I got up and started heading out of the bar, feeling like a million fucking bucks in that moment. I’d come back tomorrow, hit the bartender up again for information. Hell, maybe there’d be someone new and they’d be more forthcoming with the information. I couldn’t blame him for not sharing. He was protecting her. I appreciated that. But what he didn’t know was that I was in love with her. I wasn’t some predator, and I sure as fuck would never hurt her. I wanted to protect her too, with my life. I wanted to make her mine.
I’d just have to show him that, prove it. Maybe then he’d tell me more about her. Damn, maybe he’d contact her and let her know I was looking for her. Maybe she’d come to me.
I was about to walk out the front door when I looked to my right and saw a large bulletin board with a bunch of pictures tacked up on corkboard. Something made me stop, step closer to it. The pictures showed various people up onstage, singers and entertainers who had presumably played at this bar. I let my gaze move across each one, and when I stopped on one in particular, I felt my heart still in my chest, felt my belly tighten, my hands involuntarily curling into tight fists at my sides.
There she was, looking back at the camera, smiling, her beauty so fucking awe-inspiring I couldn’t breathe for a second. Her long black hair was pulled half-up, her braids hanging over her shoulders. She was surrounded by four other people, all of them standing on the podium just across from where I stood. The light was shining on her, illuminating her perfect skin, making her seem to glow.
God, she was so fucking gorgeous.
She was smiling, her straight, white teeth flashing, her lips red and plump. Everyone in the photos all wore identical uniforms. T-shirts that stated a lone word across the chest.
Lyrics. The bar I was currently in.
Her obvious place of employment.
I actually lifted my hand and placed it over my chest, felt my heart start to beat again, increase in speed. I’d found her. I looked over at the bartender, could see he was watching me with skepticism on his face. Oh, he’d tell her I was here. I had no doubt about that. I was hoping he would. Because every night, I was coming back.
I’d see her, and she’d see me, and I had no doubt in my mind that connection would be too strong for us to ignore.
4
Adele
Sunday morning
Yesterday had been my day off, and I’d done absolutely nothing. I shut off my phone, slept in, stayed in my pajamas, and tried like hell not to think about the one person who consumed my thoughts on a continuous basis.
Oliver.
I stretched in bed, then rolled over and pulled the phone charger out of the end of my cell before bringing it up and turning it on. I really didn’t disconnect from the world like this often, but with constantly working, doing singing gigs in my free time, and the thoughts running through my mind of all the what-ifs and the “why didn’t I do this or that,” I was exhausted. So I totally just wanted to unwind, unplug, and recharge.
And I felt incredible right now.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up, resting my back against the headboard of the bed, and stared at the screen of my cell as it lit up and finally turned on. I set the cell on my lap and reached out to grab a hair tie from my bedside table drawer, pulled up my braids so they were out of my face, and wrapped the tie around the thick strands. As soon as my phone was on, I heard the continuous dings of missed calls and text messages.
One was from my mother, but the rest were all from Bishop. Although I was friends with him, we didn’t normally talk outside of work. Maybe they were short-staffed and he wanted me to come in?
All his calls and texts were from last night, late, so if that was what he wanted, it was too late now.
I opened up his messages and started reading.
Bishop: Adele, some guy is here asking about you. Only knows your first name. Seems sketchy as hell to me.
Bishop: Yo, where are you?
Bishop: Why aren’t you answering?
Bishop: Told him I didn’t know anyone named Adele, but I could tell from his expression he knew I was full of shit.
Bishop: Dammit, Adele, where the fuck are you?
My heart was beating overtime as I continued reading.
Bishop: He saw the staff picture on the corkboard before he left. I could tell he recognized you right off the bat. I’m gonna kick his fucking ass if he shows back up here again.