No Time for Promises: No Brides Club Book 3 Read online

  She had flown through the door, clearly stressed about running late. The first thing he’d noticed, of course, had been her eyes. He was a fool for a woman with dark eyes, and this woman’s eyes were only accentuated by her long, black braids. She had an eclectic fashion sense about her, but it worked for her, a mix of classic and a bit hippie-trippy, if he had to describe it—not that he was a fashion expert by any means.

  When he’d heard her name for the first time, Zander felt something in him jolt. Rachel Winters. The name settled deep within his chest, stirring him and perhaps even his heart awake.

  And in truth, it terrified him. It was like the urge to look at a terrible accident when you drove by, though—he wanted to look away from the woman with the velvet voice telling the kids about her struggle to get to Broadway.

  But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

  Something about Rachel Winters made his “maybe” flirt with the possibility of being a yes.

  Which was ridiculous, he knew. He’d already tried at love and failed. And more than that, he hadn’t even talked to this woman. Who did he think he was presuming she would be interested in a guy like him? She was on Broadway and, for all intents and purposes, he was a small nobody, not even a blip on the radar when it came to fame. He was a teacher, and a dang good one—he took pride in his job—but he wasn’t famous or rich or on his way to becoming a star.

  He was Zander Riley, a heck of a good special education teacher, but a guy who spent his weekends watching shows on the History Channel and eating Ramen noodles by himself. He wasn’t someone a woman like Rachel Winters would ever give the time of day to.

  Still, as she talked, he could feel her watching him, studying him. And maybe it was just the extra jolt of espresso in his latte this morning or maybe it was just that it had been so long since he’d been with a woman, but he thought he sensed something in the way she looked at him.

  Something mesmerizing, something different, and something frighteningly familiar.

  “Mr. Riley, she’s pretty, isn’t she?” Rocky said to him as they followed her and the rest of the group to the stage area. Zander snapped out of his thoughts, grinning at the boy’s comment.

  Hands in his pockets, Zander looked at Rocky and gave him a wink coupled with a noncommittal mumble, which made the boy chuckle.

  “Our secret then?” Rocky asked.

  Zander just smiled, following the group to the stage area. With Rocky’s tendency to talk way too loudly, he was pretty sure the fact he thought Rachel was pretty wasn’t really a secret.

  Then again, Zander wasn’t sure if the fact Rachel Winters was pretty had ever really been a secret in the first place.

  * * *

  “The balcony! Do lines from the balcony!” Katie exclaimed. She was one of their most outgoing students and had a heart for theater, so Zander wasn’t surprised when she was the first to answer Rachel’s question about what to see first.

  “All right, then. Sounds great. Let me just climb on up here and give you all a demo, and then we’ll talk about the technicalities of balcony scenes. Sound good?” Rachel announced as she climbed up the steps on the balcony set.

  In truth, Rachel could deliver lines from the phone book or simply stand and stare at them for all Zander cared—he couldn’t deny that he was mesmerized.

  Rachel skipped up the steps, her short skirt sashaying as she did.

  “Okay, so the balcony scene can be tricky. You have to be very careful because there’s not a whole lot of space up here. And when you’re in the hot lights with the audience looking at you, it can be easy to forget that a single misstep and boom. You’re down. Like see what I’m doing here?” Rachel began from the top of the balcony, calling the students over to get a good look from behind the set. “See how there is barely any room here?”

  Rachel looked back, and maybe it was Zander’s imagination, but it felt like she was staring right at him. He nodded to show interest, but he couldn’t help but notice how even in this small crowd, it was like her eyes just knew how to find his.

  She kept talking about lines and caution and safety and all sorts of things, but Zander was barely listening. He was caught up in her, in her aura, in her clear passion for what she did.

  It was exhilarating in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

  “So as I was saying, kids, one misstep and splat. The moment is lost. One time, an actress kind of did one of these numbers,” Rachel said, still staring at Zander, her gaze piercing into his as she demonstrated a weird stance near the edge of the stairs, “and all of a sudden….”

  And then it all took a turn for the worst.

  * * *

  “Everyone, stay calm,” Zander demanded as students and staff alike screamed, shrieked, and rushed over to the fallen Broadway star. She lay at the bottom of the steps, the tumble happening in what almost felt like slow motion. Zander had seen disaster before Rachel had as her demonstration of what not to do on the balcony became a real-life re-enactment. She’d realized her error too late, and no one could do anything but watch the actress crash down the stairs, noise and screams underscoring the terror.

  Zander stood over her now, leaning down and clearing an area around her to assess the damage. His heart thudded in his chest, the sheer fear of what he just witnessed punctuated by the horror of his students.

  “Stay calm. Rocky, do like we practiced the other week in school, remember? Do you remember how to call 911 and give them instructions? Can you do that?”

  “I’m on it, Mr. Riley,” he said as one of the female assistants followed Rocky to the corner to begin dialing.

  “Rachel? Rachel, are you okay?’ Zander asked, gently touching her face but careful not to move her neck in case she was injured. He took a careful inventory of her body and couldn’t see any blood or any bones protruding, which was a good thing. It had been quite a fall, though, and she’d certainly hit her head on the way down.

  Slowly, groggily, Rachel’s eyes started to flutter, an animalistic groan escaping her lips.

  “Rachel? Are you okay? No, no, don’t move. Stay still,” Zander ordered, holding her arm now, trying to calm the woman as he breathed a sigh of relief she was now conscious. He could hear Mrs. Humphrey leading Rocky through the correct descriptions of the situation. “An ambulance is on its way, okay? You took a bit of a spill, but you’ll be okay.”

  Rachel looked up into his eyes now, and his stomach fluttered again, but not out of fear. Well, not completely. She started to sit up, but he gently coaxed her back down.

  “You need to stay still until the ambulance gets here.”

  “I don’t need an ambulance, no way. I’m fine,” she argued, her voice weak but her eyes determined.

  “It was a pretty bad spill.”

  Rachel exhaled. “I’m such an idiot,” she exclaimed, one hand now finding her head as she groaned.

  “It’s fine. We’re just glad you’re going to be okay.”

  “I’m so sorry. I’ve ruined the workshop. I knew this was a terrible idea.”

  “It wasn’t a terrible idea, Miss Winters. You showed us exactly what not to do on the balcony. That was helpful,” Katie insisted, standing near Rachel.

  Zander’s eyes met Rachel’s, and they both shared in a smile despite the terror of the situation. Sweet Katie always tried to comfort everyone.

  “Well, she’s a little bit right, I guess. But Michael’s still going to kill me,” Rachel replied.

  “Who’s Michael?” Zander asked, his heart inexplicably hoping she didn’t say it was her boyfriend.

  “My director. I mean, we have the show in a couple of hours. I can’t go to the hospital.”

  “Michael will understand. Accidents happen. There’s no question here. You’re going to the hospital to get checked out.”

  “Yeah, but I hate the hospital. I don’t do doctors, needles, or blood, so I don’t do ambulances. Please, I appreciate what you’ve done here, but I’m fine. I can just walk it off, really. My ank
le is just a little bit sore, but I’m sure it’s all good.” She started sitting up again, but as she did, she cried out, holding her head and laying back down, groaning.

  Zander raised an eyebrow at her. “Stubborn, I see?”

  “I prefer the word determined.”

  “Well, Miss Determined, listen. You need to get checked over. And who knows, maybe it won’t be a long wait.”

  Rachel raised an eyebrow at him this time.

  “Okay, okay. It might be a bit of a wait. But better safe than sorry,” he argued.

  “I don’t know about that.”

  Within a few minutes, the EMTs were rushing to the stage, clearing a path as Mrs. Crawford and Mrs. Humphrey led the students to seats in the theater near the back, unsure of what to do. Zander stayed put, still holding Rachel’s arm. The EMTs started asking questions and assessing Rachel’s condition before loading her on a stretcher.

  “This is unnecessary,” Rachel argued.

  “You may have sustained a concussion, and your ankle is swelling. We don’t want to take any chances. Now come on, we just need to get some tests run,” the larger of the EMTs argued.

  “Is there someone you want me to call for you?” Zander asked. Rachel shook her head.

  “No, there’s not really anyone to call. My friends are all at work, and I don’t want to bother them for something silly. And my parents are hours away. I’ll be okay.”

  But Zander could tell by the look on her face she wasn’t feeling okay. She was already eyeing the EMTs with suspicion.

  “I can come with you if you’d like,” he offered.

  She stared into his eyes, and he could tell she wanted to say yes, if for no other reason than to have a friendly hand to hold in the back of the ambulance.

  “I don’t want to trouble you,” she argued, but her words lacked resolve.

  “Nonsense. It’s the least I could do.”

  “What about the kids?” she asked as the EMTs started wheeling the stretcher out of the theater. Zander followed.

  “Mrs. Crawford and Mrs. Humphrey have it under control. They’ll just hang out here until the show. It’ll be okay.”

  “The show. Ugh. I really need to call my director.”

  “We can do that once we get to the hospital. It’ll be okay,” Zander assured her, still keeping up with the EMTs.

  “Sir, you’ll have to meet us at the hospital.”

  “Please, please let him come along,” Rachel begged. The EMT eyed the larger guy again. He just shrugged.

  “It’ll be a tight squeeze,” the EMT informed Zander.

  “Luckily, I’m not a big guy,” Zander replied, grinning, before realizing how it came out. Rachel just smirked as the larger EMT glared. Well, at least if he got pummeled into the ground, he had made Rachel Winters smile.

  He supposed it would be worth it, he decided as he climbed into the back of the ambulance, headed to the last place he ever thought he’d end up today.

  Chapter 3

  Rachel

  “I’m sorry again,” she said, playing with a tissue in her hand and trying not to cry for the third time. She’d already made a blasted fool of herself today. First, the idiotic tumble down the balcony. Then, the ambulance scene where she’d asked Mr. Riley—a stranger, nevertheless—to accompany her to the hospital. What had she been thinking? And then there had been the tears over the hospital, the antiseptic smell turning her stomach and launching her into a full-blown panic. And to think she’d invited a stranger along to witness her at her lowest. A gorgeous stranger, at that. What had she been thinking?

  She’d been desperate. That was all there was to it. Only a desperate woman would latch onto a chaperone at a workshop and allow him to accompany her here. Gosh, she was a fool sometimes. Forget about what that blasted book had to say about self-deprecating thoughts. Right now, she just wanted to wallow in self-deprecation and sadness. She’d tackle the positive thoughts tomorrow, as long as she was out of this horrid place. She really wished she had just attempted to walk it all off again.

  The minutes ticked by so slowly as they sat, waiting for the return of the doctor. Why did medical institutions always feel like a time warp? Sitting in the hospital bed waiting on test results and to be finally cleared to go home and put this despicable day behind her, she sighed in frustration.

  “More coffee?” Zander asked—she’d learned his first name in the ambulance when things did get uncomfortably close. The EMT wasn’t kidding that it would be a tight squeeze. Zander had felt the least he could do after invading her personal space was to tell her his first name.

  Zander gestured toward the empty cup on her side table. He’d smuggled her one in when the nurse refused to allow her to have anything but water. She was thankful for his rebellion. If she was going to be stuck here, at least it was with someone who understood the importance of coffee in times of crises.

  “No, I’m okay. Thank you.”

  “Admittedly, it isn’t Starbucks. But I guess it will do in this situation.”

  She smirked. “You mean they didn’t have espresso shot options or whipped cream? Honestly, the service around here.”

  “When we spring you from this joint, I promise I’ll get you a real coffee, okay?”

  “Sounds heavenly,” she said, meaning it. She tucked the tissue away, realizing that without really doing anything, he’d managed to calm her tears and bring back a sense of peace. Even in this place, one of her worst nightmares, this guy she barely knew somehow brought a sense of calmness to her life. Despite all of the embarrassment of the day, she was glad that if anyone was going to be with her today, it was this guy.

  Zander Riley had been a tremendous comfort and, in truth, the only thing keeping her somewhat holding it together in the hospital. It helped that his hands were strong and sent a jolt right through her the whole way in the ambulance. Despite her quaking fear, he’d reassured her with his soothing voice and joking nature.

  He was a good one. She could tell. And, if she were going to be trapped in her worst nightmare here, she was thankful she had him by her side.

  But she did feel like a horrible person, making him sit here on his weekend with her just because she’d been a klutz. She felt selfish and foolish for not being brave enough to face the hospital on her own. It wasn’t like she was having a random brain surgery. Things were pretty minor, in the scheme of things. Still, she was glad to have a friendly face sitting near her, even if she’d just learned the name of the friendly face a few hours ago.

  “I’m really sorry. I know I’m ruining your day,” she said again, looking out the window beside her bed and feeling helpless.

  “Stop apologizing. I told you it’s fine.”

  “I feel bad you’re still here. It’s been hours. Surely you have things you could be doing. I’m sure the test results will be fine. The doctor already said I probably don’t have a concussion. Really, you can go,” she argued again.

  Zander shook his head, staring at her from what looked like an uncomfortable seat beside her bed. “Wow, really trying to get rid of me? Am I that bad of company? I mean, I know the coffee is weak, but I thought at least the company was so-so, no?”

  “I just feel awful about being an imposition.”

  “You’re not. It’s all good. I’m the kind of guy who sees things through, terrible coffee and all. And I’m lucky, in a way. I mean, I get to spend one-on-one time with a Broadway actress. Who gets to say that?”

  “Some Broadway actress. One who falls off the balcony and makes you miss the show.”

  He waved her off. “I’ve seen the play before already. It’ll be okay.”

  “Really?” she asked, interested now. They’d talked about all the basic pleasantries in between doctors and nurses popping in and prodding her or whisking her away for a test. Honestly, they acted in here like she’d fallen from the Eiffel Tower. She felt a bit ridiculous.

  “What, don’t I look like the Broadway type?”

  Rachel smiled. “I’ve
learned there are all sorts of types on Broadway.”

  Zander sighed now, a weak smile telling her she’d said something wrong.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Nothing. I just… once upon a time, I would’ve given anything to be one of the Broadway performing types.”

  “Really? What stopped you?”

  He shrugged. “Life. Some bad choices. Some mistakes. It’s pointless anyway. It wouldn’t have worked out.”

  She played with the tissue in her hand, not sure what to say but feeling the pain of this no-longer-such-a-stranger.

  “Were you in theater in high school?” she asked, smiling.

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  “Any fun roles?”

  “I was Danny in Grease my senior year.”

  She laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “What, is that so hard to imagine? Don’t I have the greaser vibe?”

  “Give me a few lines,” she demanded, studying him and trying to picture him in the signature leather jacket.

  He shook his head, eyes averted to the floor. “No, it’s been forever.”

  “Come on. I need some entertainment.”

  He sighed, shaking his head. He stared out the window, as if deep in thought. For a long moment, she thought he was going to say no again.

  But then, he finally nodded and burst into “Summer Nights.”

  And he was good. Really good. When he sang, his whole face lit up, and he just came to life. Rachel could see that Zander wasn’t just good at singing and theater—it was what he loved.

  When he finished and Rachel clapped, he shook his head.

  “Stop. I know I’m not good anymore. It’s been too long.”

  “Are you kidding? That was so good, Zander. Truly. And it’s never too late, you know. I’ve been down that road before. I used to think I’d missed my chance. But here I am, fighting my way up.”