I sit on one of the stools in front of her, and when she looks down at me, she explains, “They signed the deal, and he left.”

“Why aren’t you with him?”

As she lets her head fall, she says, “Because he didn’t want me to be.”

I clasp my hands together, not knowing what the hell is wrong with Zane. “I don’t understand.”

She wipes the tears from her eyes and sits up a little straighter. “He said he was tired of hearing me bitch about something he’d been working towards for years. He knew I didn’t want to move to L.A. My life is here. My whole family is here. I didn’t want to leave all that, but it was pissing him off. He feels like I’m not supporting him.”

“Do you support him?”

“I don’t know, Ry. Honestly, between you and me, even though I don’t want to be alone, I’m kinda glad for the break. We haven’t been on the same page for a while.” After she says this, she hops down behind the bar and walks over to refill her cup of coffee. “Want some?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

She pours it black, like I always take it, and sets it in front of me as she stands on the opposite side of the bar top.

Taking a slow sip, I then ask, “So, why are you here?”

“I just had to get out of the house, and I knew nobody would be here. That is, until you decided to crash my pity party,” she jokes, laughing at herself. “What are you doing here at six a.m.?”

“I’m on my way to the Athletic Club. I needed to pick up some paperwork to drop off to my accountant later today.”

“You coming back?”

“Nah. I’m gonna take the day off.”

“That sucks,” she complains.

“Why?”

“‘Cause Michael is boring as hell, and he’s been in a shit-ass mood the past few days,” she tells me.

“You know why?”

“Not for sure, but I overheard him on his cell the other day.”

“Eavesdropping?”

She starts laughing, and says, “You know it! But anyway, from what I heard, I think . . . and don’t say shit about this, Ryan. Got it?” she warns.

“Yeah, whatever. Just say it.”

“I think his wife is having an affair.”

“That fuckin’ sucks.”

“I know. But you didn’t hear that from me, and I’m not saying it’s true. It’s just what I pieced together from what I heard,” she defends.

“Well, for his sake, let’s hope you’re full of shit and your eavesdropping skills suck.”

The ringing of my phone interrupts us. I look to see that it’s Gavin before I answer.

“Hey, what’s up?” I say.

“You at home?”

“No. I’m at the bar.”

“Even better. I wanted to drop off some tickets that I can’t use for a concert this Saturday.”

“Dude, I’m not in the mood to hit up another club.”

“No club, man. It’s a private concert over at Spines.”

“The book store?” I ask.

“Yeah. My boss gave me a few tickets, but I had another work thing come up, and I have to bail. You want ‘em? It’s for The xx. They’re in town for a couple days before their overseas tour,” he explains.

“Yeah, definitely, man,” I respond. That’s one band I’ve been dying to see, but never had the chance before now.

“Great. Don’t go anywhere. I’m about five minutes away.”

“Later,” I say before hanging up.

* * *

After Gavin dropped off the tickets the other day, I wound up running into Jase when I made it to the gym. We spent a couple hours lifting, and he took a few of the tickets off my hands, saying that he would go with Mark and bring along one of his friends, who I assume is the same person that Mark was telling me about a while back. We also made plans for the three of us to head down to Mount Rainier to go hiking next weekend.

After talking to my mom, I’m now running a bit late. I take a quick shower, fix my hair, and throw on my typical dark jeans, grey shirt, and black boots. I make my way downstairs and grab my jacket before I head out. The night is misty as I drive across town to Spines, a local book and music shop that has managed to stay open and alive while most of the others have closed.

I swing by one of the many espresso stands in this town and grab a cup of coffee. I don’t plan on drinking tonight, so I need the buzz of caffeine to keep me going since I was up so early this morning.

I pull into Spines and park my jeep. When I walk in, the place is dimly lit, with people everywhere. The store is small, so even though there aren’t too many people here, it feels like there are. The band is already playing, and I leave my jacket on one of the coat racks before spotting Mark.

He’s by himself, hanging out next to a low bookcase, and I make my way over.

“Hey, Mark.”

He turns around and claps my arm. “Hey. You just get here?”

“Yeah. Where’s Jase?” I ask.

“He’s grabbing a few beers,” he responds. “There he is,” he says as he looks over my shoulder.

When I turn around, I’m taken by surprise when I see that Jase’s friend is her. Her eyes catch mine, and she coughs against the sip of beer she just took, looking shocked to see me just as I am her.

She’s dressed casually in a long-sleeved, white v-neck shirt, jeans, and worn, brown leather boots that run up to just below her knees. She stands small next to Jase when she speaks, “You again.”

“You two know each other?” Mark asks.

“Not really,” I answer, finally breaking my eyes away from her.

“He’s come into Common Grounds a couple times to get coffee. How do you guys know each other?” she asks Mark.

“He owns Blur, where the band has been playing lately.”

“And the guy who gave me the tickets,” Jase says and then turns to me and adds, “Thanks, man.”

“No problem at all,” I tell him and flick my eyes over to the girl, only to see she now has her back to me as she listens to the band play.

Mark and I go find a table to sit down while Jase stays back for a moment with his friend. I still don’t know her name. I sit down and look over at them. She looks upset when Jase reaches down and holds her hand. I immediately wonder if her mood has something to do with me being here. God, why am I feeling so self-conscious?

They start heading over, and she sits down across from me, slipping her leopard scarf off her neck and laying it on the table. The two times I’ve seen her, her hair has been pulled up, messy, but for some reason, it looked good on her. Tonight it’s down, thick and layered. She pulls my focus when she says, “I’m sorry, but I never caught your name.”

I smile. I don’t know why, but something about her is intriguing, so I let it linger on my lips when I tell her, “Ryan. Ryan Campbell.”

“I’m Candace.” She looks at my cup of coffee, and teases, “Ever drink anything besides coffee?”

“I work a lot of late nights.”

“So, Ryan,” Jase starts, “Candace will be graduating this year as well. She’s a dance major.”

I notice Candace looking annoyed at Jase for saying that, but I shrug it off and ask her, “Dance. What kind?”

“Ballet,” she tells me and then takes a sip of her beer.

“Can’t say I know anything about that,” I say with light laughter.

“It’s okay. Nobody ever does.”

This chick seems way out of the realm of the girls I normally talk to. A ballerina? I find myself wanting to keep her talking because I like the sound of her soft voice. “So, I take it you’re the best friend who loves this band?” I question, nodding my head toward the stage.

She shifts, almost nervously, in her seat. “Yeah.”

She looks over at Jase, who is sitting next to her, and I watch their silent exchange, unsure of what’s going on. I think back to what I’ve heard Mark say about this girl.

“She’s going through some heavy stuff . . . Jase is staying the night with her.”

Watching her peel off the label on her beer bottle, I try to push whatever is bothering her away, and ask, “So, Candace, what do you plan on doing when you finish school?”

When she looks up at me, I notice the coloring of her eyes. They’re a light gold that almost flake into a deep emerald green.

“I hope to dance professionally while time allows. Not sure where that will happen. New York was always the plan, but I’m not so sure now.” She looks over to Jase again, but he’s engrossed in a conversation with Mark. I notice one of her brows twitch up. Nervous tick. I wonder if she’s even aware that she has one.

Man, this girl is easily distracted. I bring her back in when I say, “I love New York. You ever been?”

“Yeah, several times. It’s a great city. I actually lived there the summer before my senior year of high school. I had a scholarship to one of the conservatories in the city.”

“So, your parents just let you live there alone for the summer?” I ask, surprised that a parent would let their teenage daughter run off to New York City all by herself.

“Umm, yeah. My parents are . . . well, not your typical involved parents,” she tries to explain.

Moving past it, I continue, “So, that’s where you’d like to wind up then?”

“That’s the plan,” she says with a hint of a smile, which also reveals a hint of a dimple in her right cheek.

Damn, I feel like a deprived puppy, infatuated over details of a chick I don’t even know.

“What are you two talking about?” Mark asks, and I take the distraction, answering, “New York City.”

The band starts in on another song, and I know it well—’Infinity.’ I watch Candace stand and walk back to the bookcase Mark was at earlier. The three of us get up and follow her over, and I step next to her, resting my elbows on the bookcase as I lean forward.