Wrong For You (Before You Series Book 3) Page 3

  “I’ll do my best.” Alec replied, pulling the purple pen out of his back pocket along with the hopelessly crumpled volunteer application. He didn’t really have much to put on his application except being a drummer in various bands over the last ten years, but somehow he suspected Little Violet wouldn’t care too much as long as his references checked out, and they would because Rick would make sure of it.

  “Thanks, man. Call me if you hear anything.”

  Alec hung up his phone and tossed it on the coffee table. After driving for two days straight and sleeping in his car, he could barely keep his eyes open. He’d call Rick in a couple days to discuss moving the studio time back a week or two, not that he wanted to stay in Montana any longer than a month, but because Marcus really needed the time.

  ***

  Three hours later Alec strolled into the center with two bags of food. He hoped Violet liked burgers because he’d bought her one, too. He figured he owed it to her for hooking him up with her basement apartment. If he checked into a hotel, it would only be a matter of days before people put two and two together and realized he was Alec Reed of Chasing Ruin, and then he wouldn’t be able to do much of anything in town, including volunteering at the Foundation. That would really suck because he needed to do this more than anything. If he donated his time to the program that helped him when he was a seriously fucked up teenager, it’d go a long way toward filling the void rotting inside of him, or at least that’s what he convinced himself before he fell asleep in the Foundation parking lot last night.

  As he turned the corner to leave the gym in the direction of the offices, he stopped short. Little Violet stood at the top of a wobbly wooden ladder that must have been older than her in the middle of the hallway changing a light bulb. Shit, she was five seconds from falling on her ass. Didn’t the maintenance crew do that crap?

  As much as he enjoyed the view of Violet barefoot with her skirt riding up her too-long-to-be-real legs, he didn’t want to watch her fall. He dropped two white paper bags of food on the floor and he stepped up behind her, wrapping his hands around the top of her thighs. “You’re going to fall on your face.”

  “Huh?” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder.

  “I said you’re going to fall.”

  “I’ll be fine. I do this all the time.”

  He shook his head. “Well, you shouldn’t. You need to buy a new ladder or better yet, have the maintenance crew do it.” He practically growled.

  She finished twisting the light bulb into the socket. “Mr. Reed,” Violet said, sounding unfazed by his sudden outburst. “The Foundation can barely pay its rent most months, much less afford a new ladder or a regular maintenance crew.”

  “Alec. Call me Alec,” he demanded, not liking the formal tone of her voice.

  “All right, Alec. Can you please stop digging your hands into my legs so I can step down now?”

  “Sorry.” He loosened his grip around her thighs and smoothed his hands down her legs, letting his hands linger on her delicate ankles for a second too long before moving away. Legs were his thing, and not the long shapeless kind. He liked the toned kind with plenty of definition and a nice small ankle. Violet’s legs were nearly perfect in his opinion, and as much as he’d enjoy getting up close and personal with her legs, he wouldn’t do it. Girls like Violet were made to have a white picket fence and 2.5 kids with a suit and tie, nine to five husband. He’d never be that guy.

  “Your references checked out. Did you bring your application back with you?” Violet walked toward an office at the end of the hall.

  “Wait,” he said, slipping the wrinkled application out of his pocket.

  “Yes,” she said without turning around.

  “What did you mean when you said the Foundation doesn’t have any money?”

  Sighing, she turned around. “It’s broke.”

  “How broke?”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Let me put it this way…if I don’t take a paycheck the rest of the summer, I might be able to keep the doors open through August.”

  “What about the donors?”

  “Our biggest donor died last year, and I haven’t been able to find a benefactor to replace him. He basically kept the Foundation doors open for the last two decades. He even owned the building, so the Foundation only paid a nominal amount of rent. When the lease came up for renewal six months ago, his kids changed the lease agreement to reflect the fair market value.” She shrugged. “The Foundation relied heavily upon him, to its detriment.” She started walking toward her office again.

  “How much do you need?”

  She laughed as she tapped her finger on her sassy, pink lips. “Two hundred fifty thousand should do it—at least for a year. Are you offering to cover the shortfall?”

  His eyebrows climbed his forehead. Damn, the Foundation was broke—really fucking broke. When he frequented the place as a teen, it always had ample resources to feed the kids, plenty of employees, and relatively new equipment in the music room. Initially, he wanted to spend his time teaching the kids music, but now he thought his time could be better spent elsewhere.

  “The application,” she said, holding out her hand and breaking the silence that ensued after the financial bomb she dropped on him.

  When he handed it to her, she scanned the limited information he provided, which included a fabricated work history. Earlier he’d been concerned about his lack of relevant work experience, but now that he had a clear picture of the Foundation’s financial situation, she couldn’t turn him away. She needed him, and as fucked up as it was, he liked that Little Violet needed something from him. Not many people did. Oh, they wanted stuff from him…like attention, money, and the power a connection to him and Chasing Ruin offered, but that was superficial.

  “With all this experience in the music industry, you probably wanted to work in the music room.”

  His application wasn’t entirely accurate. He wrote that he worked in the music industry at his agent’s company. He wanted to keep his identity secret as long as possible, partially because he didn’t know shit about Violet. For all he knew, she might sell him out to the first tabloid that answered her phone call. But also because he liked the idea of spending a month just being himself without any of the fanfare of being the drummer of Chasing Ruin nipping at his ass.

  “Initially, I thought it’d be a great idea, but now I think I’d like to spend my time raising money to keep the Foundation going.” If she’d go for his idea, it’d be ideal because he could stay behind the scenes and there wouldn’t be much chance of one of the kids recognizing him. Between living in her basement and being holed up in an office at the Foundation, he could maintain a low profile for the entire month and no one except his agent would know his location. This whole idea sounded better and better the more he thought about it.

  She started shaking her head. “I don’t think—”

  “Just hear me out,” he interrupted. “I work for a fairly well-known talent agency in LA. I have plenty of contacts I can extort money from. You’d be stupid to turn me down. Two hundred fifty thousand dollars is nothing in the music world. I’ll have that and more by the end of the month.”

  Violet slipped her feet into the nude colored heels that she had abandoned next to the ladder. “I don’t know. I would need to train you and give you more background on the foundation.”

  “Trust me, all I need is access to your computer so I can generate the receipts and a short but sweet letter about all the great things the Foundation does for underprivileged teens in Missoula.”

  “It couldn’t hurt,” she finally answered after few long moments.

  A smile spread across his face. “Great. Let me know where to start.”

  She motioned toward the office at the end of the hall. “This way.”

  Alec picked up the bags of food from the floor and followed her down the hall. The office didn’t look any better than the rest of the building. The computer on the desk looked like a rel
ic from the early 90’s and the desk with its chipped veneer looked even older. Violet slipped into the chair behind the desk and tapped at the keyboard for a few minutes. “Okay, everything you need is up.” She stood up. “I’m going to grab some lunch before the kids start showing up after summer school or whatever else they're doing this summer.”

  “No need. I brought you lunch.” He held out one bag of food for her. “Well, as long as you’re okay with burgers and fries.” Now that he thought about it, most women he knew would rather die than let a burger or a fry cross their lips. Her stomach grumbled and he chuckled. “I guess that’s a yes.”

  She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and cheeks flushed tellingly. “My stomach doesn’t lie. I’ve been living on peanut butter sandwiches for a couple days. I’d take anything at this point.”

  “What the hell?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

  She lifted one shoulder nonchalantly. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just trying to make the Foundation’s money last a little longer and I cut my salary. It’s only temporary.”

  Even though he didn’t know much about Violet, he didn’t like the idea of her struggling to feed herself. “What about your family?”

  She laughed, her eyes lighting up. “I’m not going to beg them for money, and even if I did, they wouldn’t help. I’d be playing right into their tough love strategy to get me to do what they want.”

  “And what’s that?” Alec asked, watching her unfold the wrapper around her burger and lift it to her mouth.

  “Mm,” she moaned as chewed her first bite. Watching her eat was one of the sexiest things he’d witnessed in a long time. Women in skimpy dresses didn’t have a thing on seeing Violet make love to her burger as though it were the best thing to pass her lips in years.

  “Law school,” she answered, dabbing her lips with a brown napkin. “I come from a long line of small town lawyers. My parents want me to join their practice and be the third Emerson.”

  “Huh?”

  “Right now their firm is called Emerson and Emerson after my mom and dad. If I went to law school and joined their practice, they promised to change the name to Emerson, Emerson and Emerson.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I’m serious.”

  His lips shaking, he nibbled on his lip ring.

  She tossed a french fry at him. “Go ahead and laugh. I know it’s a silly name.”

  “It seems like there should a better way to capture all three names without sounding so…redundant.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “But then each of us wouldn’t get the recognition we deserved. Being a named partner is a big deal.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “Nope. I don’t care, but it was my mom and dad’s latest carrot to lure me into law school.”

  “Are you going to go?” He took a drink of his soda, watching her face from beneath his lashes.

  “I don’t know. Being a lawyer is their dream, not mine.”

  “And what’s your dream?” He leaned back against the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing them at his ankles.

  “For as long as I can remember, I wanted to make a difference in kids’ lives. At first I thought that meant being a teacher, but then I volunteered at the Foundation as a tutor and I was hooked. I’ve been here for six years, if you include my volunteer work before I graduated from college, but now…” She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s wearing on me.”

  “How?”

  “I’m okay if I can’t afford the best clothes, the best car, or other things, but I like to eat and pay my bills and that’s barely feasible anymore.” She bit on her lower lip, her lashes lowered. “I feel like a quitter because these kids have it so much worse than me, but still…”

  She looked down without continuing her sentence, but Alec understood what she meant. He was one of those kids who barely had food on the table and lived with an alcoholic mom. If their house hadn’t been paid off with their dad’s insurance policy, he would have spent his childhood on the streets or in foster care. “You aren’t greedy for wanting to have a life.”

  Avoiding his gaze, she exhaled loudly, playing with the top button of her white blouse. “Conceptually, I understand that, but sometimes I can’t convince myself and I feel guilty for putting my needs ahead of these kids who have so little. I volunteered at the Foundation because it fulfilled my internship for my social work degree, but after a day, I loved it. I thought I’d found my calling, but now I’m not so sure.”

  He leaned across the desk and tipped up her chin so he could see her eyes again. They were innocent and full of life. He hated that she was hiding them from him. “You’re a good person, Violet. Don’t beat yourself up if you decide you need more stability. Everybody deserves stability. There are other ways to help. You don’t need to starve to prove you care.”

  “I know.” Moving her chin away from his touch, she smiled, but her eyes were flat and lifeless instead of dancing with humor. She stood up and tossed the rest of her food in the trashcan next to her desk. “I’m going to get ready for the afternoon. The kids will arrive in less than an hour.”

  He didn’t want her to leave and that thought screwed with his head. One part of him begged to get to know her and find out what made her sad, happy, and everything in between. The other part of him knew it could never happen. He couldn’t let her or anyone else into his life. It was better that way. He wasn’t good for any other woman, especially one as innocent and good as Violet.

  Chapter Five

  “Hey, where are you going?” Alec said as Violet came out her front door early Saturday morning, purple backpack strapped around both of her shoulders with double holstered water bottles peeking out of the white mesh pockets on either side.

  Violet turned around, a big smile on her clean, makeup-free face, her long blonde hair scraped away from her face in a high ponytail. She wore khaki shorts and a white tank top. Damn, she was beautiful. He’d been avoiding being alone with her as much as possible this past week, trying to bury his attraction to her, but he craved her voice and her smile.

  “Where does every self-respecting Montana native go on the weekends during the middle of July?” she asked, raising one of her pale blonde eyebrows.

  Now that was one question he couldn’t answer. Growing up, his family was anything but normal. In his house, weekends, regardless of the month, meant trying to weed through the throngs of people passed out on the living room floor and then he spent the afternoon cleaning up beer cans, cups, and, sadly, vomit. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  She laughed, tilting her head to the side. “Are you sure you’re from Montana? You said you were, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “I can assure you I was born and raised here, but I still don’t know where you’re headed. Why don’t you come here and give me a hint?” He crooked his finger, signaling for her to come closer.

  She took a couple steps toward him and cocked one of her delicate hips to the side. “I’ll give you four hints—backpack, water bottles, hiking boots, and huckleberry season. Does that jog your memory?”

  “Ah. Hiking,” he answered, feeling a smile stretch the corners of his lips. Without even trying, Violet knew how to make him smile.

  She laughed, a light, musical sound that complimented her lighthearted, caring personality perfectly. “Yes, hiking.” Her eyes swept his body, starting with his black faded t-shirt, his dark jeans, his black, silver-studded belt, and his heavy leather boots. “I’d ask you to join me, but I don’t think you have the right wardrobe.”

  Without thinking, he tugged lightly on the end of her ponytail. Over the past week, he’d been inventing reasons to touch her. He loved the silkiness of her hair and the softness of her baby-skin. “How do you know I don’t have hiking gear?”

  She tapped her finger against her mouth; a habit of hers that never failed to draw all of his attention to the sweep of her beautifully sculpted
upper lip. “Just a wild guess.”

  She was absolutely right. Beyond his standard issue jeans and dark t-shirts, he didn’t have many other clothes with him. He forgot to have his manager send any workout clothes, which made him even more claustrophobic and angst-ridden than usual. In LA, he ran nearly every day. He loved the feeling of the endorphins flooding his veins at the exact moment that he didn’t think he could take one more stride. Peace—that was the only word he could use to describe the feeling. Except when he played the drums, running was the only other time his mind was free from the toxic thoughts constantly circulating like a broken record through his mind. Even on tour, he never missed his daily run. “Well, you’d be right. Do you think I could hike in this?” Right now, he craved exercise, and while he wasn’t the most social guy in the world, moving like a ghost between the Foundation and Violet’s basement apartment made him feel like a hamster going in circles.

  She shook her head. “No, but you’re about my brother’s size. I think I can find something that will fit you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “He’ll never miss it. He has more hiking shorts and shoes than a small sporting goods store. Let me grab a pair of shorts. I think your boots and t-shirt will work.”

  “I don’t know.” He didn’t feel right borrowing a stranger’s clothes, but being outside under the warm Montana sun sounded like the escape he needed from his repetitive days. Even though he grew up in Montana, he had never picked huckleberries. That was way too functional for his family.

  She poked a finger into the center of his chest. “Don’t make me go hiking by myself. What if I got lost or encountered a bear or two? I don’t want something like that weighing on your conscience.”

  It would just be one of many, he thought cynically. “All right. I wouldn’t want to find out you became bear food.”