Love, Scars, & Shooting Stars

Chapter Seven

"...this is Finn. My son."

Cameron Shepherd could only stare back at her, and Julie knew that any chance she may have had at getting this job was long gone now—if she'd learned anything at all during the past eleven months of job hunting, it was that. An endless moment passed before he finally snapped out of his stupor and turned to face her son.

"Finn, huh?" he said, by way of greeting. "That's a cool name."

"Yeah, if by 'cool' you mean stupid," Finn snorted, jamming his hands into his pockets as he slouched against the doorframe.

"Phineas!" Julie whipped around in her seat, mortified by her son's rudeness.

"Well, it is a stupid name," he challenged, and then moved closer to argue his case to Cameron Shepherd. "She got it from some dumb book that she read in high school."

"Knowles?" Cameron cocked an eyebrow in Julie's direction as he correctly guessed the author.

"Yes! You've read it?" she grinned, pleasantly surprised, and then turned to her son with a victorious grin. "See?"

"He said he's read it, he didn't say it was good," Finn muttered, rolling his eyes. "So can I have a dollar or not? I want to get a soda at the store."

Julie fixed him with a hard stare and reluctantly reached for her wallet. Finn knew they couldn't afford any frivolous spending right now, but he also knew that she would never admit that in public, and he was taking full advantage of Cameron Shepherd's presence to get what he wanted. Ordinarily, Julie wouldn't allow him to play her that way, but every last hope they had at the moment was hanging on her getting this job. She had to convince Cameron Shepherd to hire her, and staging a family drama in front of him wasn't going to accomplish that.

"Just grab a soda from the machine over there," Cameron offered. "On the house."

Finn's eyes lit up, and he smiled for the first time in days as he scurried across the room. Naturally, he chose to take the biggest cup available, and Julie cringed inwardly at her son's careless exploitation of the man's generosity.

"Thank you," Julie said, sliding the dollar across the table.

"On the house," Cameron reminded her, sliding it back.

Julie opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted by the sound of Finn's voice as he headed for the door.

"I'll be at the library, Mom," he called back over his shoulder.

"Finn, what do you say to Mr. Shepherd?"

"Thanks," her son's voice carried in from outside as the screen door slapped closed behind him.

Julie buried her face in her hands and made a mental note to give her son a refresher course in Manners 101. When she dared to look up again, she was relieved to see that Cameron Shepherd was smiling, and didn't appear at all offended. He had an easy, boyish grin that tipped up slightly higher on the left side, revealing a small dimple in his cheek just beyond the corner of his mouth.

"I hope you'll excuse his rudeness," Julie said apologetically. "He's actually a pretty good kid, but right now he's just—" She broke off, searching for the right words.

"A teenager?" Cameron Shepherd suggested, and Julie laughed.

"Not for a few weeks yet, but he's got a head start on the attitude, believe me."

He nodded knowingly. "Don't worry, it goes away."

"You have kids?" Julie asked.

"No, but I was one once," he said, turning his attention back to her employment application. "Did you really like the book?"

"Book?" Julie asked, confused.

"Knowles," he reminded her. "A Separate Peace, I think it was called?"

"Oh, right. I'm not sure if I really got what it was supposed to be about, but it was okay," she admitted. "You?"

"I never finished it," he confessed, his lips parting in a slow grin as he glanced up from his reading. "I blew it off about midway through and paid a guy ten dollars to write my report for me."

Julie smiled and sank back in her chair, feeling somewhat more at ease and thinking that maybe she had a shot after all. She waited silently as he perused what little information she had provided on the form.

"You didn't mention that you had a son," he chided gently.

"You didn't ask," she responded. He glanced up and quirked a brow, and she realized how impertinent she'd sounded. "What I meant was that I would have brought it up, eventually. I just... wanted to be considered on my own merit first. Single mothers aren't exactly in high demand on the job market these days."

He acknowledged her point with a nod of his head and went back to perusing her application. Julie took a moment to consider herself through his eyes—new in town, no address, spotty employment history, a kid to take care of—and she had to admit that, if she were in Cameron Shepherd's place, she probably wouldn't take the risk. In fact, she could almost hear his thoughts as he studied the form in front of him, most likely thinking of a way to let her down easy.

"I was raised by a single mother," he said, so quietly that Julie wasn't sure if she had heard him correctly. He apparently hadn't intended for her to, because his eyes darted up in alarm, the deep crease between his eyebrows a clear indication that he wasn't normally prone to such personal—and clearly, painful—revelations.

He leaned back in his chair, and Julie looked closely at him for the first time, noting that his eyes were an unusual shade of blue. Not the commonly seen slate or icy blue, but deeper and more intense, like wild blueberries or the summer sky at night. He studied her for several moments without speaking, and Julie began to fidget under the weight of his scrutiny, wondering what he was thinking. Finally, while seemingly wrestling against his better judgment, Cameron Shepherd spoke.

"When can you start?"