Asher was doing his best to concentrate and familiarize himself with the files, but his mind kept wandering back to earlier today. All he could think about was that the girl from the convenience store was ponytail.
What were the odds of that? A million to one? A billion to one?
He still couldn’t actually believe that their paths had crossed again.
He felt like he was living in some alternate reality. Like this was the Twilight Zone version of his life. Or that he was in one of the horror movies that Blake liked so much. Since she was way too young to be watching horror movies, she’d loved them.
Initially, Jenna was concerned that something might be wrong since their daughter had what they both thought was an unhealthy obsession with slasher films, so she took her to a therapist who said that it was perfectly natural for Blake to enjoy watching scary movies. She explained the adrenaline rush of being scared as long as it was in a safe environment was something that a lot of people enjoyed.
Just what he needed, an adrenaline junkie daughter.
“Hey Ford,” Dorsey knocked on the door as he walked in and took a seat across from his desk. “You settling in alright?”
“Yeah.”
“I remember what a culture shock it was for me when I first got here.”
“It’s definitely different.”
Dorsey shook his head. “It’s crazy, I would have never thought I could be happy living here but now I can’t imagine living anywhere else. This town sucks you in.”
Asher didn’t quite feel sucked in yet, but he could definitely feel the pull.
“Blake seems to be doing good.” Logan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Drew said that she’s making friends. Everyone likes her.”
Speaking of everyone liking her. “What do you know about the tall kid... Noah?”
A slow smile spread on Dorsey’s face. “Drew mentioned that Noah and Blake were hanging out a lot.”
No shit. Every day when Asher picked Blake up from camp, tall kid was hanging around.
“Noah’s a good kid.” His friend leaned back in the chair. “Seriously. And he has a crazy arm. He might make it to the big leagues.”
Great. Just what Asher wanted for his daughter. A professional ball player.
Dorsey continued, “He has the talent and the discipline. The kid has a crazy work ethic. Justin, who owns Mountain Ridge with his wife Amanda, is his older brother and Noah’s there working anytime they need him. I think he might have another part time job, too. He volunteers to ref youth sports and still keeps his grades up. He’s got his head screwed on straight.”
Probably sensing his endorsement wasn’t having the desired effect, Dorsey doubled down, “I couldn’t ask for a better friend for Drew. Last year, Drew’s grades slipped a little because he was playing too many video games, and Noah helped him turn it around.”
What was this kid? A fucking saint? Asher didn’t trust anyone who people had nothing bad to say about. Not even a fifteen-year-old kid.
“I see the look,” Dorsey’s smile grew wider and pointed to Asher. “But, honestly man, you have nothing to worry about. I vouch for the kid.”
In their world of law enforcement, vouching for someone was a big deal. But oddly, that didn’t make Asher feel any better. Not with the way Blake looked up at Noah with stars in her eyes.
“Well, on that note. I’ll let you get back to it.” Dorsey stood but when he got to the doorway, he turned back. “Hey, did you sign up for the ball?”
Figuring his friend was giving him a hard time, he shot back, “Yep. And I ordered my glass slippers from Amazon. They’ll be here Wednesday.”
Dorsey chuckled. “Well, since you’re gonna be on your feet dancing for eight hours you better break ’em in first.”
His friend crossed the room and pulled a paper that Asher hadn’t noticed was sitting on top of the three-tier tray on the corner of his desk and handed it to Asher. In bold letters across the top he read, Hometown Heroes Ball and just beneath that Dance-A-Thon was printed.
“It’s a fundraiser the town puts on every year to raise funds for the police and fire departments. One year it was a bachelor auction, there was also a calendar shoot. This year it’s a twenty-four-hour Dance-A-Thon. Everybody’s signing up for eight-hour shifts.”
Asher saw that on the sign-up sheet there was a space for partner. “I have to dance with someone?”
A lopsided grin tilted on Dorsey’s face. “Something tells me you won’t have a problem getting a partner. I’m sure half the female population would line up to volunteer for that position.”
