William Graff is a teacher?
No chance.
“English.”
“No way.” Marissa shook her head. “Youare an English teacher.”
“Guilty as charged.” William grinned, golden flecks in his eyes shimmering under the light. “What can I say? I love literature.”
Marissa had trouble finding the right words for the first time all night. William had a knack for throwing her off-balance, like she was constantly stepping on a patch of slippery ice assuming it was solid ground. “It’s not. It’s just that you’re, you’re…” She trailed off.
“I’m what?” William gave her a challenging stare.
“I, uh.”
“Don’t say it.” He shook his head, holding one finger up in a warning.
“Don’t say what?”
“I know what you’re thinking.” His face had lost any trace of lightness. “I’m a Graff.”
That was precisely what Marissa had been thinking. Why would one of the wealthiest men in town be a substitute teacher?
From the hard lines on his cheeks and how he clenched his jaw, Marissa could tell she had hit a pain point.
“I didn’t say that.” She clutched her coffee cup tighter, feeling the mood shift dramatically. She hadn’t meant to offend him.
William held open the front door for her. “You didn’t need to. Everyone I’ve ever met says it for you.” He frowned with such sadness that Marissa almost felt sorry for him. “I’ll see you at the Old Mill.”
She watched him walk toward his car. Maybe there was more to William Graff than she had initially realized.
FOURTEEN
DARBY
The Matterhorn was a ski-themed pub near the college campus. Like many family-owned businesses in Bend, the mountain aesthetic ran strong in the bar’s design. Wood-paneled walls, cozy booths, a roaring fireplace, and rustic ironwork created a welcoming atmosphere. Vintage wooden skis, travel posters, and black-and-white photographs of Mt. Bachelor added to the ski-lodge ambiance. Not much had changed since the days that Darby and Samesh used to spend in the popular college hangout. There had been some minor updates, but the bones of the pub were still the same.
“What can I get you?” Samesh asked after they’d been seated at one of the booths near the stone fireplace.
It was an intimate setting with the flickering candlelight and woodsy aroma of smoke. A log would crackle every so often, sending tiny embers up the massive stone chimney. Darby felt the same little pops of energy vibrating through her body.
She couldn’t believe it. After all the years…Samesh was here.
She studied the menu, trying to tamp down the fluttery feeling running down her limbs. “A hot toddy sounds good.”
“Two hot toddies coming up.” Samesh went to the bar to place an order.
Darby watched him. He had aged well. Better than well, actually. He had grown into his long, slender frame, bulking out a tad. His dark hair with natural streaks of silver gave him a distinguished look, but the warm smile and easy-going manner that had initially made them fast friends hadn’t changed and made him even more attractive now.
She felt a heat prickle on her neck when he returned with their hot toddies and slid into the booth across from her.
“To old friends.” He held his mug in a toast, his face cracking into a slow smile.
“I’ll drink to that.” Darby clinked her glass to his.
Samesh held her gaze a moment longer, causing the prickling feeling to spread further down her spine.
“Tell me about what you’ve been up to,” Darby said, taking a sip of the steaming lemon-infused drink and breaking away from his gaze.
