“Chuck. Nice to meet you,” I said politely, holding back a sigh. There was no denying the guy before me was a looker. A dimple winked in his left cheek when he grinned, and the jeans painted to his legs made it clear that he was toned and in good shape. Unfortunately, he was also young enough to be my kid and that held no appeal at all.
“Couldn’t help but notice your friend never came back,” he commented with a wink. “I’d hate to think of you all alone tonight.”
I gave a small laugh and drained my beer glass, pushing my plate away. “Nothing to worry about there,” I assured him. “I do just fine on my own.”
Sean’s grin turned to a scowl, making it clear that he wasn’t used to being rejected. “Fuck you very much, then.”
Um, okay.
I shrugged as he stomped away. A laugh from the bartender told me he’d overheard the exchange.
“He’s something,” the man said with a grin. “Not sure I remember the last time he was shot down.”
I sighed. “A little too young for my taste,” I admitted. “I should have moved sooner to try and meet the guy earlier before his friend got sloshed.”
“Oh, Julian?” the bartender guessed. “He’s a good guy.”
“You know him?” I reached into my pocket for a business card and pen, scrawling my hotel info on it. “I don’t suppose you’d pass this on for me, would you?”
The bartender cocked his eyebrow. “Thought you gave him your number?”
“I did,” I admitted.
The bartender laughed. “Alright, man. You seem harmless, so if he pops back in, I’ll pass it along.”
“Thanks.” I tossed some bills onto the bar and slid from my stool. “Have a good night.”
Chapter Two
Tuesday before Christmas
Julian
“Mr. Jolly?”
Gritting my teeth at the much-hated nickname, I forced myself to smile at the adorable little girl tugging on my pant leg. With burnished gold curls and unusual violet eyes, little Leia had been born blind and looked like an angel, but it hadn’t taken long for me to learn that she was fearless and determined. Silly me, I’d assumed her dad was just overprotective when he’d hesitated to leave her in my care the day before – until I’d had to fetch a ladder to get her down from the twenty-foot-high catwalk over the stage. I never did figure out how she’d got up there.
Hence the reason that all of the other parents were long gone while one of her dads, Colby, stayed sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, scrolling through something on his phone.
“Hi, Leia. What’s up?”
She twirled a curl around her finger and smiled sweetly. “I was just wondering if we were going to get started soon?”
I chuckled. “Started? We started memorizing our lines twenty minutes ago,” I reminded her. “What’s wrong?”
Leia sighed theatrically, making me laugh again.
“I already know my lines,” she said sadly. “I want to start acting!”
“You know them all?” I asked, not believing it. I mean, granted it was only a three-act mini-production, but it still seemed improbable. “For the whole play?”
The curls bobbed eagerly. “I have a phonograph memory.”
I cocked my head. “What?”
“She means a photographic memory,” her dad, Colby, spoke up from his spot sitting against the wall. “Which is definitely strange with her being blind, but it’s true.”
“Impressive,” I said, absolutely meaning it, “but since the other actors don’t, we really need to give them time to learn theirs, right?”
