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“You might be interested in this.” My father handed me a pamphlet. “Came in the mail today.”
It was from my alma mater, Boston College of Music, advertising a program designed for alumni to teach music in France. On the front was a photo of a woman holding a trombone, surrounded by kids in what looked like the countryside. It included information on how to access the online application.
“Hmm...” My eyes lit up. “I’ll definitely be looking into this.”
“I assumed you would.” He smiled. “I’ll just have to figure out how to deal with worrying about you when you’re so far away.”
“I wouldn’t be that confident about it, if I were you.”
He broke open a pistachio. “Think positively.”
My phone dinged with a notification from Elite Massage’s scheduling app. An assignment had been added to my roster. My heart nearly stopped when I got a look at the update.
“What’s wrong?” my father asked.
A rush of heat ran through me. “I…just got a text from work about a new assignment for tomorrow night.”
“Is everything okay?”
I shared almost everything with my dad, but I hadn’t told him this story and didn’t want to rehash it now. So I simply said, “Yeah.”
Of course, it wasn’t merely the assignment that had shaken me. It was the person who’d booked the appointment.
Dax Moody.
• • •
It was already starting to get dark out when I pulled up to Dax’s on Wednesday night. I heard Winston barking before the door even opened. To my surprise, it was Dax himself who greeted me, not the housekeeper from before.
Dax nodded. “Hello, Wren.” He stepped aside. “Come in. It’s cold.”
“Where’s Winston?” I asked. I’d expected him to come charging toward me.
“I put him in the other room for a bit so he doesn’t bother you. I have an area gated off.”
“It’s fine. I can handle his attitude.”
“Let me get that.” He reached for my table.
I took a few more steps inside. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting to be called back here again.”
Dax’s lip twitched. “I felt like I needed to apologize.”
“You need to apologize? What I did was unforgivable.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t know. And it was an accident. But I sensed you were upset when you left. So I wanted to apologize for my harsh reaction.”
I looked around. “Why make another appointment to apologize to me? You could’ve sent me a message through the company.”
“Well, I’m also still in need of a massage. So I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.” He paused. “Unfortunately, the massage isn’t going to be able to happen tonight as I’d originally planned. Something’s come up at the last minute, and I didn’t have a chance to cancel before you arrived.”
“What happened?”
“Shannon, my housekeeper, had to leave early, and Rafe isn’t feeling well.”
“Rafe?” I tilted my head, pretending like I didn’t know who that was. Since the last time I was here, I’d read his wife’s obituary, which said she’d left behind a son.
Before Dax could answer, a boy made his way down the staircase. He paused at the bottom and looked at me. He seemed to be about twelve or thirteen.
I lifted my hand in a wave. “Hello.”
“Rafe, this is Wren,” Dax called.
Rather than acknowledge me, the boy walked through the foyer past us.
Dax cleared his throat. “He’s…shy.”
“I didn’t realize you had a son,” I lied.
He lowered his voice. “Rafe is not technically my son.”
That caught me off guard and piqued my curiosity all at once.
Dax looked toward where Rafe had disappeared. “My late wife adopted him when he was eight—before she and I got together. When Maren died, he was suddenly left in my care. Day by day, I’m still figuring out how to be a proper guardian to him. We’re in a situation neither of us chose. I don’t know what I would do without Shannon’s help.”
“Is Shannon the woman I met the last time I was here?”
“Yes. She’s here every weekday until eight. She basically runs this house while I work. Her two sons are grown, so she has the flexibility.” He sighed. “Anyway, she wasn’t feeling well tonight and left about ten minutes ago. So, like I said, I didn’t have time to cancel before you got here. Rafe doesn’t normally need a babysitter, but he’s under the weather tonight, too—it’s his ear. So I can’t proceed with the massage. I’m sorry.” He looked me up and down. “Would you like a cup of tea or something? You came all this way.”
As I pondered the offer, Rafe reappeared briefly before jetting past us back up the stairs. I watched him until he disappeared. My eyes were still glued to the stairs when I said, “I don’t want to impose.”
With the late cancellation, the appointment was already paid for and non-refundable. While the curious side of me wanted to stay, I felt strange about intruding when Dax seemed to have so much on his plate tonight.
