Mary Brady - Silver Linings

“I think it would be best if you found a reason to go away for a while,” the partner in the law firm had said, but had assured Hunter he wasn’t fired. He just needed to get out from under the thumb of the media until things got resolved or faded away.

While Hunter wasn’t an official suspect in the disappearance of Callista White, he had been a person of interest for a while until his well-respected firm had stood behind him, vouched for him.

He didn’t wish the woman ill. He did wish she would return home or let someone know where she was so he could have his life back.

“Hunter, my boy,” a familiar voice called to him from down the curb. Hunter turned to see Shamus dressed in a well-fitting dark suit, with a shock of gray hair and a pleasant smiling face. They had met only once in person, but the package was memorable and included winged eyebrows and standout ears.

Morrison and Morrison had been founded by Hunter’s great-great-grandfather and great-great-uncle. The name of the firm had stood even after the practice changed hands. When Shamus had called and asked him if he was interested in helping the firm out, he’d made an offer. It seemed there would be a Morrison at the helm again.

“Shamus,” he called back as he waved and headed for the car, an old black Ford. Hunter smiled. When he had left Maine, the car had been brand-new, and it shined like a new car today.

* * *

ONCE AGAIN AT Morrison and Morrison, Delainey had sat for the past few hours trying to work on the papers on her desk. Returning had been hard. She’d had to look into the faces of each one of them and wonder if she would soon have to say goodbye forever.

The intercom on her desk buzzed. “Yes, Patty?”

“They’re here.” Delainey was sure Patty’s whisper could be heard throughout the entire first floor. “You’d better get down here.”

Delainey got up from her desk and suddenly felt underdressed. If this person who was arriving had something to say about her future at the law firm, she wasn’t going to make her most professional impression in jeans and— Oh, come on. There were Christmas ducks on her sweater. She had let Brianna choose and her young daughter couldn’t quite give up the idea of Christmas.

Delainey always wondered if Brianna kept the hope alive that her father would suddenly show up or send a card or even presents. She sighed and slid the sweater off. The thin blouse she wore underneath let an instant chill set in and her nipples puckered, showing in hard points through her bra and blouse.

Not good. She slid the sweater back on and fluffed her hair a little. Maybe the new partner wouldn’t notice ducks with wreaths around their necks.

After she couldn’t procrastinate any longer, she decided she might as well go see what the future would hold. She had already survived quite a bit, and this new partner wasn’t going to take her down. She might have to practice law in Portland or Bangor or Lewiston or, heaven forbid, outside the state of Maine, but she wouldn’t give up on a good life for her daughter.

At the bottom of the steps, she stopped and took a few deep breaths. Then she pushed open the rear door and stepped just inside the spacious lobby. There were about fifty people there—the staff, the town council, some regular clients with spouses—and everyone seemed to be talking at once.

“Delainey.” Patty rushed up and handed her a glass of champagne. “About time you got here.”

Champagne. Great. To celebrate her demise, she thought...but she knew this was not about her. Shamus needed to do this now for some reason and she was going to have to do the “poor me” thing another time.

Across the room, near the front lobby window, a man stood with his back to her speaking with redheaded Shirley and fresh-faced Eddie, a paid intern at the office. The man was tall and wore his dark blond hair in a short, neat style. His suit, expensively cut, wrapped his well-built frame as if to say, “This is the man.” Shamus had hired a man, a man used to making money.

Poor thing was in for a big shock.

Some hope lay in that thought. She took a sip of champagne and let the bubbles fill her mouth with flavor. Whoever he was, she hoped he’d be interested in Morrison and Morrison for a couple years and then when he figured out his income would no longer support his expensive suits, cars, women, et cetera...

“Hunter,” Patty called from beside her.

The man turned to face them.

Her heart seemed to thud once and stop dead cold.

The grin on his face faltered the moment he spotted her—at least that was what it seemed like to Delainey before he recovered and smiled as he moved across the room toward her.

He stopped in front of her.

Hunter Morrison. His deep blue eyes touched by sienna near the irises scorched her soul as they had when she and Hunter were pals in high school and when they were lovers after college.

She gulped champagne until she’d drained the glass. The urge to flee nearly overran her good sense. Instead of giving in, she stood fast and as steady as the rocky Maine coast facing the ocean tides. She was a Maine woman, bred of hardy stock.

Then why couldn’t she seem to make her brain function or her heart beat?

He put a hand on her shoulder and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “Hello, Deelee,” he whispered. His breath hot on the shell of her ear restarted her heart and slammed anger to the forefront inside her head.

“Hunter Morrison.” Of all people. The one man who had never wanted to stay in Bailey’s Cove was back. She should welcome him, but right now she just wanted to kick something...or someone.

* * *

HUNTER FORCED HIS smile to stay put, but smiling to placate an obnoxious client was easier than smiling at Delainey Talbot. How in the hell was it possible she was still here in Bailey’s Cove?

He had expected law school to have opened her eyes to the world, to have shown her other options. His gaze shot to her wedding-ring finger and he was disgusted with himself and almost glad she had her hand bunched up in the unseasonal sweater covering a body that had sent a college graduate to heaven. Deelee, who, when he left Bailey’s Cove behind, saw fit to kick him out of her life for good. Her marital status was none of his business.

When she suddenly reeled and hurried away as if he had threatened her, he saw Shamus Murphy watching him. His puzzled gaze shifted back and forth between the two of them.

Greeting her as Deelee would have already given her the impression he had thought about her more than a few casual times in the years since he’d left Bailey’s Cove. He had thought of her often and none of his thoughts about Delainey Talbot had been casual.

Shamus intercepted her and gave her a long hug. The older man had not mentioned anything about Delainey being an attorney in the office. Shamus said something to her that made her look across the room at him and then nod with a dazed look as if she was trying to make sense of what Shamus was saying.

Her long blond hair still hung to the middle of her back. Age had defined her features and made her gray eyes bigger, her high cheekbones more pronounced. Her face was fully adult now and as alluring as the rest of the package, he was sure, that she hid under the large sweater with the ducks wearing Christmas wreaths.

No woman, no matter how hard he tried, had ever morphed into Delainey Talbot. When he’d found himself dating only blondes, he started dating anything but. He dated lots of women. He stopped seeing women altogether. Nothing helped.

Shamus led Delainey across the room until she stood next to him. When she looked up at him, her features were intentionally blank, an empty champagne glass in her hand.

Shamus filled each of their glasses and held his up until the two of them were obliged to clink their glasses together against Shamus’s.