27
The flowers continued through the week. Along with other choice bits of poetry, some Japanese, some English, but all of them totally pertinent to the situation. They even came directly to the house, as if Xavier knew somehow that I would have at least told Matthew something about him.
I ignored them all, still uncertain about how to deal with the new revelations about his life and family. Except now it was Friday, I’d finally agreed to see him, and Xavier was due to arrive in New York this weekend. And I had absolutely no clue what to say.
I was still trying to figure that out on my way out of school to teach my Friday dance class when I heard my name.
“Frankie! Hey!”
Dread creaked through my mind like a rusty door hinge. I turned on the foursquare court to face Adam Klein, who was pushing his way out of the school’s main exit, his messenger bag slung across his body, glasses crooked over his nose, ever-present driver’s cap pulled on backward in his hurry.
“Frankie,” he wheezed after jogging across the playground. “Hey.”
“Hey Adam,” I said, checking my watch. “Can this wait? I have a class to teach at five, and—”
“It’ll only take a second.”
Adam stood up straight, still catching his breath, but tipped his head expectantly. Still, it wasn’t without humility. Though he had tried multiple times to get my attention in the months since our date, he hadn’t been too persistent. As if he knew I needed time to get over the fact that he had tried to force a kiss after too much wine and my kid’s father had threatened to punch his lights out for it.
I sighed, waiting. “All right.”
“I was wondering, ah, what you were doing this weekend. Maybe we could catch a movie or something. I feel like I owe you for last time.”
I had to fight a grimace. “Adam, I don’t really think that’s a good idea—”
“I don’t mean like that. I just never got to apologize properly for how our date ended.” His brown eyes widened with earnest, unwavering, and kind. “I know I messed up. I was nervous and drank way too much that night. You’re just so pretty, and I didn’t know how to deal with it, and…”
He continued babbling while I looked everywhere but at him, trying to figure a way out of this conversation. Unfortunately, before I could, I caught sight of the Duke of Kendal striding around the corner, making straight for the entrance of the playground.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“Huh?” Adam asked.
I turned back to him, dancing on the balls of my feet like a sprinter waiting for her gunshot. “Look, it’s all right. Water under the bridge. Consider yourself forgiven. Now, I’m going to be la—”
“Well, I’d like to make it up to you,” Adam rattled on, oblivious to my discomfort. “Maybe a do-over on that drink? Or just coffee if you like…”
“Francesca. Ces!”
I froze. Goddammit, he really just couldn’t wait outside the school grounds, could he?
Adam frowned, looked over my shoulder, and then his expression morphed to shock. “What the hell is he doing here?”
“I wish I knew,” I said, more to myself than to him.
“Francesca! I know you can hear me.”
I sighed. “Adam, I’m really sorry. Can we talk another time?”
But now Adam wasn’t paying attention to me either as a shadow fell over both of us in the exact silhouette of one Xavier Parker.
The man himself came to stand next to us, looking a far cry from gentry but still every bit his delicious, slightly dangerous self in a pair of jeans, his black leather jacket, and silver aviators covering his sapphire blues. His tattoo snaked out the top of his T-shirt, licking his neck.
“Hey, Xavier,” Adam said. “We were having a conversation, if you couldn’t tell.”
“Do I know you?” Xavier demanded irritably. “Because you’re talking to me like I do.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed through his thick lenses.