Forgotten Flames

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE
Levi Green veered in the wrong direction when he should have gone the other way. But it didn't matter. Despite a forceful blow from one of the linebackers, he clung onto the ball, not allowing a single blade of grass to touch it. His reputation as the man with the most reliable hands in professional football was well-deserved.

If only his lungs could match the efficiency of his hands. The turf felt like solid concrete as his side crashed into it. It wouldn't be surprising if he had bruised a kidney. Rolling onto his back, he fought to suppress the panic that always accompanied having the wind knocked out of him. Even after playing football for more than half of his twenty-eight years, it still terrified him whenever this happened.

His teammates gathered around him, their shoulder pads and helmets almost blocking out the vibrant blue Wisconsin sky. Judging by the expressions behind their facemasks, they weren't particularly concerned about his well-being. They resembled a pack of hyenas ready to pounce on a dying gazelle, waiting for him to say something.

Or perhaps curse, most likely.

He should have anticipated that they would hit him hard to make him lose his dare. Before stepping onto the field, he had challenged them not to utter a single swear word during practice. He hadn't expected them to be so bloodthirsty. Not during the pre-season. He would have appreciated their enthusiasm if he hadn't been so preoccupied with trying to breathe.

"Jesus," he wheezed finally.

Fortunately for Levi, he hadn't included anything about using the Lord's name in vain in his dare. Not that he would mind donating twenty bucks to the local SPCA for such an offense. He was just relieved to be breathing again and grateful for the heated discussion among his teammates about the rules of the challenge.

Mostly because it gave him a chance to catch his breath.

"Dammit, you shitheads!" Garrett Kelly Gray, the Milwaukee Growlers quarterback, yelled as he pushed his way through the huddle of players surrounding Levi. "Save the brutal hits for our opponents, will ya? Take it easy on Green. He's the smallest guy in my receiving corps. I can't afford to have him injured before the season even starts."

Their teammates snickered like a group of teenagers in a sex education class. No one complained about Kelly Gray's behavior. The quarterback was all business when it came to football. And even though he would never admit it aloud, Levi was Kelly Gray's favorite receiver. That was probably why the quarterback's comment about him being the "runt" didn't bother him too much.

At least, not too much.

Levi raised his arm into the air. The ball was still securely held within his long fingers. "What I lack in size, I make up for in tenacity," he croaked. "And you owe forty bucks to the dogs and cats of Wisconsin waiting for adoption."

Kelly Gray shook his head in exasperation and snatched the ball from Levi's hand. "Put it on my tab," he said before stomping back to the line of scrimmage.

The rest of the guys chuckled as they followed their leader, leaving Levi sprawled on his back, gazing up at the cloudless late-summer sky. A hand reached down from above, blocking out the rest of the body attached to it due to the sun's glare. But Levi recognized that hand anywhere. It was the size of a T-bone steak, belonging to none other than Hall of Famer Langston Langstonington. Known simply as Langston, the Growlers' receiver coach had an impressive record for receptions during his illustrious career, something Levi could only dream of achieving.

Every day, Levi counted his lucky stars for having Langston as his mentor and coach. Most retired players with Langston's fame would have moved on to other opportunities, leaving the football field behind them. But not Langston. He loved the game too much not to share the knowledge that had made him the greatest of all time.

"I'm too ugly for 'Dancing with the Stars,'" Langston joked once.

Levi suspected that Langston's slight stammer was the real reason. But it was that very embarrassment that likely fueled his success. No doubt he had spent most of his life trying to prove himself, to show everyone that he was more than his circumstances.

Levi could relate. He knew all too well the internal demons that could drive a person to the top of their chosen profession.

"Why do you always feel the need to issue dares to everyone?" Langston asked after helping Levi to his feet.

"Just trying to build team camaraderie before the season begins," Levi replied, wincing at the pain in his side.

"Just trying to get yourself injured," Langston muttered.

Levi gave his mentor a sideways glance. Langston sighed and reached for his wallet, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill.

"What are you complaining about? I'm giving back to society," Levi said, reaching for the money. His grin transformed into a grimace due to the movement.

The coach looked at him questioningly.

"It's nothing."

"Mmmhmm," Langston replied. "Go see the trainer so that 'nothing' doesn't turn into something. And stay out of Coach Gibson's way. He's had enough of your antics today."

Forty-five minutes and some intense stretching and ultrasound treatment later, Levi was surprised to find so many of his teammates still lingering in the locker room. The team's young punter, Elijah Parker, stood at the center, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Dude, whatever you do, make sure the diamond is genuine," one of the guys advised. "Women have a sixth sense when it comes to that stuff. They can spot a fake from a mile away."

"Yeah, but be careful it's not one of those blood diamonds," another teammate chimed in. "You don't want the woke mob coming after you.""What the hell is a woke mob?" Steve Jacobs, the seasoned veteran of the Growlers receiving corps, questioned as he joined Parker, placing a supportive arm around the punter's shoulder.

"Stick with me, kid," Jacobs offered, pointing to the diamond studs adorning his ears. "I know a guy who can help you out."

"Ears pierced, Parker?" Levi called from his locker, changing into his street clothes. "Better bring someone to hold your hand. Remember how you nearly fainted when we got flu shots last year?"

Laughter erupted in the room.

Kelly Gray chimed in, "Even worse, it seems our boy is getting married."

Levi wasn't surprised. Parker's college girlfriend had practically been part of the team last season, despite being back in Oklahoma finishing school. The mention of rings and vows ignited a familiar pang of jealousy in Levi's gut. "She after your money or did you knock her up?" he blurted out, unable to control his anger.

The locker room fell silent, tension thickening the air.

Shit.

Levi's filter always failed him in situations like this. No matter how much therapy he had, he couldn't hide his emotions. He needed to do better.

His teammates stared at him, shocked. Levi was known as the affable peace-maker of the Growlers. Teasing was one thing, but insulting his teammates crossed a line.

"Sorry, Parker," Levi quickly apologized, backpedaling. "That was a dickhead thing to say. Must have hit my head too hard during that tackle. Congratulations. Shaina's a lucky girl."

After a long pause, the chatter about diamonds resumed in the locker room. Levi finished dressing, keeping his mouth shut. Kelly Gray gave him a disapproving look from across the aisle.

"What?" Levi snapped.

The quarterback shook his head.

"Kelly Gray is speechless because usually, he's the one dissing marriage," Declan Dillon, the Growler placekicker, chimed in from his chair beside the quarterback. "You're not usually sour on matrimony."

Levi wasn't sour on matrimony. Well, not most of it. Just one marriage, or rather, one "non" marriage. But he didn't need his teammates psychoanalyzing him. He paid a professional to do that.

"Just trying and failing at making a joke," Levi offered as an excuse. "Didn't want you guys tearing each other apart over stupid diamonds."

It was a weak excuse, and the silent exchange between the other two men made it clear they knew it too. Levi needed to change the narrative.

"The ring is important, Parker," Levi called out. "But have you thought about the proposal?"

The locker room turned their attention to Levi, curiosity and suspicion etched on their faces.

"No, haven't gotten that far," Parker replied. "Thought I'd ask Dillon for help."

Laughter erupted once more.

"Dillon? No way," Levi shouted above the noise. "The guy never proposed. His marriage was arranged in his lawyer's office to avoid deportation back to Scotland."

Dillon shrugged. "Aye, it's true. But it worked out. I'm still with the team, happily married now, and we've got a baby on the way."

Levi shook his head. "Shaina will want something more. A grand gesture. Leave it to me. I'll help you out. We'll give her a proposal that'll make social media jealous."

Parker's face lit up with excitement. "Hell yeah! Shaina loves being an influencer."

Kelly Gray snorted, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder. "Better check his references first, Parker. How many times has Green proposed to anyone?"

"Yeah," Jacobs chimed in. "Since when did you become the Love Doctor? You choose women like you're ticking boxes on a checklist. Chemistry means nothing to you. Have you even picked out your Seasonal Arm Candy yet?"

Maximus Morris, the rookie receiver, snorted in disbelief. "'Seasonal Arm Candy?'"

"That's what I said, McGruff," Jacobs deliberately mispronounced the rookie's name, determined to haze the young player who threatened his position as the team's return man. "Get your ears checked, Crime Dog."

Kelly Gray took pity on the rookie. "Around this time of year, Green picks one woman to be his main squeeze for the season. She has to meet certain requirements he keeps to himself. But once he picks her, he sticks with her no matter what. Probably so he can focus on his game without the distractions of club-hopping for a booty call."

"It's not like that," Levi protested.

Well, maybe it was a little like that.

Minus the booty-call part. He had more respect for women than his teammates gave him credit for. But his dating habits were genuine, and it wasn't their business.

And Kelly Gray wasn't one to talk. He only dated women who could further his political career aspirations after football. Last season, he'd dated a senator's daughter—a smart, gorgeous, manipulative woman who tried to break up Dillon's marriage.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Morris interjected. "What if after a few dates, she's not worth the effort?"

Kelly Gray shrugged. "The thing about Green is once he's made up his mind, he never backs down. Not even if she takes food off his plate."

Laughter filled the locker room once again."Ohh," one of Levi's teammates exclaimed, drawing the attention of the rest. "Remember the one with the laugh like a mule?" His braying laughter echoed through the locker room, causing several of the guys to double over.

"Or the one who never had an opinion about anything," another guy chimed in.

"Switzerland," the teammates chorused in unison.

"Blonde, blue-eyed, and cold," someone added, eliciting a few chuckles.

"What about the tennis player who grunted like she was serving every time they had sex?" another player blurted out.

Whoa.

That had to be a lucky guess, because there was no way he'd told anyone that.

"So, who's it gonna be this year, Green?" Parker asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

"And don't say you haven't picked her yet," Jacobs added. "Regular season starts next week."

Levi's teammates were like a bunch of gossiping old ladies. He shouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they were right. But deep down, he knew he had nothing to hide. He may have been a bit Machiavellian when it came to his personal life, but he had good reason to be.

Outperform the negative.

"The morning meteorologist from Channel 11," he answered, seeing no need to avoid the inevitable. They were going to find out this weekend anyway. He had invited her to the team's season kickoff picnic.

Levi's announcement was met with a concert of wolf whistles and playful hollering.

"The one you act a fool with every Tuesday during your dog adoption pleas?" Dillon asked.

Levi simply nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The striking blonde was the ideal choice. She was comfortable in the limelight, intelligent, and, best of all, not needy. She fit all his qualifications perfectly. Especially the one about it not hurting when she eventually left him for someone else. He'd already had too much heartache in his life. That's why he made it a point to date women with one foot out the door. Women who weren't necessarily interested in a committed relationship. They were either focused on their careers or on landing someone else. Someone with more to give.

Love didn't fit into his qualifications. Ever.

"Hot damn, man," Jacobs crowed. "I'm pretty sure half the male population of this city wakes up to that woman, if you know what I mean."

The guffaws grew louder, but Levi shook his head. Life in a locker room could get pretty raunchy some days, but there were certain subjects Levi couldn't stomach. Growing up in a house with two women, he'd had the lesson about not objectifying the female sex drilled into him since birth.

"Let's show some respect, assholes," he said firmly, his voice cutting through the noise. He grabbed his gym bag and headed towards the exit.

He was nearly to his car when he noticed Morris trailing behind him. Levi tapped the key fob, unlocking his Ford Dually pickup.

"Something on your mind, Tony-O?" Levi asked, using the handle the media had dubbed Morris during his playing days at LSU.

"Yeah. What's up with Jacobs? Why has he got it out for me?" Morris inquired, a hint of frustration in his voice.

Levi dumped his duffel in the back seat before turning to face the rookie. Here was a guy with more natural athletic talent in his pinkie finger than Levi would possess in his entire life. The kid had the potential to become a legend in the game. And with Langston Langstonington guiding him, that was likely going to happen.

He should resent the rookie. Morris would almost certainly take away some—if not many—of Levi's receptions as the season progressed. And it royally pissed him off that he had to work ten times as hard as the rookie to stay in the league. But Levi had always been a team player. It's what made coaches keep him on the squad.

Outperform the negative.

But that didn't mean other players wouldn't be resentful. Especially a receiver whose legs had ten more years' worth of miles on them. Like Jacobs. Nope. That particular veteran was not going to go easy on the pup.

Levi crossed his arms over his chest, adopting a serious expression. "Welcome to primetime, Morris. Up until now, your teammates worshipped the ground you walked on. You were the star of the show. The reason they won. Here, everyone is playing at a high level. You can be a threat to a guy's bank accounts. You get what I'm saying? Suck it up. Play hard every down, and the respect will come. You'll see."

The rookie's face hardened, his jaw clenching. He sucked in a breath before turning to glare back at the building. "I don't need a stinking fan club, Green. I know how good I am. All I'm asking for is some damn hospitality, that's all. This team is one huge fucking clique."

And with that, Morris stormed off, leaving Levi standing there, contemplating their conversation.

Parker jogged over, curiosity etched on his face. "What's eating him?"

"A bad case of rookie anxiety," Levi replied, offering a sympathetic smile.

"Huh. I never really felt that last year," Parker mused.

Levi chuckled. "That's because you were our punter, for better or worse."

"Speaking of for better or worse," Parker said, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. "Were you serious about helping me with the proposal?"

Levi wanted to say no, but he'd already opened his stupid mouth. And he had been rude to the guy. "Sure. You need to come up with a grand gesture, and I'll help you execute it."

The air deflated from Parker's grin. "I was kind of hoping you'd come up with something."

Figures. If it didn't involve a ball, Parker didn't have much of an imagination. Levi let out a sigh. "Okay, but I'm going to need a bit more to go on. I'll need to know what Shaina likes."

"Let's go putt a few balls, and I'll tell you all about my best girl," Parker suggested.

The punter was obsessed with the game of golf. He spent all his free time on the course. Levi wondered if the dude knew that marriage would likely curtail that activity.

Not his problem.

"No can do," Levi replied, climbing into the driver's seat. "I promised my Gram I'd stop by today." It was a lie, but he didn't want to spend the entire afternoon listening to Parker wax poetic about his fiancée. He'd chat up Shaina to get some ideas when he saw her this weekend. "See you at the picnic."

Driving away from the practice facility, he decided a visit with his Grandma Margaret wasn't a bad idea. He'd moved her from Boise and into the Sunset Glen senior living community last week. Every time he called, she claimed to be acclimating just fine. Rather than take her word for it, he'd go see for himself.

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO
"Clara paid me a visit this morning. She was on the hunt for you," Margaret's best friend revealed, causing her to stumble momentarily. She quickly recovered, adjusting the leash with one hand while scanning her surroundings for any witnesses to her clumsiness. Thankfully, the walking trail around her grandparents' senior community was deserted. She pressed the cellphone back to her ear, eager to hear more.

"She genuinely seemed taken aback by your sudden departure," Ruby continued.

Margaret scoffed in response. "Oh, come on, Ruby. I didn't just up and leave without a trace. Clara knows exactly where to find me. I'm pretty sure she even has my address saved in her car's GPS." She tugged at the leash, but the stubborn little black French bulldog refused to move. The pup was fixated on a butterfly gracefully fluttering above some liriope. "Are you sure you only weigh fifteen pounds?" Margaret grumbled under her breath.

"I don't think she believed you had it in you to actually go through with it. Honestly, I had my doubts too," Ruby confessed.

"What? You were the one who pushed me to do it. You practically kicked me out!" Margaret retorted.

Ruby's tone turned defensive. "That's not how it went down. I simply told you to stop wallowing in self-pity while devouring pints of Ben and Jerry's ice cream and listening to Adele. Three months spent moping on the sofa wasn't doing you any favors. I never suggested you run off to Milwaukee and take up a substitute teaching job at our grandparents' old elementary school."

"You would've had to kick me out eventually. Besides, I ran out of money," Margaret reminded her.

"No one told you to give away all your YouTube earnings," Ruby shot back.

"I didn't deserve that money in the first place," Margaret muttered, finally managing to pull Milli away from the butterfly. However, the dog's attention shifted as she spotted a squirrel and took off after it. The squirrel swiftly climbed up a nearby tree, leaving Milli barking at its retreat. Margaret nearly twisted her ankle trying to keep up with the energetic pup. "Well, at least I'm not stuck on the sofa anymore," she huffed.

Although, truth be told, the sofa did sound quite appealing in that moment. How could such a tiny dog possess so much strength? And why was she so out of breath? Margaret glanced down at her sweatpants, realizing that none of her shorts seemed to fit properly. Maybe Ruby had a point about the three months of Ben and Jerry's indulgence.

"Margaret," Ruby's voice softened. "All I meant was that you needed to move forward and find your next chapter. I never meant for you to leave Chicago. I could've supported you financially. Besides, there are substitute teaching opportunities here. And if you spoke to Principal Kliphuis, I'm certain she could find something for you at Preston while you figure things out."

Six years ago, Margaret and Ruby had embarked on their teaching careers together at Preston Academy, a prestigious private school in the suburban town of Oak Brook, just outside of Chicago. The two women had become fast friends during their time at Northwestern University and decided to become roommates when they started teaching. Their friendship had only grown stronger since then.

"I can't go back there," Margaret's heart quickened at the thought, recalling the farewell party the staff had thrown for her. She had shamelessly boasted that she would remember each and every one of them once she achieved fame and fortune. But the truth was, she hadn't achieved anything significant. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she relived the memories. There was no way she would return to the school like a defeated dog with its tail between its legs. "They've already found someone to replace me."

Ruby groaned. "That man is insufferable. Did you know he insists on being called Dr. Dixon by everyone, including the staff? But behind his back, they all call him Dr. Dick. It's only a matter of time before someone says it to his face."

A laugh escaped Margaret before she could stifle it. She knew she shouldn't feel smug that her replacement wasn't as well-liked as she had been, but there was a certain satisfaction in knowing that her popularity hadn't been easily replicated. "In his defense, he does have a doctorate in music. Not to mention his years of experience playing in various orchestras," she admitted, swallowing the pang of envy that rose in her throat.

"I give him a year," Ruby declared confidently. "It won't take long for his ego to clash with one of the parents. And you know how the board bends over backwards for those who pay the tuition. At least you won't have to worry about pleasing a board of directors in a public school."

"I don't think I'll have to worry about too much parental involvement either," Margaret replied. "Not a single parent stopped by the music room during the open house today."

"Exactly. That's just another reason why you're wasting your talents there. Don't those people realize who is teaching their children?" Ruby exclaimed.

Margaret shook her head. If she truly possessed any talent, she wouldn't be walking her grandmother's dog in Milwaukee. She would be in Vienna, pursuing her dreams.

"It's serendipitous, Ruby. My grandmother dedicated the best years of her life to that school. These days, music is considered a luxury in most public elementary schools," Margaret explained earnestly. "The principal had to fight to secure funding for a long-term substitute when the regular music teacher went on maternity leave. The school board would rather let the program die and allocate the money elsewhere. My grandmother has already lost so much. I can't let her legacy fade away."

Ruby let out a sympathetic sigh. "I understand. How is Grandma Rosamund doing?"

"As well as can be expected. She seems content here. The community is lovely, and they take excellent care of her. Having Grandpa around helps too. He doesn't live in the memory care building with her, but his apartment is nicer than most in Chicago. They have their own gym, a barber shop, a card room, and even a bar. Plus, he gets two meals a day at the restaurant. He's living the good life," Margaret replied.

Just then, Milli chose that precise moment to relieve herself beneath a rhododendron. Margaret released the leash, allowing her to retrieve the plastic bag she had brought along.She winced as she tugged the bag over her fingers and snatched the still-steaming heap.

"Disgusting," she muttered, grateful for the scented bags she had bought from the pet store.

The small dog sat on the grass, proudly observing the gift she had left behind. Her perky black nose lifted slightly in the air, while her stubby tail swished through the blades of grass.

"Tu es un bon chien, Milli," Margaret praised her.

"Are you speaking French to that dog?" Ruby asked, sounding as though she thought Margaret had lost her mind.

It was a possibility.

"Milli Chanel is a purebred French bulldog. It's only fitting that I speak to her in her native tongue."

"This is exactly what I was afraid of," Ruby said. "You've only been living with the Princess for a week, and her pretentiousness is already rubbing off on you."

"The 'Princess' is my cousin, Summer. We may be close in age, but our personalities are worlds apart. When we were both students at Northwestern, people used to say that Summer should have been named Margaret Thompson. She's the bubbly, sunny one, always the life of the party. I, on the other hand, am more of a hurricane run amok. A clumsy klutz who hides behind her dark hair and coffee-colored eyes."

"What's it like sharing a house with her?" Ruby continued.

Margaret explained how both she and Summer found themselves in need of a place to live at the same time. Summer's now ex-boyfriend took a job in New York, leaving her broken-hearted and homeless in Milwaukee. Their grandfather offered his Craftsman bungalow, where both girls' fathers had grown up, as a rent-free refuge for six months. It was a win-win situation for everyone.

"It's not that bad. I have many fond memories of being in that house with my grandparents. It's like slipping on an old pair of jeans," Margaret replied. "And Summer's work schedule is so crazy. She spends the rest of her time working out or getting some sort of beauty treatment. I won't see her that often."

"Is she still crying over Josh leaving her?"

"Surprisingly, no. She's already found someone new. Someone she claims will keep her in the public eye."

Ruby snorted. "As long as she remains the center of her universe."

"As long as her ego gets fed, you mean. That's the only way I'll be able to survive six months living with her."

"And then you're coming back home?"

"That's the plan. I promised Clara. I'll be taking the LSAT in November, and she's arranged an internship for me in the courts while I apply to law school."

"But is that what you truly want?"

Margaret swallowed hard. "My mother is right," she said softly. "I'm not meant to be a serious musician. I need to move forward with my life. Besides, I've always wanted to be a lawyer, just like my parents. Teaching at Preston was only supposed to be a way to spend my gap year before law school. I got sidetracked, that's all." She sighed. "My mom is one of the most respected judges in the city. That's not a bad pedigree. People always tell me I look just like her. Why not follow in her footsteps?"

"I mean this in the best possible way," Ruby said. "But you are nothing like your mother. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you and Summer were somehow switched at birth because your cousin is more like Clara in personality than you are."

Margaret wanted to argue, to explain that it hadn't always been this way. But she realized that Milli was no longer by her side. "Oh my god. I've lost my grandmother's dog. I'll call you back." She hurried along the path, shouting, "Milli!" but it came out more like a strangled wheeze. Her lungs burned as she pushed her out-of-shape body to move faster.

She couldn't lose the dog. Milli was the only connection to Grandma Rosamund's fading memories. Margaret feared that if the dog disappeared, so would her grandmother.

Struggling to run in flip-flops, she barely managed to round the corner of the path. It opened up into a large grassy area in front of the parking lot for the independent living apartments. Up ahead, a massive dog was growling menacingly at something. Margaret screamed when she realized the beast was on top of Milli.

"Get off her!"

She reached into her pocket, pulled out her keys, and pressed the alarm meant to protect herself from an attack. The high-pitched siren startled the big dog, causing it to jump away with a yelp. Margaret scooped up Milli and held her tightly. The tiny dog trembled, barking and struggling against Margaret's grasp, foolishly trying to get to her attacker.

The bulky mutt approached them, determined to finish what it had started. It licked its chops, and Margaret froze. The beast bearing down on her was a pit bull. A few years back, a student at Preston had been mauled by one of those dogs. The poor child lost an ear.

Now, Margaret was trembling for a different reason.

"Monty!" a man yelled from the parking lot.

The large dog took two more steps toward Margaret before turning and sprinting toward the male voice. Margaret let out a breath that sounded more like a sob than she would have liked. Milli whimpered in her arms.

"It's okay, mon petite. That big bad dog won't hurt you again."

Milli gave her a look that was more miffed than relieved. Fickle animal. Some girls just didn't know what was good for them.

The man responsible for the beast approached from the parking lot. Margaret found herself trembling, but this time for an entirely different reason. Of course, the guy had to be ridiculously attractive. Thankfully, Margaret had put some effort into her appearance today, thinking she'd have a line of parents rushing to the music room to meet her. She had even applied mascara and lip gloss.Unfortunately, the sweatpants and oversized T-shirt she changed into after school made her look like a dumpy circus clown. It was a far cry from the stylish outfits she used to wear, but Margaret had long given up on impressing anyone. She had retreated into a shell of comfortable clothes and solitude, shielding herself from the judgmental eyes of the world.

As she walked along the trail, lost in her own thoughts, Margaret's attention was abruptly pulled away by the sight of a man and his dog. The beast's owner wasn't much taller than she was, but his physique was undeniably impressive. His Boise State T-shirt clung to his chest, showcasing his well-toned muscles. Margaret couldn't help but notice the pair of nicely muscled calves peeking out from his neon blue basketball shorts. However, it was his backward baseball cap that caught her eye the most. Margaret had always found that look ridiculous, but on this guy, it seemed strangely attractive.

The man wore a pair of reflective wraparound sunglasses, obscuring his eyes from view. Margaret couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity, wanting to see the eyes hidden behind those shades. His clean-shaven square jaw and perfectly straight, white teeth added to his overall appeal.

"Sorry 'bout that, eh. There's usually no one walking on the trail," he said, breaking the silence. "I hope Monty didn't frighten you."

Frighten her? His dog had terrified her. But Margaret wasn't about to admit that to him. Instead, she mustered up some courage and replied, "Your dog violated Milli."

The man responded with a slow, devastating smile that made Margaret weak at the knees. It was clear that both man and dog considered themselves lady killers.

"Now, Monty, I told you to at least buy the ladies a drink first," he said, tugging on the dog's ear. Monty leaned against him, grunting in satisfaction.

Annoyed by his flippant remark, Margaret ground her teeth. "That's disgusting. No wonder your dog has despicable manners. There are leash laws around here. Especially for dogs like yours."

"Whoa," the guy raised both hands, palms out. He had a leash dangling from his fingers. "I apologize. I shouldn't have made a joke. It was offensive. And you're absolutely right about the leash laws." He bent over and snapped the leash to Monty's collar, muttering something about his funny bone being broken. "He's been cooped up all day, and, like I said, there's usually no one out here this time of the afternoon."

Clutching Milli tighter, Margaret retorted, "Well, we were out here this afternoon."

She couldn't help but notice how starchy she sounded. How had she become so high and mighty? She had always prided herself on being the cool teacher, giving every student a second chance. But here she was, acting like a stuck-up old lady.

The sexy smile disappeared from the man's face. Margaret couldn't blame him. She was being a bitch.

"Yeah, I sincerely apologize," he said. "Monty was neutered by the shelter before I adopted him. He still gets a bit frisky when he sees a pretty girl, though. He's harmless otherwise. Not all Pitties live up to their bad rap." He rubbed the dog's head. "This one is blind in one eye and afraid of loud noises. He'd rather lick you to death than bite you."

Margaret felt like the biggest fool. She had never been much of a dog person, but that didn't excuse her behavior. How was she to know Monty was harmless? And why should she doubt this guy's word?

Squaring her shoulders, Margaret tightened her grip on Milli and walked past them, giving the man and his dog a wide berth. "All the same, he should be leashed. I'd prefer not to be licked to death, either. Lord knows where that tongue has been."

The man simply nodded as she swept past him.

"There you are." Her grandfather's voice broke through her thoughts. "Fred said he heard someone yelling for Milli. Everything okay?"

No, everything was not okay. Margaret was speaking French to her grandmother's dog and acting like a prudish old lady in front of a stranger. She was losing her cool, and she knew it.

"Everything's fine, Papa Reed," she lied. "Milli took off after a squirrel while I was picking up her poop." She realized she was no longer holding the bag. "Oh. I must have dropped it when I was chasing her."

"I'll pick it up," the man offered. "We are headed that way for a quick run."

Margaret sighed in defeat. She had hoped the guy had already moved on, allowing her to put the embarrassing incident behind her.

"Thank you, son," her grandfather replied.

At eighty-one, Reed Thompson was still a vibrant and broad-shouldered man. His thick gray hair crowned the same sparkling blue eyes as his granddaughter, Summer. The former P.E. teacher laughed loud and often, addressing everyone under fifty as either son or sweetheart. He got away with it because everybody adored Papa Reed.

"Hold on," Papa Reed continued. "I know who you are. You're Margaret's grandson. She's been bragging about you all week. Of course, most of the folks here are already big fans of yours."

Big fans? Margaret was suddenly intrigued by the man standing in front of her. That sexy smile had transformed into a gracious smile, reserved for his "big fans." She couldn't help but wonder who he really was.

"Margaret and I have been having a fine time getting acclimated to this place," Papa Reed said. "I only moved in a few weeks before she did. And you don't have to worry about a thing. I've been looking in on her. I'm across the hall if she ever needs anything."

Margaret ignored the slight squeeze in her heart at the thought of her grandfather spending time with another woman. It didn't mean anything. Papa Reed had given up his home to be with his wife of nearly sixty years. He was just being his usual friendly self to this Margaret woman.

"I appreciate it," the man replied. "Most of her friends in Boise had moved or were... gone. It's a big deal, her moving to Milwaukee. I'm hoping she'll have more social interaction here. All I want is for her to be safe and to enjoy life."

Well, Margaret thought, maybe it was time to let go of her reservations and give this new chapter of her life a chance.Her heart clenched again because, wow, that was actually quite touching. He had a soft spot for dogs and took care of his grandmother. Margaret couldn't help but feel even more ashamed of her earlier snobbishness.

Margaret's gaze wandered to his lips. There was a mischievousness about them, as if they were holding back a grin that could burst forth at any moment. Just minutes ago, she couldn't wait to escape this man's presence. Now, however, she found herself drawn in by his smile, wanting to uncover all his hidden secrets.

But it was too late. He was already jogging away with Monty by his side. Margaret shook her head firmly. This guy wasn't going to share his secrets, or anything else, with her. He probably thought she was a terrible person and couldn't run away fast enough. She doubted she would ever see him again.

"I wish you'd reconsider joining the band, Sunshine," Papa Reed said as they walked towards the memory care building.

He had been calling her by that silly nickname since she was a little girl. As she grew older, she suspected he used it just to annoy Clara. Her mother always complained that the name "Margaret" was too whimsical, and she must have been out of her mind to let her husband give their daughter such a name. According to her mom, no one would take the child seriously. Whenever Papa Reed called her Sunshine in front of her mom, he would wink at Margaret as if they shared a secret joke.

"It would be a great way for you to meet new people, helping out with the band," he continued.

For thirty-five years, her grandfather and his friends played in a makeshift pep band for the Growlers, Milwaukee's professional football team. Unfortunately, most of the other band members were in the same boat. The only "people" Margaret would meet were likely toothless and in bed by nine.

She linked her arm through her grandfather's. "I appreciate it, but I'm only here temporarily. I need to spend most of my free time studying for the LSAT."

Her grandfather opened his mouth, probably about to make some comment about law school. She was grateful he still supported her dreams, but it was futile. Margaret had already made up her mind. She was done dreaming.

Before Papa Reed could speak, she interjected, "Besides, I wouldn't want to break anyone's heart when I go back to Chicago."

Papa Reed snorted, seeing right through her charade. "Not everyone in the band is an old geezer like me. Just so you know, the director is only thirty. And he's single. And a firefighter. I know how you ladies can't resist a man in uniform. Plus, I already told him all about you."

"Papa Reed!"

"Relax. I just mentioned that you're a whiz at arranging music. He said he would love any help he could get. Nobody's saying you have to marry the guy." He winked at her. "Or binge-watch Netflix and chill with him."

Margaret nearly stumbled for the second time that afternoon. "Please tell me you don't actually know what that means."

Her grandfather suddenly had a smug smile on his face. "I may be old, but I'm not dead, missy. And I thought you might enjoy having someone else to hang out with besides your cousin."

When he put it that way, Margaret couldn't help but agree. Anything to avoid getting sucked into Summer's orbit was a win in her book. Papa Reed knew both his granddaughters too well.

"You're a wonderful man, you know that?"

He held open the door to her grandmother's apartment. "It comes with the territory of being a grandfather."

Milli leaped from Margaret's arms and settled right into Grandma Rosamund's lap. Her grandmother sat in a chair by the window, cradling the dog gently in her weathered hands. She wore pink slacks and a matching blouse. Her white hair was neatly pinned up, showcasing her ever-present pearl earrings. Despite her illness, her grandmother always insisted on looking presentable.

The sound of her grandmother's laughter filled the room, causing Margaret to sigh with delight. This was the silver lining of working in Milwaukee. She could take care of the two people who had guided her through the toughest times in her life. Things may not have gone her way three months ago, but being able to spend the next couple of months with her grandmother was the perfect consolation.

"Oh, there's my favorite girl," Grandma Rosamund said to the dog. "Thank you for bringing her to tea, Grayson."

Except for that part.

It still took Margaret's breath away when her grandmother called her husband by her son's name. Especially since that particular son—Margaret's father—had been gone for almost eighteen years. She glanced at Papa Reed, but he didn't react. Instead, he made his way over to his wife, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.

What would her father look like today if he were still alive? Margaret liked to imagine that the man who used to toss her in the air would still be as handsome and vibrant as Papa Reed was in his fifties. He would certainly be just as kind.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she pushed aside her sadness at being erased from her grandmother's memory and stepped into the role that was their reality now.

"It's lovely to see you, Clara." The forced smile in her grandmother's faded blue eyes told Margaret that she didn't find it lovely at all.

Not that Margaret enjoyed being mistaken for her mother. It wasn't until Alzheimer's took hold that she realized how much Grandma Rosamund disapproved of Clara. Her grandmother had always been polite to her daughter-in-law, at least in Margaret's presence. Clearly, Margaret wasn't the only one who had issues with her mother. If only they could compare notes.

Straightening her shoulders, she pushed aside her heartbreak at being forgotten and assumed the role that was her family's new normal.

"You look beautiful today, Rosamund."

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE
Margaret poured herself a second glass of wine, relishing in the fact that she had made it through her first week in Milwaukee. As she raised her glass to toast herself in the reflection of the oven door, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

"What did you say?" called Summer from the other bedroom, the one they used to share when they visited their grandparents.

Margaret's cousin had claimed the larger room, arguing that she had more belongings than Margaret. Since Margaret had left most of her stuff back in Chicago, she didn't put up much of a fight. Besides, arguing with Summer was like running in circles. The thing about Summer was that, despite her egocentric nature, she was genuinely nice to everyone. It was impossible to say no to her. And everyone knew it. Summer had the world wrapped around her finger.

Ruby and Margaret had spent years trying to figure out how Summer did it. She was well aware of her beauty and intelligence, but instead of using it to dominate others, especially women, she treated everyone as if they were her best friend. It was no wonder that viewers adored her on television.

"Oh, I was just talking to Milli," Margaret replied, referring to the dog lying on the living room dog bed.

At the sound of her name, Milli lifted her head and looked at Margaret, as if sensing that she needed to play along.

"Cover for me," Margaret mouthed to the dog, feeling slightly ridiculous for conspiring with a pet.

"Did Grandma ask about me?" Summer called out.

Ironically, and not surprisingly, their grandmother Rosamund only seemed to remember Summer among her five grandchildren. Every weekday morning, she would wake up to watch Summer deliver the weather forecast on TV.

"She was wondering why you weren't on this morning," Margaret replied.

"Well, she knows I don't do weekends," Summer said dismissively.

Except their grandmother didn't know that. She had lost all concept of days of the week due to her Alzheimer's. Summer claimed that she didn't want to remember Grandma Rosamund in this state, so she rarely visited her. She chose to remain ignorant about Alzheimer's to spare herself the pain.

Margaret took a sip of her wine, contemplating the different ways people dealt with difficult situations.

"Are you excited about school starting next week?" Summer asked. "It can't be that different from what you're used to."

But it was different. At Preston, music played a significant role in shaping well-rounded students. Parents willingly paid fees that included money for top-notch musical instruments and recording equipment. However, at Margaret's new school, many of her students couldn't afford to rent instruments for band or orchestra. The school had a small collection of donated instruments for them to borrow, but upon inspecting them over the weekend, Margaret realized that most of them were in terrible condition. They were missing parts, broken, or simply worn out.

When Margaret approached the principal about the issue, she received nothing more than a dismissive response. The principal suggested that if Margaret could convince her famous cousin to participate in the school's career day, she would try to find additional funds for instruments from other accounts. It took a moment for Margaret to realize that career day at her new school would be vastly different from the one at Preston. There, parents eagerly shared stories of their fabulous careers as cardiologists, professional athletes, or restaurateurs. They even had a network news anchor visit last year.

Considering the lack of parental involvement she witnessed during back-to-school day, Margaret doubted there would be many volunteers for career day. Having the local meteorologist, Summer, attend would be a major win for the school. It seemed like a mutually beneficial situation for the Thompson cousins. Summer would enjoy an afternoon of adoration, and Margaret would hopefully secure funds to repair and replenish the school's instruments.

Margaret made her way down the hall into Summer's bedroom. Clothes were scattered all over her cousin's bed as she tried on different outfits and discarded them.

"I thought you were going to a picnic?" Margaret asked.

Summer rolled her eyes at Margaret's reflection in the mirror. "It's not just any picnic. It's hosted by the owner of the Milwaukee Growlers. The whole team and their families will be there. You wouldn't believe how glamorous those WAGs dress. It's the place to be seen this weekend."

"WAGs?" Margaret questioned.

"Wives and girlfriends," Summer clarified. "Technically, I'm more of a girlfriend right now." She grinned and shrugged. "But who knows what the future holds."

"In that case, you'd be a WAD. Wives and dates," Margaret joked, chuckling at her own wit.Summer narrowed her eyes, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. "Not funny," she said, her voice laced with a hint of irritation. She pulled a sky-blue sundress over her head, her reflection in the mirror capturing her attention as she smoothed down the skirt with her palms.

Margaret's compliment was genuine; the dress did look nice on Summer. Thanks to her mother's side of the family and her dedication to fitness, everything seemed to suit her effortlessly. But Margaret had ulterior motives for her praise.

"You think so?" Summer asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"It's perfect," Margaret replied, a touch of enthusiasm in her voice. "Understated but very classy."

A smile tugged at the corners of Summer's lips as she bounced up on her toes. "It is, isn't it? Thank you for helping me decide." She skipped over to Margaret, wrapping her arms around her cousin's neck in a tight embrace. "This is going to be so much fun living together. It's almost like we're sisters."

Margaret returned the hug, silently hoping that this time, their relationship would truly resemble that of sisters.

"Hey, I have a favor to ask," Margaret began, her tone shifting to a more serious one. "I'm trying to fit in among the staff at the school. The principal asked if I would invite you to speak at career day."

Summer groaned, dropping her arms from Margaret's shoulders. "Ugh. Papa Reed asks me that every year."

"He does? Then why don't you do it?" Margaret inquired, genuinely curious.

"Because the only other time I spoke to kids, it was a bunch of kindergartners who had just polished off cupcakes after a birthday party. Unbeknownst to the woman who was substituting that day, one of the kids had a gluten allergy."

"Uh, oh," Margaret murmured sympathetically.

"Yeah. The kid hurled all over my Marc Jacobs boots. And then..." Summer trailed off, lifting her hand to cover her mouth.

Margaret didn't need any further explanation. She knew exactly what came next. Summer had a weak stomach; the sound of someone being sick was enough to make her sick as well. "Say no more."

"It was humiliating," Summer whispered, her voice filled with embarrassment. "Kids screaming and crying. I lost my lunch all over a rug shaped like a dinosaur that one of the moms had made."

Well, as excuses go, it was certainly a valid one. But there was no guarantee that history wouldn't repeat itself this time. Margaret decided to try another approach.

"My Swarovski tear drop earrings would look great with that dress," Margaret suggested with a hint of persuasion.

Summer looked up from the pile of shoes she was rummaging through in her closet. "Is that a genuine offer, or are you trying to bribe me?"

"Both," Margaret admitted, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Is it working?"

Her cousin plopped down on the bed, slipping on a pair of Steve Madden wedge heels. Margaret joined her, leaning her head on Summer's shoulder.

"Come on, Liz," Margaret pleaded softly, using Summer's childhood nickname. "Do it for Grandma Rosamund. You know how much the school means to her. And Papa Reed is letting us live here rent-free. It's the least we can do to show our gratitude."

Summer grumbled under her breath, clearly unhappy with the situation. "There's no 'we' here."

"I'll accompany you on the recorder to drown out any sounds the kids might make. I can play some weather-themed music," Margaret offered, trying to sweeten the deal.

Summer burst into laughter. "That I'd like to see."

"Then you'll do it?" Margaret pressed, her voice filled with hope.

Her cousin sighed dramatically, giving in to the persuasive power of family obligations. "I guess. If it means you and Papa Reed will stop asking. But I want every kid vetted for stomach issues before I get there."

Margaret couldn't contain her excitement, throwing her arms around Summer's shoulders. She would have spilled her wine if she hadn't already drained the glass. "Grandma will be so proud of us."

"Don't forget you promised me earrings," Summer reminded her, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Right," Margaret said, swaying slightly as she popped up too quickly. "BRB."

She hurried into her room to retrieve the earrings, but just as she was about to return to Summer, the doorbell rang. Panic washed over Summer, who was still in the midst of getting ready.

"Oh no," Summer cried. "I'm not ready yet." She snatched the earrings from Margaret's hand. "You have to stall him. I still need to finish my hair."

Margaret glanced down at her attire, realizing she wasn't exactly dressed to greet anyone, let alone a hot jock. Her baggy flannel boxers and knotted T-shirt weren't exactly presentable.

"Oh no," Margaret echoed, her tone filled with faux distress. "I'm locking myself in my bedroom until you leave."

"But I just agreed to your big ask," Summer hissed, frustration evident in her voice. "This is my request in return."

She slammed the bathroom door shut, leaving Margaret outside. The sound of Milli barking furiously in the living room only added to the chaos. With a resigned sigh, Margaret made her way to the front door, feeling far from prepared for any unexpected visitors.Monty's owner, clad in crisp khakis, slid his hands into his pockets. "I hope I've come to the right place. Is this where Summer Thompson lives?"

Margaret couldn't believe her ears. She had been caught up in a daydream about her cousin's date, and now she felt ashamed.

"She's expecting a football player," Margaret admitted, fully embracing her prudishness.

He leaned back on his heels, a confident smile gracing his face. "I'm number eighty-one in the Growler's program and number one in the hearts of fans. I've been the league's leading receiver for two seasons straight."

Margaret's eyes widened. So that's what Papa Reed meant by being a "big fan."

Milli, Margaret's dog, whimpered and scratched at her leg, desperate to escape. It was clear that the silly canine wanted to expose herself to her lover's owner.

"Sit and behave, Milli," Margaret commanded, but the dog continued to struggle, refusing to comply.

Number Eighty-One laughed. "I'm pretty sure that dog only understands 'French fry' when it comes to French."

Margaret felt a surge of indignation. How dare he fat-shame her grandmother's adorable pudgy dog? "Milli Chanel understands French perfectly well. She's brilliant."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that so?"

Crouching down, he locked eyes with Milli. Margaret could have sworn the dog sighed.

"Voulez-vous manger vieilles chaussures, Milli?" he asked in a seductive tone.

Mother of God. This man was fluent in the language of love, as well as bread and chocolate. Margaret was surprised her panties hadn't spontaneously combusted from the perfectly accented words rolling off his tongue.

Milli seemed to share the same reaction. Her eyes practically rolled back in her head, as if he had asked her if she wanted cheese on her burger instead of offering her old shoes.

Satisfied with his point, he stood up gracefully, the movements of a natural athlete, and smirked at Margaret. "I rest my case."

Milli whimpered, clearly missing the undivided attention of Monty's owner.

"Ouch!" Margaret yelped as the dog's claws broke her skin.

Hopping on one foot, she made her way to the kitchen, leaving the man to fend for himself with her grandmother's little hussy of a dog. She grabbed a paper towel to tend to her shin, pouring herself another glass of wine with her free hand. Who said she wasn't talented?

"They aren't acting in movies. It really does hurt like hell when you put alcohol on an open wound. You might want to hold onto something," she warned.

Great. Number Eighty-One had made himself comfortable and followed her into the kitchen, cradling Milli in his arms. The dog purred like a cat, trying to burrow into his neck. Margaret couldn't blame her. She had caught a whiff of him at the door, and he smelled delicious, like fresh soap and her grandmother's fabric softener.

Without his baseball cap, his dirty blond surfer hair was styled in a carefree, boyish manner. Combined with his lush lips, he was a danger to women's hearts everywhere.

And he belonged to Summer.

Margaret downed half her glass of wine in one gulp.

He grinned at her, not the same potent smile that had nearly knocked her off her feet the day before. This was the gracious smile reserved for his "big fans."

"That works too," he said, stroking Milli's ears. The dog moaned as though she were in the throes of passion. "So, you and Summer, you're sisters?"

"Cousins," Margaret replied, still pressing the paper towel to her leg, silently urging Summer to hurry up.

"Ah," he nodded. "I never made the connection. I guess I don't even know Reed's last name. But he spent all afternoon bragging about his granddaughter, Margaret, the talented cellist and YouTube star. He never mentioned Summer once." He tilted his head slightly. "I tried to find your YouTube channel, but it says it's no longer available."

His comment stunned Margaret, causing her to sputter mid-swallow. Of course, her YouTube channel was no longer available. The thought of millions of people watching her most embarrassing moment over and over again was unbearable. The idea that the attractive football player cuddling her grandmother's dog might have seen it made her stomach twist into knots.

"Papa Reed was talking about me? To you? Why?" she asked, her voice filled with disbelief.

Milli was now snoring against his shoulder. His fingers gently caressed the dog's fur as he leaned against the counter. "He and his friends were at the pub in Sunset Glen discussing their plans for the Growler's pep band. They'll be performing at the picnic this afternoon. He mentioned that you might be joining them this season. He seemed pretty excited about it."

"Oh, no," Margaret shook her wine glass at him. "He's trying to set me up with their director. There's no way I'm joining their band."

"That's a shame," he said, sounding genuinely disappointed.The effects of the wine she had been guzzling could have been to blame, but Margaret couldn't shake the feeling that he was calling her out for dissing the band. What business was it of his what she did or didn't do with her life? She was about to ask him just that when, thankfully, Summer appeared, saving her from making yet another prissy comment.

His eyes lit up with appreciation as they landed on Summer, and Margaret couldn't help but stifle a sigh. Her cousin was always gorgeous, and together they looked like a picture-perfect couple. It made Margaret's stomach sink. Their children would undoubtedly be stunning.

Margaret finished off her wine glass, only to find it empty. How had that happened so quickly? She debated pouring another glass but thought better of it. She still had to walk Milli, and the last thing she needed was to break an ankle drunk-dog-walking in the dark.

"Oh, Milli, get down," Summer scolded the dog. "You'll get hair all over Levi's shirt."

Summer wasn't much of a dog person, but Margaret wanted to be one. Taking care of Milli was one of the perks of staying in her grandparents' house.

She highly doubted that Summer knew about Monty, but that wasn't her problem. Margaret would find out about the beastly lug when she moved from WAD to WAG status. The thought of witnessing that moment made her stifle a giggle.

Levi carried the still-sleeping dog into the living room, where he gently placed her onto her bed, giving them a nice view of his drool-worthy butt. While his back was turned, Summer turned to Margaret and shot her a questioning look. Margaret shrugged. Summer mouthed, "Isn't he hot?"

So hot that the room was spinning.

Margaret managed a quick thumbs-up before Levi turned back to them.

"Did you two get acquainted?" Summer asked.

"Actually, we met yesterday," he replied, flashing Margaret another one of his gracious smiles. "My grandmother and your grandfather are neighbors."

Summer's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

Levi looked pleased, while Summer seemed panicked.

"We'll have to join them in the pub for trivia night sometime," he suggested.

Summer never went to Sunset Glen. It was too difficult for her. Margaret decided it was time for a rescue. After all, her cousin had agreed to speak at career day.

"She doesn't get to see my grandparents that often," Margaret said. "Her schedule is such that our grandmother is sundowning during the only time of day she can visit."

Summer's shoulders relaxed. "Um, yeah. And Papa Reed and I have a standing lunch date every week. It gives us a chance to catch up while he gets a meal out."

Levi nodded. "I'm sure he enjoys that. Maybe my Gram and I can join you one day?"

Summer beamed at him. "We'd love to have you join us."

Margaret had to bite back a snort. Summer would jump at any opportunity to be seen with a nationally-known star. It helped boost her own celebrity status. No doubt Papa Reed would enjoy it too, being such a "big fan" of Levi.

But Margaret was uncomfortable with the idea that it could be misconstrued as a double date. Of course, it wasn't, but her grandparents' friends and neighbors wouldn't know that. She didn't want them to think her grandfather was anything less than devoted to his wife, because that couldn't be further from the truth.

"Nice to see you again," Levi said as he led Summer to the door.

Margaret raised her empty wine glass in a salute. "Say hi to Papa Reed."

Summer froze in her tracks. "Papa Reed?"

"Didn't Levi tell you? The Growler pep band will be performing at the picnic."

Margaret could see the moment Summer realized her grandfather and his friends would be "chaperoning" her all afternoon. Papa Reed and his cronies could be a bit overbearing, but they meant well. At least Margaret knew they did. Summer didn't seem to think so. Her cousin's lips curled inward. "I forgot he was still involved with that group."

"It'll be fun at the games this year. Now that I know the guys, maybe they'll take requests when I score," Levi joked.

"Yeah, they'll be at the games too," Summer said, her tone indicating she thought it would be anything but fun.

"I'll be there with them as well." Margaret's words slipped out before she could stop herself. She had no intention of working with the Growler pep band. It must have been the wine talking. It took her a full two seconds to realize what she had just said.

Summer looked at her questioningly, while Levi sported that killer smile from yesterday. The one that made her want to do whatever it took to keep him smiling at her like that forever. And then he winked at her, as though her agreement to play in the pep band was some kind of test.

Or dare.

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR
Chapter Four

Monty trotted alongside Levi as they rounded the corner of the mile-long walking path at Sunset Glen. The community's Labor Day cookout buzzed with activity under a large tent at the opposite end of the path. Instead of attending the pool party thrown by Jacobs and his wife for the receiving corps every year, Levi chose to spend time with his Gram. After all, he had relocated her from Idaho to be by her side.

Gram was a remarkable seventy-eight-year-old woman, still healthy and agile, except for her heart. Not that it was physically enlarged, but she had a habit of falling prey to people taking advantage of her kindness. Every sob story wrapped in a scam seemed to get to her.

Yet, it was Gram's boundless generosity that Levi cherished the most. She had been there for him when his parents were too entangled in their own complicated love lives, both choosing others over him. Her home in Boise had been a sanctuary for a rebellious teenage boy who couldn't fathom why he wasn't lovable. But Gram loved him unconditionally then and now, and for that, Levi would do whatever it took to ensure the rest of her life was easy and peaceful.

That included uprooting her from the only place she had ever known and moving her 1,700 miles away. Levi's father, Margaret Green's only child, lived in a sprawling house in a gated suburb outside Dallas. He had offered to have Gram live in a guest house on his property, but she declined, citing the Texas heat as unsuitable for her. Levi suspected it was just an excuse. While Gram had her son's college and pro-football jerseys hanging on her walls, she couldn't tolerate his presence these days.

Levi understood.

He and his father hadn't seen eye to eye since Levi followed in his footsteps and tried out as a walk-on for Boise State's football team. Wyatt Green feared that his son's mediocre football skills would tarnish his own reputation. Of course, he never said that. Instead, his father claimed to be concerned about Levi's mental health when he didn't make the team. After all, Levi hadn't grown up playing football as his father had. Hockey was the game boys gravitated towards in Canada.

Little did his father know, but his lack of faith in Levi's abilities was the catalyst for his determination. It pushed Levi not only to make the team but to become their best player and a three-time All-American. And Gram had been there every step of the way, cheering him on.

Proving people wrong was Levi's greatest talent in life.

Monty whined beside him before lunging forward on the leash. The dog's tail thumped against Levi's thigh as he reigned Monty back into a semi-respectable heel.

"What's got you all excited, huh?"

To his surprise, the dog barked in response, immediately followed by a higher-pitched bark. Levi couldn't help but smile. It seemed his dog had taken a liking to Summer's grandmother's little French bulldog.

"You have good taste, buddy. She's a great choice."

Just like Summer.

She had been the perfect companion for the team's picnic, just as he had predicted. Some women were intimidated by the players and their wives at these events, but not Summer. Her sunny personality and natural poise charmed everyone. While he spent most of the picnic chatting with another guy's soon-to-be fiancée, Summer didn't complain. She was content to mingle and didn't need him glued to her side all afternoon.

Other women he had taken to team functions were all about the public displays of affection, hanging off him at every opportunity. Summer blushed beautifully when he held her hand in front of everyone, but she was reserved in other ways. He sensed she valued her privacy, which suited him just fine. She didn't hold back on responding to his kisses later that evening, though.

There had always been a flirty connection between them whenever he appeared on the morning news to promote an adoptable dog. He was relieved to discover that the chemistry wasn't just for the cameras. The next few months looked promising.

Milli came bounding into view, with Margaret struggling to keep up in her flip-flops. Levi suppressed a laugh. It amazed him how one of Reed Thompson's granddaughters could be so put together while the other was a complete mess.

The two dogs seemed destined for a collision. Levi took pity on Margaret and pulled Monty into a sit beside him. Just in time, Margaret managed to catch Milli and scoop her into her arms. She skidded to a breathless stop a foot away from Levi and Monty.

This time, he couldn't help but laugh. Monty wiggled happily beside him. Margaret narrowed her eyes at both of them. Up close, he noticed tiny flecks of gold sparkling in her coffee-colored eyes. They were warm and comforting.

"What's so funny?"

Too bad the rest of her wasn't as warm and comforting. Why did this woman always want to challenge him?

"I find it amusing that a grown woman can't control a dog," he said.

"I can control her just fine." She gestured at Monty before seeming to realize how close she was to the larger dog and taking a step back. "Except when your sex-starved dog is around."

Milli lunged towards Monty with a whine that sounded more like a wail.

"I would argue that your dog is the one who's hornier," he replied.

She rolled her eyes. "Typical male. Always blaming the female."

His gaze shifted to her lips. She was always using them to snipe at him that he hadn't noticed how full and pink they were. He let his eyes wander further down. Today, she had traded her hobo clothes for a cute red, white, and blue sundress. The striped fabric accentuated her curves.

Damn it.

He had no business checking out Summer's cousin.

"If you'll excuse us, we'll be on our way.""Enjoy your walk," she said with a hint of a smile before striding past them. Milli glanced back at Monty, exchanging a playful look. The foolish dog whimpered as Levi tugged him in the opposite direction.

   But within seconds, Margaret's screech pierced the air. Levi and Monty hurried back down the trail.

   "Ow, ow, ow," Margaret cried, hopping towards one of the benches lining the path. "Son of a biscuit."

   Milli protested with a yelp as Margaret nearly plopped down on top of her.

   "What happened now?" Levi demanded.

   "Go away!"

   Damn it.

   Was she crying? Levi dropped to his haunches in front of her and grabbed her bare foot. A spiky ball from one of the sweet gum trees had embedded itself into her arch.

   "This might hurt."

   "Don't—ouch!"

   He tossed the offending thing back into the brush. Both dogs followed its trajectory with their eyes but thankfully stayed put. He rubbed his thumb over the bottom of her foot, applying pressure to the entry point of the thorn to prevent any bleeding. After a moment, he lifted his gaze to her face. A pair of dilated pupils stared back at him. He froze when she bit her lip.

   She snapped out of it before he did.

   "Are you trying to look up my dress?" she accused, her voice laced with primness.

   He cursed under his breath because, for a moment there, he was actually considering that exact thing. And because he enjoyed pushing her buttons, he let her know.

   "Margaret Thompson, if I were going to look up your skirt, you'd know it. Because you would be begging me to do that and a whole lot more."

   The blush returned, this time spreading not only across her cheeks but also down her neck and chest. She opened her mouth but quickly closed it again. He skimmed his palm up her calf before lifting her leg and resting her injured foot on the opposite knee.

   "Sit. Stay," he commanded the three of them before going to retrieve her missing flip-flop. When he returned, he crouched back down and slipped the star-studded thong onto her foot. "There you go, Cinderella. You're ready for the ball."

   "Thank you," she whispered.

   He lifted his head to meet her gaze. Her eyes held a look of sheer terror. For a split second, he wondered what he'd done wrong. But then he saw that Monty was resting his massive head on her thigh. It was the dog that frightened her.

   "Monty, off." The dog ignored him. "He's worried about you." Levi reached up to grab the dog by the collar, but she swatted his hand away.

   "No."

   Then she cautiously laid her palm on top of Monty's head. Sighing, the dog pressed in closer. Milli whined, wanting to join in. Levi scooped her up instead.

   "Nope. We're going to finish your walk while these two get acquainted."

   He took the dog several yards down the path. After a few minutes of dawdling, Milli finally relieved herself, and the two returned to the bench. Margaret and Monty hadn't moved. Her hand stroked from the top of his head down to his shoulder blades. Monty's eyes were closed, and his breathing was even, as though he were asleep. That didn't sit well with Levi. He lifted Milli onto his lap and joined Margaret on the bench.

   "You didn't have to do that," she said softly, her eyes still fixed on Monty. "Walking her is the only exercise I get in a day."

   Levi snorted. "First of all, this dog doesn't walk. She stops and starts. You won't get any real exercise that way. Secondly, you should never walk a dog in flip flops."

   She lifted her chin then, shooting him a look through her long lashes. "I've never had a dog before. I didn't know there were rules."

   Whoa. Was that actual flirtation from Margaret? It seemed those full lips of hers could be used for more than just snark. Levi was surprised at how much he liked it.

   He shook his head to refocus. Margaret was Summer's cousin. Summer was his Seasonal Arm Candy.

   Damn it all.

   Now he was using the condescending label his teammates had come up with. Summer wasn't just a casual fling. She was an attractive, respected, intelligent woman. Someone to fill his free time during the season while everyone else he knew reveled in their families.

   Frustrated with his own thoughts, he jumped to his feet.

   "Not rules. Basic common sense. But if there were rules, you wouldn't be walking anywhere without a damn keeper," he replied sharply. Monty lifted his head and shot Levi a dirty look. Milli squirmed in his arms. "I hear the band starting up. I need to make sure Gram made it down to the party. Are you okay to walk?"

   "Oh, for crying out loud." She stood up from the bench. "It was just a sticker."

   "Well, you screamed as if a snake or something worse had bitten you." He grabbed Monty's leash and headed back towards the community center, Milli still in his arms. Behind him, Margaret muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "jackass." He glanced back at her. She stuck her tongue out.

   "Can I have my grandmother's dog back?"

   "That depends on whether or not you trip and fall in the next fifty feet. It's a good thing the Growler's band doesn't march. You'd be the laughing stock of Milwaukee."

   She was instantly by his side. "And that's your fault, too!"

   "Too? What the hell are you talking about?"

   She planted her fists on her hips. "You dared me."

   He laughed. She gritted her teeth. He laughed harder.

   "You did. And you know it. If you hadn't goaded me, I would've never told Summer I was joining the band."

   Levi wanted to wipe away tears, but both hands were occupied with dogs. "Sweetheart, I didn't make you do anything. That was all you." He grinned at her. "And maybe the wine."

   He continued down the path, still grinning from ear to ear. She trudged alongside him.

   "Fine, I'll admit the wine played a small part," she surprised him by saying."But you were provoking me with your endless praise for the Growler band," he said, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"They truly are amazing," she replied defiantly.

The snarl that escaped her lips only fueled his laughter.

"Here's a challenge for you," he said, his voice brimming with confidence. "I dare you not to enjoy being part of the band."

Levi was known for his knack for throwing out dares and challenges, always keeping himself relevant among his peers. He found a certain satisfaction in frustrating Margaret, nothing more.

In an act of defiance, she reached over and plucked Milli from his arms. "Of course, I'll have fun. Fun is practically my middle name."

His laughter doubled, echoing through the air.

"What's so amusing now?" she demanded, her irritation palpable.

Levi raised a hand, trying to compose himself. Milli and Monty, their canine companions, watched them with curious eyes, their heads moving back and forth like spectators at a tennis match.

"It's you," he managed to say between fits of laughter. "I hate to burst your bubble, but your middle name isn't 'Fun.' It's more like 'Stick in the Mud.'"

Margaret scrunched up her face, clearly unamused. "My fifth graders are better behaved than you."

She clutched Milli tightly, storming ahead. Monty tugged on his leash, following closely behind.

Levi chuckled as he and Monty hurried to catch up. "Your cousin doesn't seem to have any issues with my charming personality."

Margaret made a deep, throaty sound but remained silent. What did that sound mean? Doubts began to creep into his mind. Was Summer really interested in him?

"She doesn't," he insisted, desperately trying to convince himself.

Margaret shrugged half-heartedly.

This couldn't be right. Summer had kissed him like she was into him. He had enough experience with women to recognize genuine interest. Something wasn't adding up.

He stepped in front of Margaret, halting her in her tracks. "What exactly did she say?"

"Nothing," she replied with another shrug. "And that's unusual for her. There was no glow of satisfaction either. Probably because she made it home before her eleven o'clock curfew."

Frustration filled his lungs as he exhaled heavily. "Maybe I'm not the kind of guy who sleeps with a woman on the first date."

Margaret snorted and brushed past him. "No man has ever said that. But that's not what I meant. Summer can't help but blab about the guys she dates. But this morning, she was tight-lipped. Hate to break it to you, bub, but maybe you didn't show her your best moves last night. You'll have to try harder."

The woman was clearly unhinged. That was the only explanation. She was just messing with his head, possibly out of jealousy towards her popular cousin.

She took a few steps before turning back around. "Oh God. Maybe you didn't show her your best moves because you're not into her. Two strikes in a row. That's a first." She closed the distance between them. "Please, just break it to her gently. She's still fragile after the mess with Josh. And I need some peace for the next sixteen weeks."

Levi glanced down at her hand gripping his forearm, feeling an unexpected jolt of electricity. She followed his gaze and quickly withdrew her hand.

He needed to get away from this woman before she dragged him into her crazy world.

"I'm not planning on ending anything," he declared firmly.

Margaret nodded slowly. They were just steps away from the tent where the residents had gathered for the cookout. They stood there in tense silence, interrupted only by one of the nosiest residents in the community.

Scratch that.

It wasn't just any resident, but Mrs. Hilbert, the nosiest of them all. If they were casting a reboot of "The Golden Girls," she would fit perfectly as Sophia. The petite septuagenarian was always elegantly dressed, armed with quick-witted remarks, and perpetually carrying a designer bag.

"There you are," Mrs. Hilbert exclaimed, offering her powdered cheek for Levi to kiss. She was the woman responsible for arranging Declan Dillon's marriage and the mother of a prominent sports agent who represented some of the Growlers.

"Hello, Mrs. H. How are you?" he greeted politely.

The woman observed Levi and Margaret with a shrewd gaze. "I'm doing well. I was just talking to your grandmother. We're thrilled to have Margaret here. She's going to fit right in."

Her words should have pleased him, but coming from Mrs. Hilbert, they sent a shiver down his spine. Trouble seemed to follow her like a shadow. He doubted Gram could handle some of the wilder residents.

Mrs. Hilbert turned her attention to Margaret. "You must be Reed's other granddaughter. At least one of you visits. Here, give me that dog. Your grandmother is getting anxious."

"I can take her," Margaret offered.

"Nonsense." Milli eagerly went to Mrs. Hilbert, as if she knew treats awaited her. "You two stay here and finish—" She glanced at Levi. "—whatever this is."

Margaret watched Mrs. Hilbert walk away, her eyes fixed on her retreating figure. "She misspoke about Summer. She can't come because she's unable to."

"Yeah, her busy schedule. You mentioned that."

Margaret took a deep breath, her voice filled with emotion. "It's not easy watching someone you love slip away. Especially when they've played such a vital role in our lives. My grandmother is the anchor for all of us. She embodies love every day. There's no one more selfless on this earth." She pleaded with him through her eyes. "It's not Summer's fault she handles things differently. Just be kind to her, please?"

With that, she hurried after Mrs. Hilbert. As frustrating as Margaret could be, he admired her for standing up for her cousin. It seemed he had misjudged her jealousy towards Summer. Perhaps she had been telling the truth. Levi knew he had to step up his game.

Challenge accepted, Margaret Thompson.

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER FIVE

"We should be sipping wine on the terrace right now," Ruby declared. "It’s our first day of school tradition."

Margaret gripped the phone with one hand while tugging on a piece of rope she’d bought at the pet store with the other. Milli, the little dog, snorted and snuffled furiously as they played. Margaret couldn't help but laugh when Milli fell back on her tail, the rope smacking the wee thing right on the white heart-shaped spot on her chest.

"At least you get to have tea with Grandma Rosamund," Ruby continued.

"If she wakes up from her nap on time. She’s been sleeping a lot more lately. But I’ll Facetime you. Then I can be jealous that you’re drinking wine while I’m making do with tepid Earl Gray."

Margaret dropped the pull toy so she could swipe at a bee buzzing toward the dregs of her frozen custard. She justified the pitstop at Kopp’s as a necessary compensation for missing happy hour with her best friend. Milli circled twice before happily sprawling out with her chew toy on a beach towel Margaret borrowed from Papa Reed’s linen closet. After yesterday’s mishap on the walking trail, she decided that a little picnic on the grassy area next to the senior community’s pool was a better way to give Milli some exercise.

"So, tell me everything," Ruby demanded. "Start with breakfast."

Margaret snorted. At Preston, the parents catered a breakfast for the staff to kick off the year. No such luck at her new school. Someone brought in a box of donut holes, but there had been nothing left except some crumbs by the time Margaret found the teacher’s lounge.

"Things are a lot different in public school," she said. "I barely got time to shovel down my lunch."

"What about the other teachers? What are they like?"

"Fortunately for me, my reputation did not precede me. Not big YouTube music fans, I guess. To them, I’m a long-term sub who won’t be teaching there by the time they come up for air during the holidays. Although the resource officer winked at me as I was leaving today."

"Yeah, that’s not creepy at all."

"I think I won a few of them over when they found out Summer is coming to speak at career day next month. Honestly, I think the teachers will be more in awe of her than the kids."

"What’s the scoop on this football player the Princess has lured in? What’s he like?"

Arrogant. Annoying. Manipulative. Exasperating.

And ridiculously intriguing.

And the real reason she and Milli were avoiding the path today. She needed to keep her distance from Levi Green. The man got under skin.

Not to mention he was off-limits. Levi was dating her picture-perfect cousin. She had no business fantasizing about him while in the shower. Or anywhere else, damn it.

But there had been a moment yesterday when she’d sensed something from him. Something that felt an awful lot like longing. Which was impossible because, once again for the back of the class, he was dating the perfect Thompson granddaughter.

The successful one.

The one who never, ever, choked.

"Margaret?" Ruby’s voice helped to refocus her meandering thoughts.

"Uh, he’s okay. You know, if you go for the whole spoiled jock thing."

"Mmm. I googled him. He’s not just okay. He’s freaking hot. Those eyes. And that smile. Yum. But please make me feel better by telling me that he has bad breath or grunts or something."

"Haven’t gotten close enough to smell his breath," she lied. She knew for a fact that Levi Green smelled fantastic. It was so unfair. "And I hate to disappoint you, but he speaks in full sentences."

In French, also.

"Sheesh. The Princess did always rebound well. Do you think she can hook us up with tickets to a game?"

Margaret rested back on her palm. "Actually, it looks like I’m not going to need a ticket to get into the games. I’m going to be helping out with the Growler pep band."

She was still reeling with how the whole thing came about. But once she’d committed to it, her mind began to whir with musical arrangements and possibilities. Of course, it wasn’t the same as arranging music for the string ensemble she’d been performing with for the past five years. But she’d done her student teaching for a high school band director who’d given her carte blanch to create tunes for the school’s pep band. This would be similar.

"A pep band?" Ruby croaked. "You’re a cellist. A very successful cellist at that. One with serious OCD about the humidity and temperature where you store your instrument. I’m having trouble visualizing you in the stands during a Milwaukee snow storm playing Bach."

"I’m not a cellist any longer, remember?" Margaret explained. "And I’ll be arranging the music and directing. Not playing."

Ruby sighed. "I guess it says something that you haven’t totally given up on your music."

Not her music.It was just a dream, Margaret thought. A fleeting desire to find companionship and connection in her otherwise busy and overachieving life. Her friend, Ruby, made a playful comment about sitting with the "silver foxes" at the games, but Margaret wasn't interested. She had her sights set on someone else - a single fireman who also happened to be a saxophonist. They were going to meet for drinks, and Margaret couldn't help but feel excited about the possibility of new friendships and maybe even something more.

Eugene Morris, the man in charge of the rowdy pep band, had gladly handed off the task of arranging the music to Margaret. He knew firsthand how challenging it could be to deal with the uncooperative band members. Margaret had spoken to him on the phone the previous night, and their conversation had only fueled her anticipation. She trusted her grandfather's judgment, and if he said this guy was friendly, then she had high hopes.

Ruby, always quick to seize an opportunity, jumped on the idea of Margaret finding cute friends through this connection. They made a deal - if Margaret found out if the fireman had any eligible friends, Ruby would consider sitting with the band at the games.

But reality interrupted their conversation as Margaret's phone buzzed with a reminder. She had to leave to spend time with her grandmother and attend an LSAT study group meeting later. Ruby teased her about being overscheduled, but Margaret shrugged it off. She knew she had a bright future ahead, but sometimes she wondered if pursuing law was truly where her passions lay.

With her loyal dog, Milli, by her side, Margaret headed towards the memory care building. But before they could reach their destination, a woman from the previous day called out to Margaret from across the parking lot. The woman, Mrs. Hilbert, was surprisingly spry for her age as she hurriedly approached Margaret. Milli tried to bark a welcome but was hindered by the rope toy in her mouth, causing Margaret to get accidentally hit in the eye.

Mrs. Hilbert couldn't help but comment on the shiner Margaret now sported, but she quickly got to the point. She needed Margaret and her cello for a Friday night happy hour event. Margaret was taken aback by the request and initially declined, but Mrs. Hilbert persisted. She revealed that she was a resident at the facility where Margaret's grandfather played poker with her boyfriend, Fred.

Margaret couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and annoyance towards this woman. However, when Mrs. Hilbert mentioned that Sharon was going to propose to Gary on Friday night and wanted romantic music in the background, Margaret's perspective shifted. The idea of love, especially later in life, touched something deep within her. She thought of her own grandparents and their unwavering love, even in the face of her grandmother's deteriorating memory.

Moved by the sweetness of the proposal, Margaret acknowledged it but still wasn't fully convinced.Regret weighed heavy on Margaret's sigh. "But I can't do it." The mere thought of performing in front of people again sent a cold sweat trickling down the back of her neck. "I could ask around and see if there's someone else available, if you'd like."

"No!" Mrs. Hilbert practically stomped her foot. "I don't 'like.' Your grandfather said you're You Too famous, whatever that means. And that you were invited to perform with the Vienna Symphony Orchestra."

Damn Papa Reed. "Do you see me in Vienna?" Margaret retorted sharply.

"Oh, forget those snooty Viennese. What do they know? Have you seen the size of the sausages they serve there? Tiny. No bigger than my thumb." She held out her gnarled thumb for comparison. "Nothing like the brats we serve. Now, those are some wieners, I tell ya."

Margaret couldn't help but choke out a laugh. This woman had a way of blindsiding her with every word that came out of her mouth.

"I appreciate your interest, Mrs. Hilbert. Truly, I do. And I want Sharon and Gary to have a memorable proposal. But when I say I can't, I mean it sincerely."

Milli, sensing her distress, dropped her rope and nuzzled against Margaret's neck. Mrs. Hilbert stepped closer, placing a hand on the dog's back.

"Come on, Toots, you've got to get back on the horse eventually. A talent like yours shouldn't go to waste. And it's not like you're giving a full-blown performance. I won't even pay you if that's what's making you nervous. Just you playing your cello in front of a bunch of seniors. Half of them can't hear, and most of them wouldn't know a thing about that Hickory Dickory Dock app, let alone how to watch a You Too video."

Heaven help her from this woman. Margaret had meant to shake her head in refusal, but Mrs. Hilbert caught her hesitation and went in for the kill.

"Your grandmother will be there. I'm sure she'd love to hear you play."

It was only after Margaret agreed that she realized the shrewd biddy had manipulated her into playing for free.

That night, the nightmares began.

"This morning's rehearsal went exceptionally well," Kasen, Margaret's brother, remarked.

They sat together in the green room of the Mozart Hall in the Vienna Concert House, the hum of the audience filtering through the walls as they took their seats.

"The director mentioned the possibility of extending the tour from six months to nine, maybe even a year," Kasen continued.

A whole year traveling with the Vienna chamber orchestra, performing the music she loved across Europe and the U.S. It was truly a dream come true. Margaret took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

"The chair of the music school at Northwestern reached out today as well," her brother added. "They want to talk to you about creating a course on building your brand on YouTube. Seems like you've started a trend. But we should discuss it first before you speak to him. It could be a lucrative additional revenue stream we haven't considered. I don't want you giving anything away."

She laughed. "How much of a cut are you taking from my earnings, anyway?"

Kasen grinned, his father's dimples winking at her. After a rebellious phase in his teenage years, barely scraping by to get into the University of Illinois, he'd defied expectations by getting into law school and graduating. Though he hadn't topped his class like their parents had, he'd made a name for himself during internships and secured a prestigious position at one of Chicago's premier law firms. When Margaret's YouTube channel took off, she turned to him for help with the financial and legal aspects.

"I'm pretty sure I'm not taking enough of a fee," he joked. "Who knew playing the cello on YouTube could make you so much money."

The whole YouTube journey had been an unexpected turn of events for Margaret. It started as a lark, bringing her cello to a friend's birthday picnic in Grant Park. Ruby filmed her playing cover songs of popular hits, and when guests requested copies, a friend created a YouTube channel. Before she knew it, Margaret had thousands of followers. Requests for specific songs poured in, and her audience grew. From there, she began taking her cello to various locations in Chicago, recording songs and sharing them online. A spontaneous Christmas concert in the snow catapulted her audience into the six-figure range, turning her into an internet sensation. Now, two years later, she had over a million devoted followers and an income that surpassed anything she earned from teaching or playing in ensembles.And now, an extraordinary opportunity awaited Margaret. An invitation to perform alongside one of the world's most esteemed chamber orchestras was a dream come true. As she shared the news with her brother, Kasen, she couldn't help but hope that this accomplishment would finally make Clara, their sister, take her career seriously.

Kasen's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding. "Don't be too hard on Clara, Squirt," he said gently.

Margaret stared at him in disbelief. How could he defend Clara's lack of support? But Kasen's smile held a resignation that spoke volumes.

"Alright, maybe she hasn't been the most supportive," he admitted. "But you have to understand, losing Dad changed her perspective on everything."

Margaret scoffed, unable to contain her frustration. "That's an understatement if I've ever heard one."

Kasen sighed, his hands finding their place on her shoulders. "She just wants both of us to have secure futures. There was a time when she doubted her ability to provide for us. I'm not saying she's right, but I can finally see where she's coming from." His voice softened. "She's incredibly proud of you, you know. You should've seen her at the hotel this morning, bragging about her 'gifted' daughter to anyone who would listen."

Margaret still couldn't believe that both Kasen and Clara had come to support her. "I never thought you both would actually come," she admitted.

Kasen chuckled, giving her a quick salute before disappearing into the crowd. "Of course we would. Now go out there and live your dream. If anyone deserves this, it's you."

Moments later, a stage director poked his head into the room. "We'll be ready for you in five minutes, Ms. Thompson."

Margaret nodded, her excitement tinged with nervousness. She needed to find her seat and prepare for the performance. As she hurried towards the ladies' lounge, a heated argument in the hallway caught her attention.

"You're tarnishing the reputation of our esteemed chamber by allowing this woman to perform with us," a voice with a thick accent protested.

"Our chamber can't survive on reputation alone," another voice argued. "We need to reach a younger audience if we want to keep our music alive."

"And you think bringing in someone without pedigree or real performance experience will achieve that?" The first voice sneered. "She's nothing more than a gimmick. Those who lack musical education may enjoy her videos, but that doesn't equate to talent. Allowing her to perform demeans the expertise of every other musician in this orchestra."

Margaret's heart pounded in her chest, drowning out the rest of the conversation. Before she could react, the stage director appeared beside her.

"Ms. Thompson?" he called.

Startled, Margaret turned towards him, momentarily unable to find her voice.

"We're ready for you," he informed her.

She wanted to tell him that she wasn't ready, that the words she had just overheard had shaken her to the core. But no sound escaped her lips. With an encouraging smile, the stage director gestured for her to follow him.

Like a lamb being led to slaughter, Margaret numbly made her way to the stage. Her cello felt slippery in her hands, her bow sliding between her trembling fingers.

No pedigree.

A gimmick.

The cruel words echoed in her mind, intensifying her anxiety. The stage lights blinded her, the applause crashing against her like cannon fire. The conductor raised his baton, but Margaret couldn't move.

And then, she woke up with a start, drenched in sweat. Gasping for air, she tried to steady her racing heart. Milli, her furry companion, peered at her with one eye, clearly annoyed by the disturbance.

"You have your own bed, you know," Margaret muttered, feeling a mixture of frustration and exhaustion.

The dog turned away, unimpressed. Margaret flopped back onto her pillows, realizing that she was in her grandparents' house, sharing a bed with a canine. This wasn't how she had envisioned her life.

"I can't do it," she whispered to the ceiling, her voice filled with doubt.

But Mrs. Hilbert, the ever-interfering neighbor, wasted no time in informing Papa Reed about Margaret's musical opportunity.

"Your grandmother lives for your music," he had said. "This will bring her so much joy. She'll be over the moon to hear you play in person."

Margaret couldn't deny that making her grandmother happy was one of her main motivations for coming to Milwaukee. After all, it was Grandma Rosamund who had ignited Margaret's love for music. She would go to great lengths to see her grandmother smile, even if it meant facing the possibility of humiliation once again.

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