Chapter 8
Dylan all but hugged Tamale, his beloved Harley, hopped on, revved it up for a few seconds, before zipping off past Chloe Davenport’s parked rental car.
Could he successfully avoid her forever?
If only.
After working at the coffee shop, he’d walked home, showered, changed into a T-shirt and jeans, then convinced himself to make good on that promise made to Samantha.
It’s for a noble cause,he thought at least a dozen times.
In actuality, the man could’ve used an evening out. Other than the customers at Destiny’s Brew, he rarely had a chance to be around other people—a polar opposite of the life he knew in Boston, where a night out on the town, for him, came as normal as breathing.
Yet, that life was long gone, a flicker of a moment in time. Fortune’s Bay was his home now; and as he rode down Main Street, the ocean breeze skirting across his face, he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Six months ago he drove a two-door Lexus hybrid down Boston’s Main Street, his life full of swag, hustle, and bustle. Posed Photography Studio was doing better than ever, celebrity models starting to line up for a chance to sign on as their newest clients. He was content. Pleased with how fast life was moving. The money he was earning taking photos was like a dream come true since photography was his gifted passion. Not many people got to make a grandiose living doing something they loved; not nowadays anyway. He’d purchased, with cash, a condo in prestigious Beacon Hill—a surprise wedding gift he planned to reveal to Cynthia, post honeymoon. Then his world imploded, crumbled to the ground like dust in the wind. All of that, a mere purposely buried memory—ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
By the time he rolled into Wilde Pirate’s parking lot, he was lucky to find a place to park his bike.
“Bro man,” called Samantha from the back end of the popular pub when Dylan barely walked through the doors. A few minutes past 5 p.m. and the place was already jam-packed.
Squeezing past crowds of presumably teachers, the majority of them tossing back Wilde Pirate’s handcrafted beers, Dylan made his way to his sister, who was standing by the stage, laughing it up with Liam and a few other guys.
“You made it.” Samantha’s lopsided grin could have been the effect of her being happy to see him, yet he quickly surmised it was due to the pink ale she polished off.
“Yep, I’m here. Along with the entire town, it seems?”
Liam approached, gave Dylan the handshake-man-hug-thing, then babbled over the crowd’s voices, “Yeah, I kind of posted fliers all over town before and after school. Tonight’s the last night we can fundraise, so, go big or go home, you know? Thanks for coming; it means a lot.”
“No worries, man. I know how important a trip to Disney World is. Heck”—he scoffed, rubbing the stubble on his chin—“I could use a trip to see Mickey and Minnie myself.”
They all chuckled because, well, who doesn’t appreciate Mickey and Minnie Mouse? The seemingly ageless happy couple.
Samantha lifted her chin in the direction of three rectangular tables. “All of those are reserved for our group, so make yourself comfortable—sit wherever you’d like. I saw a waitress making her rounds; she should be back to get your order soon.”
And when the waitress asked, Dylan ordered their signature Wilde Burger, potato crisps, and handcrafted beer that was delivered to him almost instantly. “I’ll come back with your burger and crisps once they’re ready.” The waitress winked before she skirted away to drop off other orders.
Tipping the bottle up, he sipped as he sat back and observed. Tables began to fill up, food was delivered, more drinks served, the ambiance growing louder by the second. A sense of awkwardness hovered over Dylan like a tropical storm cloud. It felt strange sitting alone, no one to enjoy the evening with. Every one of the tables was occupied—couples, friends, colleagues—all engrossed in one another, even the two sets of couples sitting at the table across from his. Samantha and Liam were busy, serving as the welcoming committee; they’d likely be tied up for the majority of the night.
A plan formulated in his head.I’ll just slip out unnoticed after I eat.
It was a good plan as long as he stuck with it and frankly, he knew he hadn’t been an expert at sticking to plans lately.
The waitress dropped off his plate of food, along with another cold one, and to his surprise, Liam and Samantha joined his table, both so glossy-eyed it was hard for Dylan to keep a straight face.
“Bro man, you have to promise me you’ll sing at least one song,” Samantha begged, bottom lip puckered out.
Swallowing his bite of food, Dylan fired back, “Uh, no. But you go right ahead, Sis.” He laughed low down in his throat. Maybe he’d stay a while. Samantha up on stage making a fool of herself would be worth it.
“We’re totally gonna belt it out to that song from Grease. You know, the one John and Olivia sang at the carnival?” Liam took another swig of beer, his eyes now glowing.
“Yep. I’ve even got that spicy outfit she wore, black hot pants, high heels, curly-haired wig and everything.” Samantha beamed, elbows fixed to the table, chin propped in her hand.
Do people really go all out for karaoke, or was this just a cute Samantha and Liam couple thing?
“Several teachers will be in costume. Rumor has it, a few of the guys will be dressing up, doing a song from The Village People,” Liam added.
They take this stuff seriously.
“Well, in that case, I definitely won’t bother. I didn’t bring a costume.” The twisted curve on Dylan’s lips was all cynical.
