Susan Mallery - When We Met

A statement or a question, she wondered. “No, I’m an L.A. girl at heart. Moving to Fool’s Gold has been a transition.”

“Then why not keep the company in la-la land?”

“I was outvoted. Jack, Kenny and Sam came here for a Pro-Am golf tournament. I’m still not clear on what happened that weekend, but when they returned to work on the following Monday, they announced we were moving.” She sipped her wine again. “Score is a democracy and I was in the minority. Of course they left all the details of moving up to me.”

“Naturally.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“West Virginia.” He glanced at her and smiled. “A place you’ve never heard of. Coal mining town.”

“I’ve never been in one,” she admitted.

“There’s good and bad. A lot of poverty with one large employer. The work is hard. My mom died when I was born, so it was my dad and me. I watched him come out of that coal mine day after day and swore I was going to get out.”

“Which you did.”

“I went into the military. When I left, I got involved with a security company doing about the same kind of work without so many rules.”

She wasn’t sure what that meant. Black ops stuff? Which, like the coal mining town, was more concept than reality to her.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” she said.

“Thanks. I never knew her.” His mouth curved up again. “The women on our block decided they were going to take her place. They were always looking out for me. It was like having twelve moms instead of one. Let me tell you, it was tough to be bad.”

She laughed. “Which you wanted to be.”

His gaze locked with hers. “Nearly all the time. But I learned patience. There were still opportunities, but I had to work for them.”

A message? She held in a shiver and reminded herself he was good. Better than she was used to.

“What about you?” he asked. “Suburbs? Two-point-four siblings and a white picket fence?”

An easy question for most, she thought, the need to shiver fading as if it had never happened. Tension crept through her, but she ignored the tightening in her shoulders as she tried to calculate how much to tell. And how to tell it such that he didn’t know she was lying.

“It was my dad and me, just like you,” she said, confident their situations couldn’t have been more different. “My mom left when I was young.”

“That’s rough.”

She shrugged because the truth—that her mother had walked away from her only child, as well as her husband—was bad enough. Worse was the fact that the man had regularly beaten them both and with his wife gone, he’d only had one place to turn.

“It was L.A.,” she said lightly. “I had distractions. And now we’re both here. The people are very welcoming, if a little too involved in each other’s lives.”

“The disadvantage of a small town. There aren’t a lot of secrets.”

She relaxed as he accepted the change in topic. Every new relationship had to navigate through that rocky space. The exchange of past information. It was done and they would move on.

“How does that work for you?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a man of secrets.”

He laughed. “Less than you would think. I go to work, hang out with my friends.” Humor warmed his eyes. “I do live with a woman.”

“So I’ve heard. Consuelo Ly. She’s engaged.”

“Damn. And here I thought I was going to rile you.”

“It’s a little early to play the jealousy card. Besides, you don’t cheat.” She took a sip of her wine and wished they were sitting closer. The evening would be more interesting without this table between them.

“How do you know that?”

“Am I wrong?”

“No.”

She leaned closer. “You’re not the type. In my book, with cheating comes shame. You wouldn’t allow that emotion.” She smiled. “My business partners are guys. We spend a lot of time with each other. Let’s just say whatever I didn’t know about your gender before we went into business I’ve since learned.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “You’re right. I don’t cheat.”

“How long were you married?” Because she’d heard that he had been. Not that it was easy getting information on Angel without admitting her interest. Something she hadn’t been willing to do.

“Sixteen years.”

Okay, that was unexpected. “A long time,” she admitted. “What happened?”

“She died. A car accident.”

Five simple words spoken in a matter-of-fact tone. But Taryn heard the pain behind the sentences. Felt the wound as if it had been inflicted on her.

“I’m sorry,” she said automatically, even as she knew the phrase was ridiculous and unhelpful. “How long has it been?”

“Six years.”

The way he spoke the words told her there was still emotion there. Still caring. She liked that he hadn’t banished his wife to some back part of his memory.

“What about you?” he asked.

“I was married once. Briefly. To Jack.”

One eyebrow rose. “Your business partner Jack?”

She nodded. “I left home after high school.” A lie, but one she always told. No one had to know she’d run away at sixteen and lived on the streets. It had been tough and scary, and she’d made it through.

“After a year or two of dead-end jobs, I realized if I wanted to make something of myself, I needed to get an education. I worked my way through college and graduated when I was twenty-six.”

With a ton of debt and a sense of pride she’d never experienced before.

“Good for you.”

“Thanks.” She glanced out at the horizon, watching the last of the light fade in the west. Stars had already appeared overhead. The air was cooler, but with the heaters, she stayed warm.

“I was lucky,” she continued. “I got a PR job with the L.A. Stallions. I was broke and living in my car, but it was a chance to use my degree.”

“Marketing?” he said with a laugh. “You studied marketing.”

“I know. Not practical. I kept trying to talk myself into accounting. A solid and stable career. But I loved the creative side of business and I figured I might as well go for it. I waitressed at an all-night diner, went to class, studied and slept about four hours a night. When I got an internship, it was worse, but I didn’t care. I knew what I wanted.”

She’d thrown herself into her goals and told herself she would get a chance to sleep when she was thirty.

“My third day with the Stallions, Jack caught me eating the leftovers from some catered lunch they’d had.” She’d been wrapping sandwiches meant for the garbage in napkins with the idea that they could easily be her meals for the next couple of days.

“He took pity on me and invited me out to dinner.” She turned to Angel. “Dinner turned into breakfast. A few days later, I moved in with him.”

She waited for the inevitable “Did you love him?” Because the few people who knew the story always asked that. She hadn’t known Jack well enough to be sure how much she even liked him, but she’d been homeless and hungry and he was a good guy.

“He was a way out,” Angel said quietly, surprising her with his insight. “Better than living in your car.”

“He’s a great guy. I know that now. But at the time...” She shrugged. “Yeah, it was better than living in my car.” She paused. “Jack has a kind streak. Once he accepts you, you’re in for life. He accepted me. Over the next couple of months, I discovered I really did like him a lot. Then I turned up pregnant.”

She drew in a breath, hating how stupid that phrase always made her feel. She’d been careful, but not careful enough. When she’d realized what had happened, she’d been afraid he would think she was trying to trap him.