Chapter Two
Michael rubbed his shoulder as the elevator doors slid closed. His damaged rotator cuff throbbed, bitterly reminding him of the reason he’d retired early from the NFL. Clocking that guy with his briefcase had irritated the injury, but it took him down, so it was worth it.
When the doors parted, he lifted a hand in greeting to the receptionist, then headed down the long, quiet hall toward his office. The light scent of Dani’s perfume clung to his jacket just as thoughts of her lingered in his mind. What kind of a case could she be helping Jake with?
Maybe there was a piece of art or jewelry that needed identifying. Besides being rich and having luxuries growing up, Dani had been a full-time college student since high school, earning four advanced degrees. No one could call the lady stupid—she’d always been a genius with computers—but her degrees were all in incredibly impractical subjects like history, art, philosophy, and some sort of cinematic-appreciation thing. Being a professional student had probably been her way of keeping Annalisa’s money coming so she could put off the inevitability of growing up and getting a real job.
As soon as he entered his office, his assistant’s voice rang out through the intercom. “Ron wants to see you right away.”
Swearing under his breath, he tossed his beat-up briefcase onto his desk, and then headed down the long hall adorned with leather furniture and expensive art. He’d partnered with Ron because Ron was the most successful lawyer in town, and because Ron was his stepfather. But as the years passed, Ron’s true colors had shone through, so Michael was actively seeking a way to end their partnership.
Knocking on Ron’s doorjamb, Michael stuck his head inside, dismayed to see his stepbrother, Chad, there, too.
Ron, a vain, sandy-haired man, looked up from his desk. “Ah, Michael, there you are. Come in.” When Ron forced a smile, there was barely a wrinkle on his face. He’d gone under the knife to hold off the ravages of aging one too many times. He looked as fake as his spray tan. “We need to discuss Annalisa’s latest request.”
His stepbrother sat with his arms crossed, looking like a beach bum in an expensive suit. He sent Michael a sneer. “You lucky dog. I might divorce my wife just so I can fulfill all of Annalisa Botelli’s needs.”
Wary, Michael glanced at Ron, who was chuckling. The man would bill his own mother to write up a will.
Ron said, “Annalisa would like the pleasure of your company for dinner tonight. She’d like to uh . . . discuss the terms of one of her upcoming projects.”
“Why me?” Being a trial lawyer, he didn’t specialize in divorce and entertainment law like Ron and Chad. “I’ve only worked on Dani’s issues in case they went to court. Why wouldn’t one of you look over Annalisa’s projects?”
Ron’s lips tilted into a smirk. “I doubt she wants to talk contracts. You’re young, fairly handsome, recently single, and she likes men who work out. But she doesn’t poach, so since I’ve been married to your mother, I haven’t been able to help her in the way she might expect from you tonight. I want to be sure that you—Mr. Morality—understand that Annalisa is our largest, most profitable client, and whatever she wants she gets.”
Michael stared into Ron’s eyes for a long moment, trying to contain his rising temper. Michael had known Annalisa since he was a kid. She’d never want him that way. Would she? “I’ll be happy to have dinner and discuss any legal matters she has on her mind.”
“See, Dad.” Chad snorted out a laugh. “I told you. It’s no wonder his ex-wife turned to women.” He swiveled toward Michael. “So that recent article in the Journal naming you as one of the top-ten eligible bachelors in town was just for show, wasn’t it? Oh sure, you were the man at one time, going from Joe College Superstar to the Dallas Cowboys, but that little unfortunate accident brought an end to all of that, didn’t it, sunshine? You date a lot of women, but you can’t keep one happy for long, can you, Michael?”
He’d wanted to deck Chad for far too long, and here was his chance. Just as he clenched his fist to smash it into Chad’s slimy face, their secretary’s voice rang out. “Michael, your mother called. She’s running late and wants you to meet her at the restaurant.”
He lowered his fist to his side and let out a long breath. Chad wasn’t worth it.
“Thanks.” As he walked toward the hallway, Ron called out, “Tell your mother that despite our earlier . . . disagreement, I still expect her to host the dinner party tonight.”
Michael shook his head as he punched the elevator button with his fist, wishing it were Chad’s face.
When the doors parted in the empty elevator, he stepped inside and closed his eyes. His mother had sounded upset earlier when she’d invited him to lunch. She and Ron were obviously fighting again. He hated that Ron seemed to upset his mother almost daily lately.
A chime sounded and the doors opened again. Michael stepped into the lobby, determined to blow off the bad energy from the Chad and Ron meeting. After shoving the glass office doors open, he made his way to his mom’s favorite restaurant a few blocks from his office.
The aroma of garlic and red sauce made him smile as he stepped inside the quiet Italian restaurant. He scanned the tables adorned with red-and-white checkered tablecloths. In the middle of each one sat a wine bottle with multicolored wax drippings decorating the sides.
His mother sat in a booth at the rear, her fair skin flushed and her green eyes lit with anger as she swiped at her shoulder-length dark-red hair. His mom appeared to be a delicate, beautiful woman on the outside, but she was Irish to the core, and her temper was nothing to scoff at.
He slipped into the booth across from her. “Should I go home and grab my helmet and pads? You look madder than hell.”
Maeve’s jaw clenched. “Ron’s side dish got dumped and called to tell me all about it.”
The news gut-punched him. “Ron’s been cheating on you?”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes, as if trying to regain her composure. “And it’s not the first time.”
“He’s done it before? And you didn’t tell me?” He wanted to beat the crap out of Ron—and his slimy kid, too.
“When I caught him the last time, you’d just found out about your wife and her . . . girlfriend. I didn’t want to dump my problems on top of that. Heather was lucky I was engaged in my own battles, or I would have let her have it for the way you found out. She should have been honest with you.”
The memory of that ugly incident a year and a half ago left him feeling as though he’d just been sucker punched—again. He’d tried to bury the betrayal he’d suffered but was still confused by it. He and Heather had usually had sex a few times a week the whole time they’d been married. They’d had two beautiful girls together, too. Carly and Amanda.
It had come as a complete shock when he’d arrived home early from a business trip and found her in bed with another woman. Heather had once hinted that she’d experimented with women in college, but she’d made it sound like a one-time deal. But since the divorce, he’d found out Heather had lied about a lot of things. “I still don’t know how she kept something that big of a secret from me.”
His mom waved her hand impatiently. “You didn’t know because Heather is an extremely attractive bisexual woman who uses sex as a weapon. I’m not sure she knows what it is to truly love, and while I think that’s sad, you couldn’t have known something about her that she doesn’t seem to understand about herself.”
“Thank you, Dr. Laura, but it’s still embarrassing.”
“It’s no reflection on you.” His mom picked up her menu and studied it. “But the way you’ve been chasing anything in a skirt makes me wonder if you’re trying to prove something to yourself. Serial dating isn’t making you happy, honey.”
He needed to change the subject. “I’m more interested in your problem. Ron doesn’t deserve you. Let’s find you a good divorce lawyer.”
“I can’t, Michael. Ron has all the money hidden away. When I threatened to leave him, he told me I’d never find it and I’d be left with nothing.” She lifted her moist eyes and met his gaze. “He knows I can’t afford to leave him. No one wants to hire a fifty-five-year-old woman whose only work experience was planning parties for a movie star years ago.”
“You don’t have to worry about money. I’ll always take care of you, Mom.” He hated that Ron had stolen his mother’s self-esteem, turning her into his party-planning trophy wife.
He took her hand. “After Dad died, you did an incredible job of taking care of us. You’re forgetting that you impressed Annalisa so much she offered you a great job, and she respected you enough to let us live in her guesthouse. You’re one tough broad, and Ron doesn’t have any idea who he’s messing with.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Maeve narrowed her eyes. “But I didn’t say I was giving up. I’m going to find that money, then take what’s mine. Will you help me?”
“I’ll start digging through his files this afternoon—assuming I can keep Annalisa’s princess out of jail.” He mentioned Dani because he hated to see his mother sad, and for some odd reason, the mention of Dani always brightened his mom’s mood.
The creases in her forehead smoothed. “So, did you catch up with her at the courthouse?”
“Yeah. She’s coming back to irritate me again this afternoon—that is, if she remembers our appointment.” He took a long drink of water as the morning’s events replayed in his mind. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to tell his mom about Dani’s run-in with the lunatic. She’d just worry about her.
When his mom’s eyes lit up, just as they always did right before she was going to butt into his life again, he nearly moaned.
She could barely contain her excitement as she leaned closer and said, “Speaking of Dani, you need to buy a house. Apartment life isn’t good for your girls. They need a yard to play in. Why don’t you ask her to help you?”
He choked on his water. “Are you serious? Dani would make the simple process of buying a house a disaster.” He’d planned to buy a house for some time but had been so busy at work he hadn’t gotten around to it.
“She’s the daughter of one of your biggest clients. Annalisa would be upset if you used anyone else.” His mother picked up her menu again and studied it, letting her words settle in.
“Look, while you find Dani—”
“Charming and irresistible?”
“I don’t need her drama. What I need is order in my life now that the dust has settled from my divorce.” He pretended to consider his menu, but his mom was right. He didn’t want to piss off their largest client.
After running the problem around in his head for a few moments, he laid his menu down and glanced up in time to catch his mother trying to hide her smug smirk. “Okay. I’ll ask her. But only because it’ll be good for business.”
“Good.” His mom’s smile bloomed. “Did she finally get Jake to sign the papers?”
“No. But she needs to. He’s been nothing but trouble for her. Dani needs to find someone who’s a grown-up rather than . . .” He trailed off and stared at his menu again. He wasn’t going there.
His mother leaned across the table and whispered, “That’s a whole lot of concern coming from a man who doesn’t want Dani’s drama. But until Jake signs the papers, you need to cool those jets, sweetheart.”
“Believe me, there are no jets to cool here.” Or at least none he was going to act on. He’d always been attracted to Dani, but she’d been the one to abruptly end their friendship before he could tell her how he felt about her, not him, and she’d cut his heart out. Then Heather, the only other woman he’d ever loved, betrayed him. Who needed it?
“Mmmm” was his mother’s quiet response.
He shook his head and concentrated on the menu. It was futile to argue with his mother’s all-knowing hum. “Oh, I almost forgot. Ron said he was still expecting you to host some party tonight?”
“Yeah. Like that’s going to happen. Ron can go straight to hell.”
Dani stepped into the master bedroom of Jake’s latest crime scene, and her jaw dropped. As she scanned the humongous room, her eyes began to ache as badly as her face did. The curtains, bedspread, wallpaper, and even the carpet were all a shade of cotton-candy pink.
“You’d better hope the husband doesn’t claim having to sleep in this room is grounds for an insanity plea. One look at this and no jury in the land would convict him,” Dani said as she studied the nauseating decor. “This is more pink than a stomach-upset ad would feel justified using.”
Jake shook his head and laughed. “I don’t know any guy who’d put up with this shit.”
When she walked into the equally pink bathroom, the chuckle died on her lips as an ice-cold chill ran up her spine. The blood splatter on the wall reminded her of the reason she was there. Drawing a deep breath, she moved toward the jet tub. She was just about to place her hands on the side, then stopped. “Do I need gloves?”
“No, we’ve already dusted that. Go ahead.”
She laid her hands on the cool marble tub where the woman had died, closing her eyes and opening her mind for whatever the universe saw fit to fill it with. Still pictures began furiously slamming into her brain, like an out-of-control slide show.
Studying the images, trying to make them slow down, she saw a pair of male hands, a gun in the left one. “The wife was in the tub, painting her nails. I can see the bottle; it was called ‘Pink Champagne.’” She took her hands off the edge of the tub, waiting for the images to stop. They were moving too fast and began to blur into fuzzy walls of color. After she cleared her mind, she laid her hands on the tub and tried again. “She had her eyes closed, lounging in the tub when he came in and shot her.”
Her head seared fiercely with the familiar pain that always accompanied her visions, but she forced herself to continue to watch the gruesome scenes. Focusing on the details and not the poor woman, she asked, “Where’s the nail polish? It’s gone after he shoots her. Why would he take it?” She opened her eyes and met Jake’s gaze.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. There weren’t any nail polish bottles on the tub or counters when we got here.” He snapped on a pair of gloves and rifled through drawers and cabinets. He found a big plastic box under the sink containing multiple jars of polish. “Is it in here?”
Dani quickly scanned the collection of little colorful jars. She started to reach for the shade she recognized before Jake nudged her hand aside. He picked up the bottle she indicated with his gloved hand. Checking the label, he showed it to her. When she nodded in recognition, he said, “She might’ve had a second bottle, but this one is half-full. Why would he take the time to put it back?”
Dani sighed and shook her head. “It’s important Jake, but I don’t know why, yet.”
She was so tired it was hard to concentrate. But she closed her eyes again to regain her focus. A moving image of a pink bunny playing a bass drum appeared, but the beat wasn’t right. “Jake, what’s that movie whose theme goes ba-dump . . . ba-dump . . . ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-duuuuump?”
He frowned as he considered it. “The Pink Panther? God, honey, please don’t tell me we’re doing movie clues again? I’ll never be able to watch another Julia Roberts flick after the last case.”
Nothing was making any sense. She slumped onto the side of the tub in frustration.
Jake grasped her by the upper arms and pulled her back to her feet. “You’re doing great. Then what, babe? Come on, you can do this.”
She willed herself to see the rest and placed her palms on the tub again. “He laid his hand on her neck—to check her pulse.”
Jake leaned down and whispered, “Did the hands have gloves?”
“Navy blue, but only the left. The right hand was bare.”
“I knew it.” Jake blew out a long slow breath. “The scumbag is left-handed.” He pulled her closer. “Can you see the rest?”
“There’s no more in here.”
He tugged her toward the master closet. “How about in here?”
She scanned the monstrously large closet. It had endless rows of clothes, built-in shelves, mirrors, drawers, and even a dry-cleaning system on one wall. There was a pink, cushioned center island, and two other walls held a series of cubbies big enough for two hundred pairs of shoes. The last wall was cedar lined, sending off a pleasant aroma, and it held an array of evening gowns, most in shades of red or pink.
She closed her eyes, and the bunny started banging more loudly. He turned tight circles in the closet where they stood, but she didn’t understand what it meant. “I’m not getting anything new in here, either. Still just the bunny in those battery commercials and the movie theme song.”
Jake led her out of the master bedroom and down the hall to a smaller bedroom. They crossed to the bed that had been stripped of its mattress. Dani laid her hand on the headboard. It had so much energy it shocked her, and she jerked her hand off.
Unable to watch the horrid scene, she turned away. “He walked in here and pointed the gun at Jared’s heart. The little boy’s name was Jared, and he was awake. He knew he was going to be shot. Then the gloved finger squeezed the trigger.” The little boy had big blue eyes and—oh God—it’d be a long while before she’d stop seeing the terror in them. “Who could do that, Jake? This guy’s a monster.” Dani’s head roared with pain, her knees grew weak, and her whole body shook with repulsion. She had to stop; she couldn’t take any more.
Jake moved next to her, running a soothing hand up and down her spine. “You and I are gonna lock that monster up forever. What happened next?”
Her mind went blank. Only the annoying theme song still whispered in her ears. “That’s it. That’s all there is. Sorry.”
Jake led her out of the room. “How about I search online for all the Pink Panther movies while you have your meeting with the horny lawyer? Then we’ll go back to your place, watch the movies, and try to figure this out. I’ll pick up a bottle of Chianti, and we’ll order a pizza.”
Totally spent, Dani ignored his comment about Michael and sagged against him. “Okay.”
Dammit, she’d just done it again. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t get involved in another of Jake’s cases. But how could she deny the family members of that poor little boy and his mother the one thing that might help heal their pain? To see the murderer sent to prison forever.
Jake checked the lock on the front door after they were outside. “Do you think the movie is the newer version or one of the classics?”
“I have no idea.” Exhausted, Dani lifted her hands in confusion. “I hate those movies.”
“Are you kidding? They’re hilarious.” He chuckled as he led her down the long driveway, quoting his favorite one-liners from the films. Thank God he’d run out of them by the time they’d finally reached the car.
“Hey, why don’t I get us some microwave popcorn, too? It could be a long night.” He gave her a quick eyebrow hitch as he opened the car door for her.
Dani fastened her seat belt and crossed her arms, waiting for him to slide in beside her. When he was settled, she said, “I want extra butter, and you’re not spending the night.”
“Man, you’ve gotten strict.” Jake started the engine, then laid his arm across the back of the seat as he backed out of the driveway. His fingers snaked up, resting on the back of her neck, and gave her a light squeeze. “Why don’t we wait and see what you say after we polish off that bottle of wine?”
Michael glanced up from his desk, suddenly forgetting all about the phone conversation he was having with a friend he had made plans with for the evening. Dani leaned against his doorjamb, her arms crossed, studying him with her exotic eyes. They were a mixture of gold, brown, and green, and he’d never seen any quite like them.
He tore his gaze from hers and noted the time. Three o’clock. Exactly. Would wonders never cease?
He motioned her inside as he continued his phone conversation.
His friend droned on about their teams’ chances at the playoffs while Dani strolled around his office, examining the art hanging on the walls he’d bought from Dani’s best friend, Zoe. Dani wore the same damaged clothes from earlier, her hair still a rat’s nest of loose, wild curls, and her bruised face displayed a litany of color.
She’d never looked more beautiful.
Dani was the only woman he’d ever known who, while she was beautiful and always dressed nicely, had absolutely no vanity. She hadn’t changed much from when they were ten, both of them running wild on her mother’s estate and having the time of their lives.
When exactly had their relationship changed? They’d gone from being best buddies to arch enemies when they’d hit puberty, and he’d never figured out why.
His attention was drawn back to his phone call when his friend’s voice buzzing in his ear had finally ceased. “A client just walked in, so I have to let you go. Sorry I had to bail on you tonight.” He hung up and leaned back in his chair, waiting for Dani to finish her perusal.
She turned and assaulted him with a sexy smirk. “Breaking dates and hearts along the way, Mr. Most Eligible Bachelor in Town?”
Had everyone read that ridiculous article? He could’ve told her the truth; instead he shrugged. “Keeps me busy. But that’s not nearly as interesting as the story must be about you scaling the mayor’s wall while being chased by guard dogs.”
She rolled her eyes and, ignoring him, gestured toward a picture on the wall. “You’ve got two of Zoe’s paintings. I’m shocked. I thought your tastes were much too conservative for her style. I’d have thought a tedious country scene with hunting dogs would be more up your boring legal alley.”
“You should be glad I’m not staring at guns all day. It’s hard enough to resist using one on my most annoying client.”
Her cocky smile disappeared.
He’d hit a nerve, so now he was duty bound to go for the kill. “Zoe’s work has become more refined and mature with time. Maybe some of that will rub off on her best buddy, too, one day.”
Her right brow shot up. “Good one, Michael. I’m impressed. I’ll bet you’ve been saving that one up for weeks.”
He smirked but hated to admit that it still stung a little that Zoe had taken his place as Dani’s best friend when she’d dumped him, and they’d remained so. He’d always liked Zoe despite that, so he asked, “How is she?” and motioned his hand toward one of his guest chairs.
Dani winced as she slowly lowered herself onto the burgundy leather chair in front of his desk, sending a stab of guilt to his gut for his earlier joke about the gun. He’d have to take it a little easier on her—at least until she recovered from her parking lot attack.
When she was settled, Dani lifted her chin, her icy demeanor firmly back in place. “Zoe has a great husband, three kids, and is painting her heart out. She’s absolutely content with her life. I’ve never known anyone else who could say that.” The coolness fled from Dani’s eyes, and the corners of her perfect cupid-bow upper lip tilted. “Remember how everyone couldn’t believe she wasn’t going to college after we graduated? All the teachers and counselors worried about her. They thought she’d end up a big hippie like her goofy parents.”
“Yeah.” He smiled at the memory. “She always knew what she wanted. She once said to me, after a few beers, ‘Why do I need a college degree? I’m going to be a famous painter. Just ask Dani.’ Was that, like, an inside joke or something?”
“Yeah, sort of.” Dani shifted in her chair. “What do I need to sign?”
He pushed a stack of papers toward her. “First, Ron reprinted your divorce papers. You can sign them now, but I think I’d wait until you get Jake to sign. That way the signature dates won’t be a year apart or more.”
“You’re just a riot these days, Mikey.” She chuckled as she examined the stack before her. “Jake will sign them soon. He’s coming around.” She looked up and her smile faded. “It was more my fault than his that things didn’t work out.”
The misery in her eyes surprised him. He didn’t think his ex-wife would admit something like that, even though she and the other girl were caught in the act. “Well, it’s good you’re still friends. Heather and I are struggling with that for our girls’ sake.” He pushed the divorce papers aside and replaced them with another stack of papers. “So, if you’ll promise to give up wall climbing forever, sign these where indicated and give me a check for twenty-five hundred to cover the fine, your trespassing charge will miraculously disappear.” He handed her his pen.
Dani’s eyes widened. “Twenty-five hundred dollars?”
When he nodded, she said, “Um, okay. But I’ll need a few days to come up with that much.”
He knew her well enough to know he wasn’t seeing evasion in her expression this time but absolute embarrassment. He didn’t know why she wouldn’t just ask her mother for the money, but then he’d never understood the relationship between Dani and Annalisa. “It needs to be paid this afternoon, or the deal is off. That’s why I had to hunt you down at the courthouse. I can just bill your mother for it.”
“No! You don’t understand. I can’t take . . .” Panic found a home in Dani’s eyes as she trailed off. Her forehead crumpled, and it appeared she was about to go into some in-depth explanation he was sure he didn’t want to hear.
“I’ll pay this and then bill you later so we can file today. You can pay me back whenever you can, or we’ll just take it out of your commission.”
“Commission? What are you talking about?” Relief and confusion waltzed across her face as she quickly signed her name.
His conversation with Ron still gnawed at his gut. Surely Annalisa wasn’t interested in him like that, but he wasn’t taking any chances. “I need to buy a house. You’re a Realtor now, evidently, so I thought maybe you’d like to help me out?”
“I guess I could tolerate being around you for more than ten minutes if a big, fat commission check is involved. What kind of price range are we—”
“That is, if you’ll do me one favor.” It looked like Dani was going to flip her lid. Might be fun to watch.
Dani’s hopes for a huge commission check quickly faded as she frowned and crossed her arms. “I knew there’d be a catch.”
There was always a catch with him.
Michael said, “Your mother has asked me to have dinner with her tonight, at her home, and I was hoping you could join us.”
“Why?” A little alarm sounded in her head.
“No particular reason, other than it might make things more . . . comfortable.”
Comfortable? That didn’t make sense. Michael had known her mom since he was ten. He and Maeve had lived in the same guesthouse, which Dani currently occupied, for ten years. Something was definitely up. “Nope, not buying it. Spill it, Reilly.”
He raised his hands in resignation. “Ron mentioned that . . . well, your mother and he . . . and she didn’t poach but . . . now that I’m single, maybe she’d want more than that . . . like . . . sex?”
Yuck!
“Annalisa? And you? That’d just be . . . sick.”
He blew out a breath. “Especially since you and I . . . just the one night, but there’s a code of honor here. I’d never want you to feel like . . . so we agree, right? Ron’s definitely mistaken.”
Her stomach did a nasty flip at the thought of her mother with Michael. “God, I hope so.”
He leaned forward, his voice rising on a panicked plea: “There’s no way your mom would be interested in me like that? Would she?”
She was about to say no, before she realized her mother had, if you believed the tabloids, been with a few men recently who were about her and Michael’s age. And she had to reluctantly admit that Michael was tall, dark-haired, and extremely good-looking. Just her mother’s type.
Most every woman’s type.
“I already have plans for dinner, but maybe I’d better join you for dessert.” Or else Michael might end up being dessert.
“Yes. Please.” Nodding like a bobble-head doll, he added, “Why don’t you come over about eight thirty?”
“Okay. But if my mom’s really serious about you, she’ll just shoo me back to the guesthouse.”
Michael’s bobbing head stilled. He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe we could say I need to go back to your place and look at MLS listings because you’re going to help me buy a house?”
That made sense, but they might need more. If her mom was thinking that way—and jeez, that’d be creepy—she’d just tell her they could do it later. No, she had no choice. She knew what they had to do. “If my mom thinks that you and I are, you know, interested in each other, she’d never . . . oh God, I can’t even think about that. So, anyway, I’ll come over about eight thirty and give you a little peck on the cheek, making you off-limits, and all should be well. Okay?”
Michael took her hand, stunning her when he gave it a friendly squeeze. “Thank you, Dani.” His touch sent that stupid zing racing up her arm again, landing like a warm arrow in her heart.
His large hand was still wrapped around hers as she studied his grateful expression. Most men would jump at the chance to sleep with Annalisa Botelli, not caring if they’d slept with her daughter first, but not Michael. He was truly one of the good guys, always choosing the high road.
Michael had hurt her more deeply than anyone ever had, and he didn’t even know it. She hardly could have told him she had to part ways with him because it had been too painful knowing he’d marry Heather and break her heart. Her damn dreams had ruined her relationship with the first boy she’d ever loved. And a few more after that.
She pushed away the bad memories and focused on the present. Even though she never let an opportunity pass to annoy Michael, she’d always respected him. So instead of sending him one of her typical acidic remarks, she tugged her hand out of his light grasp and gave him a genuine smile. “No problem. See you later.”
Strangely, the prospect of seeing him later didn’t fill her with the usual dread. That blow to her head earlier must’ve been harder than she’d thought.