Marin Thomas - Ryan's Renovation

“Liar.”

Man, her eyes got to him. Bright. Blue. Animated. “What did you call me?” He was having a hell of a time keeping track of the argument.

“I called you a liar. You avoid people because you’re afraid not because you’re too busy.”

So much for keeping his soul hidden. “Not everyone is a people person like you, Anna.”

The light in her eyes dimmed. “Being friendly isn’t easy for me. I’ve worked at it all my life.”

Was she joking? “Well, practice makes perfect. The guys at the station believe you walk on water.”

“We’re like family.”

“How long have you worked for Parnell?”

“Ten years. I turned twenty-two right after I hired on.”

“You got the job right out of college?”

“I didn’t go to college. I went to beauty school, and at the time I was working in a hair salon and not liking the long hours, little pay and achy legs.”

“Then why did you go to beauty school?”

She shrugged. “I was told it was the best a girl in my situation could hope for.”

“Your situation?” Their chat had evolved into a game of twenty questions.

“My last set of foster parents convinced me that cutting hair was a decent, respectable occupation for a young woman of no means.”

Anna had grown up in the foster-care system? At least he’d had his brothers and his grandfather after his parents had passed away. “What happened to your family?”

“My mother died when I was four. I never knew my father. His name wasn’t on my birth certificate.”

He envisioned a four-year-old with humongous blue eyes, standing on a stranger’s doorstep. “I’m sorry.”

“I was lucky, I suppose, to survive foster care relatively unscathed.” She gazed unseeingly across the café, a pinched expression on her face, as if she was reliving an unpleasant memory.

The thought of Anna as a small child afraid or threatened shook Ryan in a way that not even he understood. “You’ve had a rough life.”

“Life is what you make of it.”

For a moment he considered her words, then shoved them aside. He wasn’t in the mood for the old if-life-hands-you-lemons-make-lemonade speech. Besides, they’d digressed from the purpose of their coffee outing. “Are you going to accept my apology?”

“Of course.”

That’s it? “You don’t want me to grovel?”

“No. I should apologize for bullying you in front of the men. I don’t usually lose my temper.”

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.