“Sure, why not,” I said, trying to sound casual.
As we walked, we made small talk about the kids’ excitement over the concert.
“Bebe’s been practicing in front of the mirror every night, complete with the most dramatic poses,” I chattered.
“You should see Ivy. She was giving full performances in the car, much to her brothers’ dismay. Chase and Carter are not thrilled about being here tonight,” he added.
“Middle school boys and Christmas concerts don’t mix.”
When we reached the crowded hallway outside the gym, he stopped. “You look really nice tonight,” he said.
His tone was so quiet and sincere that for a moment, it was as if no one else existed.
Before I could say anything, someone called his name. A man walked over, shook Will’s hand and launched into a conversation. I slipped away, heading toward Camille, who somehow saved seats for us in the front row. She patted the empty chair next to her, and I sat down, grateful.
Will walked into the gym. He glanced down at me as he passed, heading into a row further back. His expression was soft and warm. Where was he sitting, I wondered, barely restraining myself from turning to follow where he walked.
The lights dimmed, the performance began. Most of the kids sang their hearts out; some looked bored, and others didn’t know any of the words.
After a few songs, I started, as unobtrusively as possible, to scan the room. I knew I couldn’t look behind me to see if Will was there. That would be too obvious. But I did glance side to side.
My phone buzzed inside my purse. As discreetly as I could, I opened the message and was surprised to see it was from Will.
Will: You have a pretty good view of that nose picker.
Camille glanced at me as I glanced at my phone. “Jason,” I lied, by way of explanation.
Natalie: His parents must be so proud
Will: I guess it beats the kid in the top row looking backward.
I stifled a laugh. Camille looked at me again, curious. I didn’t respond to Will this time.
After the show, parents were instructed to retrieve their children from their classrooms. Camille said she would grab the boys; I headed to get Bebe. When I arrived at her classroom, Will was right behind me.
“You girls did amazing,” I said.
“The best singers out there,” Will chimed in, pulling a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. He handed half to Ivy and the other half to Bebe, who gasped with delight.
“Thank you!” she said, her cheeks pink with excitement.
The girls skipped out of the classroom ahead of us, chattering about their performance.
“How did you score front-row seats for the concert?” Will smiled.
“I have connections,” I teased.
“Lucky you,” he said in a tone that was both lighthearted and warm.
I wanted to flirt with him, to say something clever that would make him laugh, but I knew I was already playing with fire. I kept it casual even though my heart raced.
By the time we reached the lobby, the moment we shared, whatever it was, dissolved into the disarray of parents and children. We said our goodbyes and Bebe and I headed over to meet Camille and the boys.
Camille caught up with me before we reached Tate’s car. “How do you know Will Parker?” she asked curiously.
I replied as casually as I could. “Bebe is friends with his daughter.”
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Je Vois”was all she said, but I felt my cheeks heat as if whatever she saw was too much.
