heads hanging, the girls lumbered away as if part of a funeral procession.
A round of applause broke out around the room from the patrons who occupied the other tables.
April released a weary laugh and bowed, accepting their praise.
“I’m sorry for the interruption,” she said in a voice that carried around the room.
She turned to Damien. She looked as if she’d just gone ten rounds with a heavyweight fighter, though he sensed that her exhaustion had more to do with those girls potentially getting kicked out of the program than the physical exertion of breaking up the fight.
“How often are you required to play referee?” Damien asked.
“Thankfully, not that often,” she said. “This is only the second fight this year. It’s a part of my job that I’m not all that fond of, but it has to be done.”
“You do it well,” Damien said. “Of course, you had practice. So maybe I should take some credit after all.”
“Oh, believe me, I remember,” April said with a laugh.
She’d been witness to many of the skirmishes Damien had found himself in while growing up in these streets. She’d never gotten in the middle of them the way she had today, but afterward, while she helped clean whatever scrapes he’d amassed during the fight, she would let him know how disappointed she was in him. It was the knowledge that he disappointed her that eventually quelled Damien’s desire to engage in that kind of behavior.
April Knight made him want to be a better person. She always had.
“Will those girls really be kicked out of the program?” Damien asked as they returned to their table.
She nodded. “For the rest of the summer. They can apply to gain entrance next summer.”
“So A Fresh Start actually adheres to its zero-tolerance policy, huh?”
“It wasn’t always that way,” April said with a laugh. “Let’s just say that I’m not the only sucker for puppy-dog eyes and apologies around here. We have a staff full of bleeding hearts, but once we noticed that the amount of infractions was increasing instead of decreasing, we finally put our collective feet down.
“We’ve discovered that a strictly enforced zero-tolerance policy is a lot more effective than paying lip service. And the more activities we add to the program, the more it makes kids want to stick to the rules so they can continue to participate.”
April folded her hands one on top of the other, and said, “So, exactly what were you saying before we were interrupted?”
Damien nodded. “As I mentioned before, Alexander Properties now owns a large square of real estate in the Lower Ninth Ward, but in order to develop it I’ll need investors. There are several social events happening over the summer that will put me in the same space with some of the New Orleans area’s most prominent business owners. The key word in all of that is social.”
“Okay,” April said, dragging the word out. “And I fit in where?”
“I don’t want to show up stag at any of these events, but I also don’t want to deal with any messy relationship crap. This top ten bachelor thing will just make it worse. My focus has to be on business, not on worrying about whether or not my date is entertained.”
April sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest.
“Is this the sales pitch you prepared? Because if so, you suck at this selling thing. I’m surprised your business is as successful as it is.”
Damien put both hands up. “Okay, so maybe that didn’t come out exactly the way I thought it would.”
“Let me see if I understand,” April said. “You basically want me to be a warm body in a pretty dress who can fend off other women so that you can concentrate on business.”
Damien’s shoulders lifted in a hapless shrug. “Basically, yeah.”
She caught the lone sugar packet on the table and flipped it between her fingers. “Why me?” April asked. “If there is one area where you are not lacking, it’s the old girlfriend department. At least one of those relationships had to have ended amicably enough for you to call in a favor.”
“If I asked any of my old girlfriends, they would take it the wrong way, probably thinking that I wanted a reconciliation or something.” He looked over at her, hoping to infuse as much pleading into his expression as possible. “Please, April. I promise not to take up too much of your time. We’re talking three to four events, tops. Maybe five if I’m able to score tickets to the charity auction for the Children’s Hospital.”
“You don’t expect me to answer right away, do you?”
Actually, he had. Kinda.
“No,” Damien said, shaking his head. “I figured you’d need some time to think about it. It’s just that, um, the first event is Friday night, so I’ll need to know pretty soon.”
Damien reached over and covered the hand that still toyed around with the sugar packet. He gave it a light squeeze.
“Please, April,” he pleaded. “At least think about it. And then say yes.”
Several moments stretched between them before she said, “I’ll think about it. I’ve got another music class starting in a few minutes, so I need to go, but I’ll get back to you later today.”
Damien stood, a smile drawing across his face. “I guess that’ll have to be good enough for now,” he said. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll talk to you later. Thanks for considering this, April.”
He winked at her, then started for the exit, feeling a whole lot better than he had when he’d first walked through these doors.
* * *
I need you to be my girlfriend.
Her stupid heart gave a stupid leap of joy as April replayed Damien’s words in her mind, even after discovering just what he’d meant by that. He needed her to be his fake girlfriend. A pretend love interest. A phony plaything he could drape on his arm so that he wouldn’t have to deal with any of the women who—if he were not tied up with this special project of his—would actually be candidates to be his real girlfriend. Damn him for giving her those few brief seconds of hope.
She snapped the lid closed on the violin case with more force than necessary.
“You’re an idiot,” April said with a disgruntled sigh. “But at least you broke up that fight today before any limbs were lost, so you’re not completely pathetic.”
“You talking to yourself again?”
April yelped and swung around, finding Nicole standing in the doorway.
“Girl!” April yelled, holding her hand to her chest.
“Sorry.” Nicole laughed. “I couldn’t help it.” The twenty-five-year-old sauntered into the room where April had just finished up her intermediate music class. Nicole
