Unless.
Could he possibly be looking for me?
“Hey, Tabitha, I just sat a hot guy in your section,” the hostess called out as I passed by with my tray of drinks.
And I knew it was him.
I almost turned around and told her to give him to somebody else so he wouldn’t see me like this. Let’s face it, even if I wasn’t waitressing, I’m not what I was at seventeen. Who is? But, we were fully booked tonight, and short-staffed. There was nobody to cover my table. I’d have to face him, whether I liked it or not.
Out on the terrace, it was a party scene. The sun hadn’t yet set, but everybody had their buzz on. Music blasted from the speakers. Motorboats raced across the water, and somebody was shooting off Roman candles from the dock. I saw Connor out of the corner of my eye. He was seated at a table along the railing, facing the restaurant, his back to the lake, scanning the crowd like he was looking for somebody. A woman, presumably. His famous wife must be joining him, and he’d saved her the chair with the view. A gentleman, as always. That gave my heart a wrench.
It took a while before I could get to him. I had two tables waiting for drinks, three ready to order, two with food sitting in the kitchen that I needed to get out, and two others ready to pay. I was glad for the delay, which gave me time to collect myself. I’d dreamed of this moment so often. Sometimes it ended with us in each other’s arms. Sometimes with me telling him off for letting his family come between us. Never once did it involve me taking his drink order.
When I couldn’t avoid it any longer, I grabbed a pitcher of water and headed for his table. And found myself looking right into his eyes. Those hazel eyed I’d loved so well, the summer I was seventeen.
4
Tabitha
Thirteen years before
The first time I saw Connor Ford, he was standing by the pool at the Baldwin Lake Country Club, in swim trunks and Ray-Bans, surrounded by a gaggle of girls. I was working as a pool girl, setting up beach chairs, collecting soggy towels, fetching burgers and shakes from the grill window. The moms would sit tanning and day-drinking while the kids screamed and splashed and threw food, and the dads hit on me. But I liked spending my days in the sun, and I enjoyed the party atmosphere, even if it wasn’t meant for me.
Connor was nineteen and gorgeous, and Nell Ford’s grandson besides. Mrs. Ford, a prima donna with a deep tan and a Brahmin accent, who wore pearls with her golf clothes, owned the biggest house on the lake. Though even back then, Baldwin Lake wasn’t what it had once been. That sense of coming down in the world probably had something to do with Nell Ford’s snobbish attitude. According to my Grandma Jean, she’d take the smallest lapse in service as a personal slight and wouldn’t rest until some poor slob paid with their job. Grandma Jean, who’d worked at the country club for years, had gotten me the pool-girl gig that summer. The one piece of advice she gave me when I started was to steer clear of Nell Ford and her family. Right—easier said than done. Ford grandchildren were everywhere I turned. They were spoiled and bratty—private-school kids from New York and Connecticut, who ran wild and made tons of noise and mess. I spent my days fetching food for them, cleaning up after them, and feeling put-upon by them. Until Connor arrived, and everything changed.
For the first week or so, I watched him from the corner of my eye as I went about my duties, too intimidated to speak to him. One hot afternoon in early July, I discovered he’d been watching me, too.
I don’t know where everyone had disappeared to. Connor was alone, lounging on his usual chair with his sunglasses on, his skin all delicious and tan and gleaming, looking like he must smell of coconuts.
“Hey, Tabby, c’mere,” he said, like we were old friends.
I’d been collecting dirty dishes that were baking in the sun. I had to look around to make sure he was talking to me.
“Yeah, you,” he said, grinning.
I shouldn’t’ve been surprised. I was seventeen that summer, fit and tan, my hair bright from the sun. My uniform was itty-bitty short shorts, Keds, and a polo with the club crest. Plenty of men stared. Even so, I had assumed Connor was out of my league.
As I walked over to him, he took off the Ray-Bans. His eyes were a hazel I’ve never seen the equal of, green and gold and gray all at once, with long sooty lashes.
“I wasn’t sure.”
“You’re the only Tabby around here, aren’t you?”
I wore a name tag for the job, but most club members didn’t bother to look at it. They waved a hand or said “Hey” to summon me. His grandmother, Mrs. Ford, actually snapped her fingers—that’s just how she rolled. So, I was surprised that Connor even knew my name, let alone that he’d use it. I put the dishes down and walked over to him.
“It’s Tabitha. Nobody calls me Tabby.”
“I do.”
I nodded, trying to play it cool, when really I wanted to whoop and turn a cartwheel because Connor Ford had a pet name for me.
“So, listen. My cousin Robbie and I have this band. We’re playing in the clubhouse at nine tonight, in the TV room off the dining hall. You should come.”
“You want me to come hear your band?”
“Why not? You got someplace better to go?”
“Staff isn’t allowed at club events. There’s a policy against it.”
“Well, look, this isn’t an actual club event. It’s just some kids jamming. So, that rule doesn’t apply.”
“I don’t know.”
“Just say I invited you. It’s a stupid rule, anyway. Nobody’s gonna care.”
Nobody except your grandmother, I wanted to say.
“I can’t. Thanks for asking, though. That’s nice of you.”
He looked at me steadily. I felt dizzy, staring into those eyes.
“Well, if you change your mind, no tickets required. I’ll even dedicate a song to you.”
I laughed. “I’ll think about it.”
“You do that.”
I walked away, beaming. For the rest of that day, I floated through my chores, slowly convincing myself not only that I could pull it off, but that I had to. A guy I had an awful crush on had asked me to come hear his band play. Why shouldn’t I go? He was right. The rule was stupid. Yet, sneaking out wouldn’t be easy. My grandparents’ house was tiny, and if Grandma Jean caught me, she’d be upset.
I’d been living with my grandparents for years at that point, and though I loved them to pieces, I longed to escape. I’d grown up an army brat, moving every year. When I was ten, my mom died. At the funeral, her parents, Grandma Jean and Grandpa Ray, convinced my dad to let me spend the summer with them. When summer ended, everyone agreed I should stay on. Everyone but me. Nobody asked me what I wanted. My grandparents became my legal guardians. To this day, I don’t know which was harder—my mother dying, or my father letting me go so easily. At least Mom wanted me. Dad eventually remarried and moved to Texas with his new wife and kids. I was not invited to join them.
Every time I went near the pool that afternoon, Connor made an excuse to talk to me. He ordered a milkshake and three Cokes in a three-hour period, brushing his fingers against mine when I handed him something, making me flush and stutter.
The pool closed at six. At ten of, I was collecting ketchup squeeze bottles from the grill area when Connor came up behind me. He put his hands on my waist and spun me around to face him. He was so tall. I could smell the suntan lotion, warm on his skin.