Page 21 of What Maple Heard

Jasmine patted my arm. “Give me a call if he gets smart with you.” She said as she waved goodbye to Nancy on her way out and gave Cade a warm smile. She gave me one last look before stepping out. The door closed behind her.

Cade walked over.

I looked at him. “Why are you here, Cade?”

“I’m here to set things right.”

“Things can’t be set right.”

“Maple. I’m here to fix what I broke. And for that, I’m ready to do whatever needs to be done.” He glanced at the studio, where the kids were slowly reconvening after the water break. “But if you genuinely want me to leave, I’ll go. Right now. I’ll tell Jasmine something came up. But I’m not going to stop trying to show up for you—“

“You want to leave,” I said. “After a very large donation and Jasmine coming here personally. You think I’d tell you to go and make myself look like I can’t manage one volunteer? You want me to look bad in front of the town council?”

“I never want you to look bad. If you say go, I go. I’ll figure out the Jasmine part myself.” He looked at me steadily. “But even if I leave today, I’m not giving up on you. I meant what I said on your porch. I meant every word of it.”

I looked at him.

He looked back.

“You might fight me as much as you want, Maple. But deep down I know you’re tired of fighting your whole life.”

The audacity of that sentence made me want to throw something at him.

“Just give up, Cade,” I said. “Seriously. Go back to your apartment, or your parents’ villa, or your very cushioned office or wherever the hell you want to go. Find someone new to fuck. I’m sure there are plenty of options. Sapphire seems very available.”

“I don’t want anything to do with Sapphire or any other woman.”

“Right.”

“You and I are going to be together again. I’m going to make sure of it.”

I smiled. The dry, flat, completely humorless smile that I reserved for very specific occasions.

“You are very welcome to keep imagining things, Cade. Daydream all you want. In fact, do it while you’re working.” I looked him up and down. He was wearing a blazer with a shirt underneath, dark trousers and leather shoes.

“You came to volunteer at a children’s dance studio in that?”

“I had a client meeting on the way here.” He looked completely unruffled. “I can handle a group of kids in this.”

“Kids?” I said. “Who said anything about kids?”

I went to the supply closet. I came back with a broom. I held it out.

He looked at it. He looked at me. He took it.

And then he smiled. A real one, full and warm and entirely genuine, and I hated it.

“Thank you for giving me another chance,” he said.

“It’s a broom, Cade. I’m not giving you anything.”

He took off his blazer and laid it over the back of the waiting area couch. He took off his tie calmly, all the while looking at me. He rolled his trousers up an inch at the ankle and gripped the broom tighter.

“Clean the whole floor.” I commanded. “Every inch. There shouldn’t be any dust left. Some of the kids here have allergies.”

“Absolutely,” he said.

Two hours later, I had successfully gotten nine out of twelve children to do the basic step in something resembling the right direction. Jordan and Devon had migrated from the mirror to actual spots on the floor, which I was counting as a miracle and not mentioning out loud in case I jinxed it. Marcus had designed three props on paper and was now asking me with deep seriousness whether the backdrop should be orange or burnt orange, because apparently there was a difference and it mattered.