recently given birth to their twin girls.
Still, the suggestion that Caleb had taken anything for granted had him clenching his jaw. He’d never taken Amy for granted. She’d been the center of his universe.
Or, was he romanticizing the past? His therapist had told him most widowers viewed the past through rose-colored glasses, and they’d discussed the issue in group many times. The little things—like the annoying habits their spouses had, or the fights over issues that never seemed to be resolved—melted away from their memories in their loved one’s absence.
“There are … obstacles. Theresa just signed her divorce papers last week, and she’s dealing with several issues at once. She’s vulnerable right now, and I don’t want to take advantage. She deserves time to heal without the complication of a relationship. Besides, I work for her.”
Their server returned with their beverages, and the conversation paused. Once the waiter left, and the door was once again closed, Caleb made the decision to describe some of what he viewed as obstacles.
“She grew up in an extremely dysfunctional and abusive family and went on to marry a jerk. Because of that, she doesn’t have close friends to support her. She’s in therapy right now, and I told her I wanted to be her friend—as in not a lover. I offered to help in any way I can.”
“Okay, and now things have changed. That happens, and as we all know, friendship is the bedrock of a good relationship.” Saskia shrugged. “Didn’t you and your wife work together? You two had a band, right?”
Saskia’s husband had struggled with mental illness his whole life, and because of that he’d refused to father children. One night, Saskia’s husband checked into a cheap motel and committed suicide. She too had remarried and now had a stepson and a daughter of her own with her new husband.
“Yes, but my wife and I started the band together. It’s not the same. Theresa is my employer.”
“Not exactly. Not in the same way that I’m an employee of the company I work for,” Dillon said. “As you explained it to us, you’re under contract with her. You’re the one who formed the band she sings with, and you direct and manage the entire operation. That’s not like you work for her. More like you’re self-employed, a service provider.”
“Yeah, but she pays me so I don’t see a big difference. She could sever that agreement at any time.”
“Employment issues aside, you want to be supportive while she goes through the process of healing without added complications. Am I right?” Margaret asked.
Like him, Margaret had lost her husband in a car accident. “Yes. My feelings for her … I don’t want to get in her way.” Did that sound like a bunch of excuses not to make a move? He stifled a groan.
Saskia pursed her lips for a second, like she always did when thinking something through. “How did working with your wife go for you two? Were you able to separate your professional and personal life?”
“Not really. The two were intertwined, and that worked well for us. Making music together is how we began. What are you getting at, Saskia?”
“Right, and making music is how you and Theresa began. If that fusion of work and life went well for you before, why couldn’t it go just as well this time around?” Saskia asked.
“If things don’t work out, I’d very likely have to quit, or she’d ask me to leave because things would be too awkward. That’s one of the reasons why I’m conflicted.” Caleb blew out a breath, his frustration mounting.
“Despite knowing better, I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s on my mind all the time. I have this need to be there for her. I want her in my life, and that has me in a twist.” In fact, the need to take care of Theresa, to shelter her from all hurts past and present, had taken center ring in the circus of his life.
“You’ve got it bad, and it’s complicated.” Carlos nodded. “We get it.”
