The Billionaire Band Director

Chapter 2

    Martha stared at the hot coffee staining the man’s t-shirt.  She was too mortified to look at his face, and too shocked to move.  He had gasped when the coffee hit his chest, but he did not yell.  Hot coffee, on a hot guy, Martha thought to herself.  I cannot believe I just did that.

    “I cannot believe I just did that,” Martha repeated out loud. 

    Not the smoothest thing to say, but better than just starting at his chest in silence.  The more she stared, the less she noticed the coffee and the more she noticed the muscular build under the shirt.  The coffee made the old t-shirt cling to his body and she could see what looked to be very perfectly sculpted abs.  She felt her face start to turn red.  Well, at least he’ll think I’m red because of spilling the coffee, and not his perfect chest.

    The man chuckled a little.  “Ey, don’t worry about it, ma chere.”

    The accent threw Martha off and she looked up at his face.  Oh s**t, she thought. He’s even more gorgeous up close.  His thick dark curls fell past his ears.  Long dark eyelashes surrounded his dark brown eyes.  His lips looked soft.  Martha wanted to find out if they were as soft as they looked…

    “Are you ok?”

    Martha shook her head to focus.  Did HE just ask if SHE was ok?  After SHE spilled hot coffee all over him HIM?  Was she that obviously flustered by him?

    Martha smiled up at him.  “I’m fine.  And I am so, so sorry.  Can I get you some napkins?  Or a new shirt?”

    The man smiled back.  Martha locked her knees so she wouldn’t melt into a puddle on the floor.

    “I’ll be fine, ma chere.  May I get you a new coffee?”

    Martha couldn’t help but laugh. 

    “Aren’t you worried it’ll just end up on your shirt with my last cup?”

    The man laughed.  A light, earnest laugh.  A laugh that made something in Martha flutter.

    “I’m willing to take the risk.,” he said.

    He gestured to the barista and pointed at Martha's now empty cup.  The barista set to work getting a new cup. He kept smiling at Martha while they waited.  The barista handed the cup to the man, seeming to deliberately ignore Martha.  I don’t blame her, thought Martha.  I made a mess and look like a clumsy i***t.

    The man reached into his pocket and pulled out some money, which he handed the barista.  He took the coffee and handed it to Martha.  When his hand touched hers, she shivered.  God he’s hot.

    “You got it?” he asked Martha teasingly.

    “We’ll see… better watch out just in case” she responded, winking at him.

    i***t, she thought to herself. You’re wearing sunglasses.  He can’t see you wink.

    The man seemed to understand well enough.  He chuckled a little and took an exaggerated step backwards, bowing a little as he did.

    “Really, I feel awful,” said Martha.  “Are you sure I can’t get you a new shirt?  Or pay to get that one dry cleaned or something?”

    He laughed again.

    “No, no, don’t worry about it, ma chere.  Really.  It’s an old shirt- I only wear it for gardening.”

    Of course! Martha thought to herself.  He’s a gardener.  THAT’s why he doesn’t look like he lives here.  Martha had forgotten that in an affluent area like this the residents would have maids, gardeners, butlers, and who knows what else.  That’s what people will think Josie and I are too, she realized.

    Thinking of the handsome stranger as a gardener instead of a rich townsperson made her feel a little more comfortable, although she was still uncomfortably aware of his good looks.  Normal people just don’t look that good, she thought.   She wondered if any of the wealthy women of the town found extra gardening work just to have him around… maybe a private indoor garden that needed attention…

    Too late, Martha realized her face was growing even redder.  The stranger seemed to notice before she did, and he seemed amused by it.  Martha knew she had to get out of there.  She had somewhere to go, and it would not do to show up all hot and bothered.

    “I’m sorry, again.  So, so, sorry.  If you’re sure there’s nothing I can do…” she stammered.

    “Well, I’m not worried about the shirt, if that’s what you mean” he said with a smirk.

    “Then I have to go.  Again, so, so, so, so incredibly sorry” said Martha.

    She nearly tripped over herself in her haste to escape.  Somehow, despite all odds, she made it back to her car without spilling any more coffee. She turned the key and turned the air to full blast.  She shoved her face in front of the air vent to try to cool off.

    “Wow.  THAT was embarrassing!”

    Martha jumped in surprise and banged her head on the steering wheel.  She hadn’t noticed her mother’s ghost appearing in the passenger’s seat of the car. 

    “I know.  No comments from the peanut gallery are necessary” Martha scowled.

    Her mom just laughed.

    “I’m disappointed” said the ghost.  “Not about the coffee, hija, that could happen to anyone.  I’m embarrassed that you didn’t give him your number!”

    Martha scowled even more.  She had been too young to notice such things when her mom was still alive, so she didn’t know if her mom had always been this horny or if that was just something that happened when she died.  Either way, she was not surprised to hear her mother complain, again, about Martha’s lack of promiscuity.  Martha liked to think she thought of all people as people.  Martha’s mother thought of people, specifically men between the ages of 18 and 50, as opportunities.  For s*x.

    “Changing topics,” said Martha, “any advice for today?”

    The specter gave Martha a look.  Martha knew that look.  It was the same one Martha’s mom would have given if a 7-year-old Martha had asked to have chocolate for diner.  It was a look that said “Nice try, but no.”

    “Well, then,” said Martha, “if you’re not going to help me I guess I’m on my own.  Again.”

    Martha’s mother’s ghost looked annoyed.  She opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but instead she snapped it shut.  She then disappeared without saying another word.

    Martha had too many feelings overwhelming her to focus on how an annoying ghost was feeling.  She was worried about Josie being all by herself at the motel, she was embarrassed about what had happened with the hot guy at Starbucks, and, more than anything, she was nervous about what was about to happen.  She never wanted to do what she was about to do, but she had to think of Josie.  As Josie’s guardian, it was Martha’s job to do everything she could to give Josie the best life possible.  And sometimes, that meant doing things she would never do for herself.