“I know you do, Skye, but we don’t have the money for it.”
Skye’s shoulders slumped. “Delinda will buy it.”
“Look at me, Skye. Delinda’s money is not our money. This is not our house. I don’t want you to get confused.”
Skye glanced over her shoulder at the children who were watching them. When she looked back at Hailey, her eyes were so sad it took everything in Hailey not to burst into tears and hug her. “I understand.”
I could be doing this all wrong, Ryan, but I hope not. “Do you, Skye? Because I’m waiting on an apology for the way you spoke to me earlier. We’re on the same team, you know, and we always will be.”
“I’m sorry.” No seven-year-old had probably ever sounded more dejected.
“That’s why we’ll find a way to afford that pony. You and me. We’ll let Delinda buy it for you today, but we’ll pay her back. I’ll put aside some money, and you’ll pick up chores around the house to earn it. It’s not going to be easy. We’ll need to buy a saddle and brushes, and stabling a pony is probably very expensive. We can only get the pony, Skye, if you agree to work for it.”
Wonder returned to Skye’s eyes. “You’re letting me get her?”
Hailey held out her hand for her niece to shake. “It depends on you. Do we have a deal? Are you willing to work to buy your own pony?”
Skye bypassed the handshake and threw her arms around Hailey. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
“Does she have a name?”
“Clover,” Skye said. “You are going to be so happy you let me have her. I’m going to work hard and be good.”
She hugged her niece tighter to her. Imagine that, we both have the same personal goals. “Ready to introduce me to your new pony?”
“Oh yes!” Skye bounced and took her by the hand, dragging her toward the pony with the same determination Hailey had dragged her away with.
Delinda watched their approach with a carefully blank expression. “Is everything all right?”
“Absolutely.” The curious audience made any other response impossible. There would be time later for what she needed to say.
Skye ran her hand along the pony’s neck, beneath her mane. “You have to feel right here, Auntie Hailey. She’s so soft.”
Hailey followed the same path down the pony’s mane, and the pony threw up her head and whinnied. “She’s beautiful.”
“And she’s mine.” Skye threw her arms around the pony’s neck, and Hailey was relieved to see the calmness with which the pony accepted her affection.
Michael announced that more ice cream was being served on the front lawn. The children cheered and bolted away. The woman holding the pony’s lead line explained that the pony would be delivered to the barn that evening and they could come by anytime.
Skye looked up at her aunt. “Can I—?”
“Of course.” Hailey didn’t need to wait for the question to be asked. She’d be lucky if Skye didn’t ask to sleep there with the pony.
“May,” Delinda corrected firmly. “May I.”
Confusing Delinda’s correction with a request, Skye turned from the pony and threw her arms around Delinda’s waist. “Of course you can come with us. Right, Auntie Hailey?”
One glimpse of the hopeful light in Delinda’s eyes that mirrored Skye’s and Hailey caved. “Would you like to come with us, Delinda?”
Alessandro joined them. With Skye still clinging to her, Delinda blinked a couple of times quickly, then grasped his forearm. “Aren’t they perfect?”
Perfect for what? The hair on the back of Hailey’s neck rose in sudden apprehension.
Alessandro patted Delinda’s hand.
Skye darted off to hug the pony again before it was loaded onto a trailer. While she was out of earshot, Hailey focused on what she’d planned to say. “Delinda, Skye is going to pay you back for the pony. Please allow her to. She’s agreed to do extra chores with me to earn the money for it.”
“I see no need to have her—”
“I do, and since I’m her guardian and aunt, if I say that’s the only way she will get the pony, it’s the only way. And if you ever plan another event for her without consulting me, I will have no choice but to give you my resignation and find other employment.”
“How dare you—?”
“I dare because no one is more important to me than Skye. I like you, Delinda, and I really need this job, but nothing comes before my niece and what is best for her.”
Delinda pressed her lips together in a line, then looked at Alessandro. “It’s no wonder she can’t keep a job. Do you hear how she talks to me?”
Rather than getting angry with Delinda for the barb, Hailey recognized it as an attempt to avoid addressing the threat. “I’m serious, Delinda.”
“I can’t imagine how you could have a problem with me wanting her to have friends and getting her excited about going back to school—”
“Promise that you’ll ask me before you plan anything else for Skye.”
Delinda narrowed her eyes like a petulant child.
Hailey held her breath and raised her chin.
The second standoff of the day ended much as the one with Skye had—Delinda blinked first, then nodded her concession. Alessandro bellowed out a hearty laugh that had Delinda spinning to wag a finger at him. “Don’t you dare laugh at me.”
His grin was wide and unabashed. “They really are perfect, Delinda.”
“Hush,” Delinda said in a stern voice that did nothing to intimidate Alessandro. Her expression was serious when her eyes met Hailey’s. “I promise to consult you before I even consider doing anything nice for you or Skye. Are you happy now?”
She’s lashing out because she’s hurt. She doesn’t have an ulterior motive. She’s just a lonely old woman who doesn’t know how to connect with people. How awful to be her age, to have all the material things she had, and still not understand how relationships worked.
Hailey took a page from Skye’s book and pulled Delinda to her for a tight hug. It was a bit like embracing a plank of wood, but when Hailey stepped back, Delinda looked both flustered and moved by the experience. “Just because I don’t agree with how you did it, doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate what you did. Thank you for caring about Skye enough to arrange all of this.”
Delinda cleared her throat and in a stern tone said, “Hailey, how do you expect that poor woman to be able to load the pony with Skye hanging all over it? Take her to play with the other children before the day ends without her having made any friends at all. I didn’t invite that unruly herd here just so they could trample my flowers.”
“Of course,” Hailey said with a smile. That tough-as-nails act only makes me want to hug you again. She walked over to where Skye was promising the pony that she would visit that evening as if it could understand everything she was saying. “Skye, you have company waiting to spend more time with you.”
Skye rubbed the pony’s nose. “I have to go, Clover, but don’t worry. You’re my best friend. I’ll never leave you, and you’ll never leave me. Right, Auntie Hailey?” The uncertainty in her voice gave the question a crushing emotional weight.
Hailey wanted to promise her niece that nothing would ever come between her and Clover. Her heart broke at the realization that she couldn’t. Life didn’t work that way. Hailey had been about Skye’s age when she asked her father why she didn’t have a mother. He’d told her the truth, that her mother hadn’t wanted to be a mother anymore. At the time, it had hurt Hailey to hear it, but over time she’d understood that lies would have been worse. At least she had the truth. “Ponies are a big responsibility. Remember that you’ll have to work to repay Delinda.”
Dammit, Delinda. Couldn’t you have gotten her a bunny?
“I will,” Skye promised, and Hailey hugged her.
Hand in hand, they walked toward where the other children were playing. Will I ever watch you fumble through raising your own little ones? I hope so. Not about the fumbling part. I h
ope you do better than I am, but maybe we’ll look back and laugh at what right now feels catastrophic.
After returning Skye to the group, Hailey sat on the stone wall that lined a garden and her mind wandered to Spencer. I really can’t judge Skye for wanting something of her own.
It took being with other men to realize how unique what I had with Spencer was. Her thoughts wandered back to the simple joy of laughing for hours with him at Mangiarelli’s. We never needed more than each other to be entertained. It was that good.
Is it a mistake to go back there? I’m not that carefree girl anymore. He’s not a football-playing computer geek. What could we be now except for two strangers reminiscing over something that had been good but also too fragile to survive when tested?
He thought I broke up with him for someone else.
I thought he’d never even bothered to come after me.
What did we know?
Maybe Mangiarelli’s will be where we forgive not only each other but ourselves.
An image of him leaning over her in the hallway of his office building teased her senses. Her body warmed as she remembered how good it had felt to be near him again. He’d always been attractive, but the boy she’d known had become a man . . . a yummy, confident, sexy man. His eyes were as deliciously dark as she remembered, but his face had stronger lines. He was still built like he could plow across a football field, but there was now a sophistication about him. She’d never imagined him in a suit, but damn, he wore it well.
One lunch.
That’s it.
We’ll talk about the past, have a few laughs, and leave with a sense of closure.
Yes, that’s why I’m going. I need . . .
Images of the two of them, pulling off each other’s clothing with lustful frenzy, temporarily overwhelmed her. She was there again, arching her naked breasts against his bare, muscular chest. His hands were cupping her ass, lifting her off her feet. She was once again wrapping herself around him, welcoming his cock, begging him to go deeper, harder. The memory shifted, and she was clutching the back of the couch in his garage while he rammed into her from behind. Her body clenched at the hot memory. Yes, they’d had problems, but sex was never one of them. Being with him had always been sinfully, blissfully easy.
Closure.
She shook her head and took a deep breath, glad she was alone.
The next morning could not go by fast enough. Normally Spencer lost track of the time while working on a project, but his eyes kept returning to the clock. He swore when he realized only fifteen minutes had passed since the last time he’d checked the time.
The door of his office flew open and his older sister, Rachelle, strode in, followed by an apologetic Lisa. “I’m sorry, Mr. Westerly. I told her you were busy.”
Spencer stood and stretched. He wasn’t getting much done, anyway. “It’s fine, Lisa. Hold my calls.”
“Yes, Mr. Westerly.” Lisa closed the door as she left.
With her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and dressed in jeans and a flowered blouse, his sister sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. She and Nicolette had a lot in common, although he doubted either would admit it. Nicolette considered herself the angsty rebel of the family. Rachelle saw herself as a second mother to her younger siblings. The three of them had once been close, but lately their visits were a harbinger of a headache. “What’s up, Rach?” Wait for it. Wait for it.
“You have to tell Nicolette that she can’t take money from Dad. Mom is beside herself.”
Spencer moved to the front of his desk and sat back against it. And they wonder why I don’t take their calls. “Hello, Rachelle. It’s nice to see you. Hello, Spencer, it’s great to see you, too.”
Rachelle sighed impatiently. “Could you be serious for one minute? Everyone is really upset. You shouldn’t have gotten involved. You know how Mom feels about Dad’s money.”
“Whoa,” Spencer said as he raised one hand out in front of him. “First, Nicolette asked me for my opinion, and I gave it to her. Second, money is not evil—people are. If Nicolette wants to take her father’s guilt money and do something good with it, you and Mom are the ones who should back the fuck off.”
Rachelle’s mouth rounded in surprise. “Did you just swear at me? Are you okay, Spencer?”
After twelve months of telling himself and everyone else that he was fine, he snapped. “No, I’m not okay. I’m pissed. Every fucking day. But do you know what I’m not doing? I’m not going to visit you at work and ram how I feel down your throat. Nicolette came to me. If that upsets Mom, then she can get over it. She does not get to tell us how we should live our lives anymore. When I think of all the crap she spewed about how keeping our lives simple would make us into better people. Being poor didn’t do much for her character, did it? It sure as hell didn’t make her honest.”
Silence hung heavy in the room.
What he’d said had been a long time coming, but he regretted the way he’d said it. Rachelle had gone pale. Spencer stood and ran a hand through his hair. I need Dicks Anonymous. Hi. My name is Spencer Westerly. I’m a dick. Not a recovering one; still a dick. “Sorry, Rach. This is why I’m staying away from the family. You don’t need this. I don’t want this. I was actually in a good mood before you came.” His sister’s face crumpled. Fuck. Even when I’m trying to be nice, I’m an ass. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I meant that today was a good day before—”
Rachelle raised her hands in a plea for him to stop. “I get it.” She stood. “I shouldn’t have come.”
Shit.
He sank into the seat next to the one she’d vacated. “Don’t leave. That came out wrong. I should think before I speak.”
“Why start now?” she asked in a tone that made him question if there had been a day of his life when he hadn’t been an ass. Then she smiled. “I’m just as bad. Sorry. Everything sounded better in my head before I said it.”
“I understand that feeling.”
She grimaced and sat down next to him. “I wish we could go back to the way we were before.”
“It was a lie, Rach,” he said bluntly. “I don’t want to go back, but we do need to find a way to move forward.”
“How do we do that, Spence? How do we piece our family back together?”
He shrugged one shoulder. If he had the answer, he wouldn’t have kept it to himself. “I’ll try to be less of a miserable prick. It may improve nothing, but I’ll give it a shot.”
Rachelle smiled again. “You sound serious.”
“Sadly, I am.”
“What do you need me to do?” she asked quietly.
If ever there were a loaded question . . . He looked across at his sister’s earnest expression and laid his hand briefly over hers. “Keep being you. Keep calling. Keep driving me crazy. Someday when I have my shit back together, I’ll be grateful for it.”
She nodded and blinked a few times quickly. “Join me for lunch?”
The alarm on his phone went off, announcing it was time for him to head out to meet Hailey. He silenced it and stood. “I would, but I have a date.”
Rachelle rose to her feet. “A date? During the day? Do you know this one’s name?”
He escorted her to the door of his office. “Funny. Yes, I know her name. We used to go out.”
“That narrows it down to half the women in the Boston area. Who is she?”
They stopped in front of his secretary’s desk. “Lisa, I’m going out to lunch. I may be back today; I may not.”
“Yes, Mr. Westerly.”
Rachelle linked arms with Spencer as they walked out of the office. “Are you going to tell me or is it a secret?”
“It’s not a secret, but I’m not saying anything yet.”
Rachelle stopped. “Yet? This sounds promising.”
Spencer pressed the call button for the elevator. “It’s lunch with an old friend.” His mood lifted at the thought of seeing Hailey again.
“An old friend, my a
ss. I’ve seen that look on your face before. In college. What was her name?”
Spencer pressed the button again. “Do you expect me to remember all of their names?”
Rachelle rolled her eyes and scratched her head. “As if you looked up from your computer and noticed any of them. Hanna. No. Heather.” She snapped her fingers. “Hailey. She was the only one who ever put that goofy, smitten expression on your face.”
Spencer opened his mouth to deny that he was meeting Hailey, but he’d never lied to Rachelle. “Goofy? Thanks.”
“Am I right? Is it her?” They stepped into the elevator together. “Oh, Spencer, be careful. You hid out at my place with what you thought was the flu after you saw her with someone else. You thought you were dying. She broke your heart. We all felt so bad for you.”
Spencer groaned as he hit the button for the lobby. The door closed. “You’re remembering it worse than it was.”
Rachelle made a face, but otherwise didn’t dispute his claim. “How did you meet up with her again?”
“She came to see me.”
“Out of the blue?”
“Yes.”
Rachelle made a disapproving sound.
“Say it,” Spencer said impatiently.
Rachelle touched his arm. “Do you think it had anything to do with how you and WorkChat are in the news lately? Mom always said that money attracts people—the wrong kind of people.”
“Hailey’s not like that.” He honestly hadn’t considered that possibility. The Hailey he remembered hadn’t been materialistic. “And if I ever do need relationship advice, trust me, Mom would be the last person I’ll turn to.”
Rachelle sighed, and they rode the rest of the way down in silence. “So where are you taking her?”
“Mangiarelli’s Pizza.”
“Dressed like that? They’ll think you’re a government health inspector.”
“First, they know me. Second, I distinctly remember you lecturing me a few years ago about needing to shed my jeans and T-shirts to look more professional.” Proof that there was indeed no pleasing his family.
“Did I?” she asked with a self-conscious smile. “Nicolette says I mother-hen you.”