Page 1
Chapter 1
Stone Haven, Pennsylvania
“I don’t do shots.”
Everyone began protesting at once—well, everyone other than Tom, who simply ignored her protest and ordered six Slippery Nipples from the bartender.
“Take it, Alessandra. It’s not every day you celebrate a new job—”
“Or abandon your colleagues.” Charlotte scrunched up her nose in mock anger. Everyone laughed, but Alessandra knew there was a bit of truth to her friend’s allegation. She was leaving them, after all. Who was she to deny her boss—ex-boss now—if he wanted to buy his teachers shots after their last day of in-service?
“Besides, this is more of a cordial than a shot,” Charlotte said as the bartender lined the drinks up on the bar.
The group looked at Charlotte as if she’d gone daft.
“It’s all semantics,” Charlotte said, “but Alessandra will only drink cordials, so . . .”
“Leave it to the English teacher,” Tom murmured. “Cordial. Shot. Call it what you will,” he said, lifting his glass. “To a successful school year, to the best teachers in the district, and to Alessandra Fiore—an excellent history teacher and soon-to-be excellent college professor.”
“Cheers,” her friends said one by one, lifting their glasses in a toast. Accepting defeat, she did the same, then drank down the guaranteed headache. As she swapped the empty shot glass for the beer someone else had bought her, Tom clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the new gym teacher, who’d barely made it out alive this year. The poor guy had fallen prey to so many first-year pranks, it was a wonder he’d still shown up to drink with them this afternoon. Or maybe it wasn’t so much of a surprise. She wondered how he’d fare next year, then realized again she wouldn’t be around to find out.
She looked at the familiar dark oak of the bar that had witnessed more teacher happy hours than she could count and wondered what her new colleagues would be like. There were only a handful of young professors at Stone Haven University, and none of the others would be in the history department with her. But if an inferior social life at work was the price to pay for her dream job, so be it. Plus, her friends would still be here, at Murphy’s Pub, every Friday like clockwork.
“Everything OK?”
She jumped a little at the sound of Toni’s voice. Her roommate worked at a shop down the street and typically closed the place down on Fridays. Alessandra hadn’t expected her for at least another hour.
“What are you doing here so early?”
Toni took the ever-present hair tie from her wrist and, in one swift movement, drew her hair into a perfect messy bun. Red hair stuck out in more places than it didn’t, the bright color attracting as much attention as her welcoming smile. Toni’s hair was impossible to look away from. Unbelievably, it was entirely natural too.
“Birdie came down to close. I couldn’t miss your grand celebr—”
Her eyes suddenly went comically wide, focused on something over Alessandra’s shoulder. Alessandra started to turn in that direction, but Toni grabbed her arm.
“No! Don’t look.”
Rolling her eyes, she humored her friend.
“Holy hotness,” Toni whispered just loud enough for her to hear. “And he’s looking at us.”
Alessandra lifted her Corona Light to her mouth, and got a mouthful of lime. She’d forgotten to shove it down the neck. Grabbing a bar napkin, she caught a glimpse of Toni’s worshipful expression. Man, the girl had it bad.
“Is now a bad time to remind you of your boyfriend?”
“Be cool,” Toni said.
Alessandra had to laugh at that. “If anyone here is not being cool, it’s you. Seriously, what’s up with you? Let me get you a—”
She’d brushed off Toni’s hand and finally managed to get a look at the man who’d turned her friend into a bumbling mess. And Alessandra could certainly see what all the fuss was about.
He was looking at them. And not even attempting to hide it. Undeniably good-looking, his dirty blond hair and musician vibe were less intriguing than the way he was staring at Toni. That stare was intense and probing, as if he knew her, but Alessandra was certain she’d never seen him before.
“Her usual,” Alessandra said to the bartender, forcing herself to look away from the newcomer.
“You’re not buying me a drink,” Toni said, trying to push her aside. “This is your night.”
Before Alessandra could take another glance at the stranger, Tom stepped away from the stretch of bar they’d taken over. As their principal, he rarely stayed out for more than an hour or so.
