Be Mine (3 page)

She felt it best not to stray too far from her schoolwork, her job or her goals. Lexi Scott had plans – big ones. And in her mind, nothing and no one was going to stand in her way.

She pushed open the door into the main hallway and looked down to pull her leather gloves on before leaving.

“I’m going to assume you’re not a regular patron of the music department. Maybe just a fan of Bach?”

The voice was deep, but the shoes were Nike and Lexi knew they couldn’t belong to any of the society crowd she’d spent the last hour with.

She smiled back at the handsome cello player. He’d completely changed his clothes from a tuxedo to jeans, sweater and down coat in the same amount of time Lexi had taken wash her hands, brush her hair and apply Chapstick. He was even more handsome up close and his cello, now packed in a hard case, was casually flung over his shoulder.

“Let me guess,” he joked as he began to move in stride alongside her. “Music appreciation class. You’ve got a paper due. Probably tomorrow.”

Lexi was taken by his honesty and his dazzling smile. He’d looked so serious during the concert and she liked that she could be right about him knowing how to hold a girl.

“I’m not
that
bad,” she smirked. “It’s due next week.”

“That’s good news.”

“Why is it good news?” Lexi pushed the door open and into the cold wind tunnel created by the buildings on campus.

“Now I know you have time for coffee.”

“I do?” Lexi asked with a smile as she pulled her scarf tight around her neck, wincing from the cold. “What if I have somewhere extremely important to be?”

“You might,” he conceded. “But I can promise you one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll get the best grade on your Bach paper if you join me for coffee.”

“Well, there’s one I’ve never heard.”

“Tom Brooks,” he said as he stopped to adjust the cello case on his back and extend his hand.

“Lexi Scott,” she replied with a smile.

“Starbucks?”

“Okay,” Lexi reluctantly agreed. “But the one on campus. I see enough of the Vine Street shop. I work there.”

“See how well this is working out?”

“How’s that?” Lexi asked as they began walking to the student center Starbucks.

“I know music, you know Macchiato. Trust me. This is a beautiful thing.”

“I don’t like guys who say ‘trust me’.”

“Believe me.”

“Believe?”

Tom stopped in his tracks to grab her undivided attention.

He flashed her a huge smile and his brown eyes watered from the cold making them twinkle. “I know a beautiful thing when I see it.
Believe
me.”

The smell of coffee hit them as they walked through the door of the student center Starbucks.

“I’ve never been to a Starbucks with a barista aficionado such as yourself,” Tom joked as he flirt-punched Lexi in the arm throwing her and the cello on his back slightly off balance.

Lexi fidgeted with her phone, knowing she’d soon be getting the call from her roommates wondering where she was. Already a half hour later than she’d promised to meet them at the bar, she didn’t seem to care. Tom was adorable. Each time he smiled, his dark eyes sparkled and Lexi could feel butterflies dancing in her stomach. It was a new sensation for her as most hot guys just turned her on. This one made her nervous. She told herself if the night started to go south, she’d let her phone ring and then explain that she needed to meet her roommates.

“What’s the best coffee drink
not
on the menu?” Tom asked as they approached the counter.

“Coffee? Or best drink?”

“Either. I’m game for anything.”

Lexi walked to the counter and ordered for the both of them. “Two tall chai cookie lattes please.”

“What the heck is a chai cookie latte?” he asked without a beat as he paid for their drinks.

“A chai tea latte with extra chai, hazelnut, java chips, and cinnamon sprinkles,” she explained as she turned her attention back to the barista. “Lexi. The name is…I mean Tom. The name is Tom.” She corrected herself shooting Tom an uneasy smile.

“Interesting.”

“Well, you said you were
game
. Maybe I should’ve second guessed your confidence,” Lexi teased.

“Oh no. I’m game. I’m just impressed as hell.”

Lexi giggled and suddenly found herself staring into his eyes again and wondering who was really behind the cello.

“Speaking of being impressed,” Lexi continued as she pointed out a table. “I was quite impressed with your performance tonight. Should I make the assumption you are a music major?”

“Double major. Music and math. What about you?” he asked.

“A double major?
Still
impressed.”

“Don’t be. Answer my question. What are you in for? I mean, school
is
a little like prison.”

“In that case, I’m serving concurrent sentences in Comparative Literature and Journalism,” she grinned.

Tom took the first sip of his latte and nodded. She had just reaffirmed what he already assumed to be true. Lexi Scott was beautiful and brilliant.

“What do you do with a music and math major after graduation?” she asked. “I’m sure you’ll be playing with a symphony somewhere right?”

“Why would you assume that music would be my career path?”

“You’re so talented.”

“I’m talented in a
lot
of areas. You just need to get to know me better. Baby, I’m the fire your mother warned you not to play with.”

“
Really
?” she said with disgust. “And here I thought you were
so
adorable and you had to go and say something smarmy like that to completely turn me off. You just contradicted what I believed was true. I guess artists
aren’t
more sensitive. They’re assholes like two-thirds of all the other men in the world.”

“I’m sorry,” Tom barked. “I was trying to be cool. Something I’m
really
not. I was trying to impress you. Now I’ve just fucked everything up.”

Disgusted, Lexi rose from her seat and began to storm off in grand style. Then she remembered her drink. She stopped and turned on her heels. She at least wanted the warm drink for her walk home.

Tom dropped his head, angry with himself for the asinine comment. As Lexi reached for her latte, he cupped her fingers and begged her to look at him with the touch of his hand. Slowly their eyes met and she waited for him to speak.

“Don’t go. I’m sorry. I think you’re funny and smart and beautiful. And this is the best night I’ve had in a really long time. I spend my days and nights studying math and playing a fucking cello.” He dropped his eyes to their hands still touching. “And I’m sorry I said ‘fuck’ and I’m sorry I said it again trying to apologize for saying it in the first place.”

Lexi tried to conceal the smile his apology brought to her face. It occurred to her that maybe Tom Brooks had spent
too
much time cradling his cello.

Slowly she sat back down at the table and nervously pulled her cup in tight to warm her hands.

“I’m sorry. Really I am,” he reiterated. “I’m not that talented in other areas. I’m not cool, don’t date that often, not an Adele fan and I’m addicted to
The Walking Dead
– on Netflix or otherwise. Basically, I’m awkward. If you like awkward, I’m your guy.”

“Maybe we should just sit here. Maybe you shouldn’t talk so much. It might be better that way,” she advised.

Tom locked his mouth with an imaginary key and grinned.

Lexi shook her head and sighed heavily. She couldn’t decide if this boy was crazy, brilliant or both.

The silence lingered over them and Lexi began to feel guilty for chastising him. “Okay. Let’s talk. But please, choose your words more carefully.”

Tom nodded and continued to smile.

“What?” Lexi asked.

“Did I hear you correctly before you called me an asshole? Cause I think you said I was – adorable.”

Lexi dropped her head and laughed. “Yes. An adorable asshole.”

“I’ll take it. Can the adorable asshole please have your number?”

M
ike stepped into the large office, tossing his briefcase onto the desk. He walked to the edge of the floor to ceiling windows that encompassed the room and surveyed all that was below. It had been a week since he’d seen her, and although they’d only met briefly, she consumed all his thoughts. How she looked, how she smelled and the smile that made him forget his own name. But he knew
her
name. Sarah Brooks was the woman who caused him to get up every morning a little early. Caused him to carefully pick his suit for the day. Hell, he’d even started whitening his teeth in hopes that their smiles would at last meet again. And they would. If he could convince clients that he was
the man
, surely he could convince Sarah Brooks of the same.

“Mike?” The knock on his open door drew him out of his daydream.

“Good morning, Ellen.”

“Am I interrupting? You looked pretty deep in thought.”

“Have a seat. I need to talk to you.”

She held up a post-it note stuck to her index finger. “I gathered that from the note you left me that says,
Ellen, I need to talk to you
.”

“Yeah,” he sighed as he sat behind his desk. “How long have we known each other?”

“Eight years maybe?”

“Has it been that long?”

“I’ve been here five, and I knew you the three years before while I was in art school.”

Mike nodded, clearly lost in his own thoughts.

“Am I getting fired or something, Mike?”

“Hell, no,” he quipped. “What would make you think that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe your behavior?”

“I’m sorry. I am. There’s just something…”

“For heaven’s sake, Mike. What is it? Are you sick? Has something bad happened?”

“No, nothing like that. Ellen?”

“Yes?”

“You’re a woman, right?”

“I like to think so, although having a vagina doesn’t stop me from believing that my balls are bigger than most men’s.”

“I wouldn’t dispute that,” he laughed, easing back into the comfort zone he’d lost in the past week. “I need some advice.”

“I’m all ears.”

“There’s a woman.”

“Thank the Lord,” she proclaimed as she looked to the ceiling and held her arms to the sky.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You mean other than knowing whether you’re gay or straight?”

“What?” Mike gasped.

“C’mon, Mike. You had to know people have been talking for years. A smart, handsome, successful guy who doesn’t have a woman?”

“I’ve had women.”

“Not very many.”

I’ve had women, Ellen. I haven’t had a relationship. I haven’t had time for it,” he snapped.

“I think we both know that’s a big fat lie,” she smirked.

“You haven’t exactly been out there looking either.”

“That’s different,” Ellen mumbled, dropping her head with her voice.

“I’m sorry,” Mike apologized. “I had no right to say that.”

“Yeah, well, my husband’s only been dead two years. I’m a war widow. What’s your excuse?”

“I said I’m sorry. You know me – my asshole talks before my mouth. Which is why I need your help.”

“What’s her name?” Ellen sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Sarah Brooks. She’s a violinist with the symphony.”

“Where’d you meet her?”

“Starbucks. I’ve basically been stalking her for over a year.”

“Are you serious?”

Mike could tell by the tone of Ellen’s voice that she was both concerned and amused. “Yes, I’m serious. I’m a seriously screwed up individual.”

“What do you think
I
can do about it?”

“I need help.”

“Clearly,” Ellen sighed.

“I’m so overwhelmed by this woman. I get excited at the very thought of seeing her. When I am around her, my mouth dries up and any intelligent thought I have goes right out of my head. I’m dumbstruck,” he continued as he rose from his chair and began to nervously pace the room. “I’m awestruck. I’m bewildered. I’m a total idiot.”

“Well, at least you’ve got a theme rolling here.”

Her joke fell on the quiet room.

“C’mon,” Ellen teased. “You’re Mike Montgomery. You’re the design mogul featured in magazines and newspaper articles. You’re not a
total
idiot.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he sighed as he sat back in his chair.

“Hey, you have
my
vote. I’ve seen you sell clients on our company that I thought would never use a design team. I’m just wondering why you can’t sell yourself to this violin playing woman.”

“Sarah,” he quickly corrected. “Her name is Sarah. And I suppose it’s because I don’t know… women.”

“Mike, do you believe in love?”

“I believe in the possibility. And for a long time, that was enough. But it isn’t anymore. And now I’m realizing that maybe I don’t know how to love.”

“Love isn’t what you know, Mike. It’s what you feel. Love’s about how someone touches your soul. You should be a better person when you’re with that someone. You don’t
want
to be better, you just are. So…”

“So what?” he quipped.

“So how do you feel?”

“I have an idea,” Mike blurted.

“What? Are we still on the ‘I’m in love with the violin playing woman and don’t know what to do about it’ subject?” she asked as she raised an eyebrow.

“I want to leave her a message. One that she won’t be able to forget.”

“In English, Mike,” Ellen smiled with sarcasm.

“I know a lot about her already. She’s got a concert coming up – a concert that features her. I’m going. And since I can’t seem to make sense when I try to engage her in conversation, I want to engage her in another way. I want to leave her a message,” he explained, his eyes twinkling with ideas.

“Engage? Is that a Freudian slip?” she taunted.

Mike stared through her, and Ellen stopped smiling. “You want to write her a note?”

“No,” he replied. “Just like you said. I want to touch her soul.”