“Two Coronas,” he ordered.
The bartender nodded. “Coming right up.”
“It can be tough,” Clay said, drawing her back to him. “But I have family back home. They help out a lot.”
“Sure, but they can only do so much.” Unless they lived together. She sharpened her gaze on the blond stranger. Did Clay and his son live with his parents?
“That’s true,” he agreed. “But for me, it always comes back to how hard it must be on him. Everything requires more effort for Q than most.”
“I can imagine.”
“It’s not that hard,” he remarked.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, the tips of her ears flushing hot. “I only meant that it must be hard to deal with, you know, with his special needs and all...” Sydney hated that she stumbled, but she had no sense of how to respond. This was not her department! Kids were not her department!
“It’s okay,” he replied quietly. “Unless you’ve rolled out from my side of the bed you can’t possibly know.” He brandished a smile.
“I guess,” she stammered. Sydney slid her drink closer. Was he flirting with her?
Clay assumed a playful tone and said, “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
She smiled, uncomfortable but enjoying him at the same time. “No problem...”
“Your smile is nice.”
The abrupt switch tripped her pulse. “Thank you,” she replied, then dodged his gaze again. She encircled the stem of her martini glass with her hands and stared at the orange liquid. But rather than do the same, she could feel Clay staring at her.
“That shade of blue is pretty on you.”
“Thank you again...” she said, stressing in her tone that they weren’t talking about her, but his son. Struck by his ease with compliments, she turned to him. Growing up, no one ever told her she was pretty. Not her mother, not her father. They told her she was good at sports. As an adult, the compliments came to her but she chalked them up to one thing: men wanted sex. Men would say most anything to get sex.
Allowing his gaze to linger, Clay shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say—life with Q is complicated. Even at twelve, he requires a lot of attention. While I love him to death, it can be hard on me. He’s made a lot of progress, but we still have frustrating days.”
Frustrating? Sydney couldn’t imagine what his average day must be like when things were going well let alone on a bad day. She envisioned it would require constant care—every minute, every hour. Could the boy ever be alone? Could he feed himself? Bathe himself? Sure he wasn’t here with him now, but only because his grandparents were caring for him. It must require his time 24/7 to care for his boy.
But with no personal experience, she felt at a loss for something intelligent to say. It seemed like a sensitive subject to her and she didn’t want to say anything stupid or hurtful—though she found herself intrigued by the situation. “How could a mother leave her child?” she asked, before common decency had a chance to intervene.
“Q wasn’t what she expected and she couldn’t handle it.”
“I’m sorry—” Her pulse thumped against her ribcage. “That was rude of me. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You didn’t. I offered the information.”
But seriously, she calmed the pound of her heart with a deep breath, she couldn’t comprehend the mother leaving just because her child had autism. Fathers left, sure. But mothers? Sydney wanted to say something meaningful to demonstrate that she understood, but she didn’t. Instead, she chose to sip from her martini. If Clay wanted to continue, he could—but she wasn’t about to push. Aware he was watching her, she mis-sipped causing the alcohol to tingle across her lips.
“That good, huh?”
“What?” she asked, the tangy mango still wet and heavy on her lips.
He shook his head and emitted a half-chuckle. “Nothing.” But his smile suggested otherwise as his gaze idled on her mouth.
Sydney rolled her lips together and avoided his eyes—hot eyes, blazing eyes—eyes that were taking her in even now as she tried to evade them.
“We were young,” he continued, as though nothing passed between them—but something had—Sydney was sure of it! “She worked the beauty pageant circuit and didn’t know much else. She had big expectations from life, from marriage... From everything, really.” He shrugged again. “They didn’t pan out for her.”
The sentiment was stated so plain and casual, Sydney couldn’t be sure if he was sad, mad, glad, or indifferent. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. Weak, but it was all she had. Parents left. It happened. Life wasn’t always fair. Ask her, she could tell you. Though leaving a child with special needs seemed a heck of a lot harsher than leaving a perfectly normal teenage girl.
“It’s past tense,” he said. “But when she left I realized I had to buckle down. My son needed me and there were no other options. I was it. I wasn’t going to abandon my son. Whatever happened, whatever the future was going to bring, he would always have me.” Clay took a swallow from his drink and tossed Sydney a smile. “It’s pretty much been smooth sailing ever since.”
“I doubt that,” she said.
But Clay shook his head. “With the right attitude, it’s true. Once we set our mind to something, we can do anything. At least I can.” He winked. “Which means I’d be careful, if I were you.”
Sydney’s heart caught. “Why?”
He walked his fingers across her wrist then pointed at her. “Cause I’ve got my eye on you.”
Sydney felt a hot rise to her cheeks at the startling shock of intimacy. Cloaked in casual touch, it sent a rampant heat across her breasts. While she enjoyed the attention, she wasn’t sure how she felt about him. She’d never dated a man with a child, let alone a special needs child.
And date? Who even said anything about dating? She raised her glass for another sip, the mango losing the crisp edge of its chill. They were just chatting. Sam ditched her and she was finishing her drink, nothing more and nothing less. Okay. Her second drink. The man was flirtatious. It didn’t mean anything.
“But in all seriousness,” he changed subjects easily. “I will tell you that it’s my ex-wife’s loss.”
The statement gave her pause. Was that conceit talking? She slowly turned back to him.
“I’ve learned more from my son than anywhere else. Q has taught me how to be patient. He’s taught me to be grateful for the things I have and has shown me what’s truly valuable in this world.”
The statement tugged at her heart and Sydney felt every bit as captive in his gaze as if he had pulled her into his arms and closed tight.
“Life’s pretty simple when you have a handle on the important stuff.”
“I guess...” Sydney murmured. Depends on what you’re looking for, if you asked her.
“Do you have anyone special in your life?”
She shrank from the pointed question and her initial instinct was to tell him it was none of his business. But after what he’d shared, Sydney decided there was no harm and confessed, “Not really. Not anymore.” Uncertain as to why she added the last part, she wondered if Javier ever really meant anything to her. She’d believed he did at the time, but since? She peered at Clay and considered his situation. While she and Javier may have felt madly in love, almost intoxicatingly so, she didn’t think it rose to the level of what this man was talking about.
Clay clued in to her silence. “Makes a difference.”
Sydney mulled over the assertion. Yes, it does. Unfortunately, not always a positive one.
Chapter Five
Sydney balled up the pink message paper and threw it at her computer screen. She didn’t want to call the Mayor’s office. She didn’t want to speak at opening ceremonies. She shouldn’t have to, either. Maybe a last ditch plea to Javier would work. She’d force some sense into that dense skull of his and convince him it was a mistake.
Her phone rang and she snatched it from its cradle. “Sydney Flores,” she fired into
the receiver.
“Hey, Sydney.”
She clenched the phone and replied, “Hi, Dad. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you had those tickets for me for the golf tournament.”
“Sorry, but I’m not working the event.”
“But you can still get your old man some tickets, right?” he asked, unconcerned with what it would require on her part. He only cared that he wanted them.
“I can try.”
“Great. I’ll need four. Can you drop them by the house this afternoon?”
Sydney ground her jaw and said, “I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t make any promises.” Getting tickets would mean asking Morgan—which she would not do—or Javier, who in turn would tell her to see Morgan about them. “I’m kinda busy right now,” she said. “Can I call you later?”
“Sure. Just let me know when they’re ready.”
“Bye,” she clipped and hung up the phone, agitation stirring in her gut. No how are you, or what’s up? The man only called when he wanted something from her.
“Hey, Syd.”
She whirled around. “What are you doing here?” she snapped, bothered by the leap in heart rate almost as much as she was disturbed by the sight of him.
Charlie strolled into her office, his posture cocky and comfortable. Hair moussed into the current trend, blue eyes drenched in conceit, the man acted welcome within her midst. Which he was not. Smacking gum between his teeth, he announced, “Clay wanted to see if you were interested in having lunch with us.”
Sure enough, Clay walked in behind him and Sydney’s blood pumped between her ears. Dressed in jeans and faded red Polo, collar lifted ever so slightly, blond hair layered in a windblown sort of way, he looked good. Casual, sporty, fun...sexy.
“Well?” Charlie persisted. “What’s it gonna be?”
“Can’t,” she returned, avoiding Clay’s hot gaze. She liked fun and sexy, but she was busy right now. Especially for the likes of Charlie. “I’m on my way to see Javier.” She grabbed the notebook from her desk and stood.
“Don’t bother,” Charlie said. “Just passed him and Morgan on their way out.”
“Out?” She dropped book and hand to her desk. Both landed with a thud. “To where?”
“Didn’t ask.” His gaze touched upon her discarded notebook and she swore she saw satisfaction creep into his eyes. “So anyway, how about it?”
“How about what?” she asked, annoyed by Charlie’s presence in her office and the fact that Javier just left with Morgan to God knows where and for how long. Now how was she going to get out of this speaking mess?
“Lunch,” Clay said gently, tugging her back to the question at hand. “We’d like you to join us for lunch. If it’s not too much trouble that is...” he pulled out with a drawl.
“Lunch,” she murmured, drawn in by the soft insistence in his voice, the mellow undertow in his eyes. After their evening together, it was an alluring prospect to be sure. She liked this Clay fellow, she enjoyed his company. Sydney glanced at her coworker. But did it have to include him?
Charlie’s smile dripped with victory. “C’mon, Syd. Humor us with your presence, will you?”
Charlie was no stranger to her feelings for him. She didn’t like him and he knew it. But as with most jerks, the feelings of others didn’t come into play.
“I’d really enjoy the pleasure of your company,” Clay pitched in.
The pleasure of her company? Was Clay some kind of throwback from a classical movie?
He smiled. “If only for an hour.”
An hour. She expelled a sigh. Why not? She thrust her gaze around the office. Bouncing from the mural-sized dry erase calendar board on her wall to the stacks of paper piling up on her desk she decided, nothing pressing for her here. Until she caught sight of the crumpled square of pink paper, the one that had landed on her chair. It screeched otherwise. She turned back to Clay. “Can you give me a minute? I have a phone call to make.”
“No problem,” he replied, noticeably pleased.
“How about we head over to Bayside?” Charlie suggested.
“I’m not eating wings” she said, knowing why he wanted to go to Bayside. Granted it was close, but his favorite lunch spot was a wing place Sydney referred to as “wings and legs.” The only reason he ate there was so he could gawk at the waitresses in their short shorts and tight tops.
“You’re no fun, Sydney.”
She scowled.
Clay raised the white flag and offered, “How about we wait for you in the lobby?”
Amazed by the stark differences in their style, one blond, the other brunette, one cocky the other kind of sweet, she wondered again how the two were friends. But with no energy to pursue the thought, she replied, “Sure.”
She made her phone call, happy that Stan was unavailable to speak with her. Easier to leave a message than explain matters—matters she had to sort through with Javier first. Let him make the excuses for her no-show at opening ceremonies. It was his fault to begin with she mused, and hurried down the hall.
From the top of the stairs, she spotted Clay. Alone in the atrium lobby, he stood waiting at the bottom of the staircase. He looked up and watched her as she made her way down which made her feel as if she were on parade. Hurrying, she took the last step and calmed the sudden jitter of nerves. “Where’s Charlie?” she asked, secretly hoping he’d miraculously cancelled for lunch.
“Went to get the car,” Clay said. “Hungry?”
Sydney’s stomach rumbled at the word. “Starving, actually.”
He grinned. “Me, too.”
Through the glass wall, she spotted Charlie spin his black Lexus around the circular drive to the building entrance. Following her gaze, Clay turned and held out an elbow. “May I?”
Sydney smiled at his show of gallantry. “Why not?” After working with Charlie, it was nice to finally meet a man with some decent manners. She slipped her arm through his and walked the span of the bright and airy lobby, oddly delighted by the connection of their bodies. Like the streams of sunlight pouring in, his arm was warm, and he was none too shy about holding her close.
In heels, she was a good inch taller than him but Clay didn’t seem to mind. Just looked over at her and smiled. “Don’t worry. Charlie will behave during lunch.”
She raised a brow in his direction. “That’s a hefty promise to be making.”
“Trust me. I’ve got it covered,” he said, and pushed open the heavy glass door, holding it open as they passed through together. Like a couple. Then he opened the front passenger door and winked. “Let me know if he bites.”
She laughed, pleased he finally understood what she had to deal with when it came to his friend. “I will.” She lowered into the car while Clay slid into the backseat.
Charlie punched the accelerator and the vehicle responded with a taut lurch forward. “So what did you want to talk to Javier about?”
She slashed him with a sideways glance. “Work stuff.” And none of your business.
“That Morgan really made some waves with those golfers, didn’t she? Event’s not even over and I heard they want Javier to ship her to Palm Springs for their next one.”
Steeling her expression, she turned to look at Charlie. Black hair combed into neat layers, well-defined sideburns and clean-shaven jaw, she hated him. Hated him with a passion. “I’m not particularly concerned with how Morgan is doing.”
“How’s the fishing around here?” Clay interjected. “Anything in season?”
“The fishing is wonderful,” Sydney replied over her shoulder. Turning in her seat to face him more fully, she continued, “You just missed the bull dolphin migration, but there are still huge schools of fish that move through our waters all summer long.”
“A woman who knows fishing?” He glanced between her and Charlie. “She just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t she?”
“Leave it to Syd,” Charlie agreed dully and drove the short distance to the restaura
nt. Surprisingly, he seemed content with his exclusion as she and Clay bantered back and forth. She assumed it was because his friend was here and he was trying to be polite. She was wrong.
Charlie zipped into a tight parking space, jumped out of the car and quickly closed his door. Sydney and Clay followed suit and he pressed a button on his key fob to lock the doors. “Okay kids, I’ll meet you back here in an hour.”
“What?” Sydney gaped at him over the car. She touched her gaze upon Clay, but sprang back to Charlie. “You’re not eating with us?”
“No.” His grin was coated in snake oil. “I think you two have enough to talk about without me. I’ll grab a quick bite and meet you back here, say one o’clock?” Brows raised, he glanced between the two of them, as though confirmation were a trivial detail.
Clay looked to her and grinned. “It’s okay with me if it’s okay with you.”
Sydney smoked Charlie with a look of pure contempt. This was a setup. But before she could reply, her belly audibly growled.
Clay dropped his gaze to her stomach and smiled. “You need to eat.”
That she did, but staring between the two of them, she didn’t like the idea of being tricked into a lunch date. While she found Clay attractive, she wasn’t sure she wanted to have lunch alone with him and she especially did not like slimy dealings by Charlie. But they were here and Clay was right. She did need to eat. “A quick bite.”
“Perfect. Catch you later!” Charlie trotted off and scaled the first flight of stairs he could find. Of course he did. The wing place was located on the second floor.
“If it means anything,” Clay said softly, reaching a hand to within inches of her. “I didn’t know Charlie was going to pull a fast one on us.”
She eyed him warily, not entirely sure she believed him. “Leave it to Charlie” she remarked with a tinge of reticence, “stuntman-extraordinaire.”
“Should I call you a cab?”
Sydney hesitated, as if deliberating his question. Where it was the last thing he wanted to do, Clay would do it in a heartbeat. Forcing a woman to dine with him was not cool. Particularly a good-looking woman he was trying to cozy up to.
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