Free Berch by V. Vaughn Page B

umbrella.
    I face forward quickly when the sound of Berch’s footsteps approaches. I release the pressure on my knee and find the bleeding has stopped. He takes my napkin from my hand and replaces it with my shoes. I say, “Thanks.”
    Berch unties my sneaker. I silently gasp when he takes my foot and slips it into the shoe. His hand is warm on my skin, and his touch is gentle. Feeling like Cinderella, I gaze at my prince as he does the laces.
    Berch’s silence is unsettling, so I ask, “So what are you up to these days?”
    “I teach eighth-grade science.” He steps out of my way as I scoot to the edge of the seat to jump down from the truck.
    I land on my feet, and the impact sends a jolt up my legs. I glance up at Berch. At five foot four, I’m minuscule next to a man who is well over six feet tall. “I’ll bet you’re good at it.”
    “I like to think so. What are you doing now?”
    Oh boy, the question of the night. I left Winter Valley for the big city, sure I was going to change the world. I made a salutatorian speech encouraging our class to do the same. But almost a year of pounding the pavement for a job in investment finance while waiting tables proved otherwise. I’ll be swallowing that bitter pill multiple times tonight. “I’m between jobs and considering a move to Morgan Stanley.” Which is true. I did quit my restaurant job, leaving me unemployed, and sent out a round of resumes, including one to Morgan Stanley.
    “How long are in you town?”
    “I’m not sure.” I sigh because I don’t like the queasy stomach I have from giving Berch my reunion cover story.
    “Maybe you’ll consider getting a job here.”
    Berch holds the door to the old wooden building open for me, and I gaze into his eyes to discover he’s serious. My heart skips a beat. Berch Lindholm wants me to stick around? Staying here would mean a bank job as a teller and working my way up to the loans department with the hope of making bank president some day. Not exactly living the dream.
    “You never know, it depends on what I find.”
    I enter the building to the high-pitched voice of my high school friend Amber. “Raven!”
    When we finish our embrace, I turn to thank Berch for his help. But he’s gone.

CHAPTER TWO
    W inter Valley High is small, and my graduating class was just shy of one hundred, most of whom are here. After I checked in, Amber and I made our way to the raffle table to peruse what had been donated from local businesses.
    I say to Amber, “I heard you’re in law school. Is it hard?”
    “It’s a lot of studying, but nothing I can’t handle.” She drops a ticket into a small paper bag set out for a bath-and-beauty basket. “What about you? Did you find your dream job yet?”
    “No. I’m in between jobs. The idea of coming back here seems kind of depressing.”
    “I know what you mean.” Amber glances around at the crowd of people. Excited conversation is buzzing amid laughter. “But it can’t be that bad. Everyone that stays seems happy.”
    Kayla sees us and makes her way across the room to say hello. “Oh my God, you guys look fantastic!” She glances down at my feet and frowns. “What’s up with the sneakers? Did you break a toe or something?”
    I lift up my knee. “No. Parking lot accident. I broke my Louboutin, and now I have to wear these horrible things I found in my mother’s goodwill bag I forgot to drop off.”
    Both girls grimace. Amber says, “Ouch, that’s totally something I’d do.”
    She launches into a story about tripping on a busy street, but the words fade, because I’ve spotted Berch. He’s talking to another guy, and I’m hoping he’ll look up and notice me. Kayla’s voice breaks through. “Raven?”
    I return to the conversation. “I’m sorry. What?”
    Amber turns to gaze in the direction I was staring. “Who are you looking at?” She whips back around with wide eyes. “Oh my, God. Who is that in the black shirt?”
    Kayla and I both say,