by Jo Leigh
He returned the smile of a tall willowy blonde, and resisted the urge to glance back as they passed each other. She didn’t look familiar, although he didn’t expect to recognize anyone. He’d lived in Temptation Bay for only a year while attending the public high school before he’d left for Princeton.
Man, it felt like a lifetime ago.
His thoughts circled back to Ginny Landry. He wondered if she would bother showing up. Or if she was even in the country. Easy to imagine her performing somewhere in Europe, playing before the king and queen of some country that still acknowledged royalty. She’d just turned eighteen when he last saw her. He remembered since they shared the same birthday, although he was two years older.
In retrospect, at twenty, he’d still been a kid. A kid with too much responsibility to shoulder and without a clue how to handle the curveball life had thrown him. But Ginny... With all her talent and natural-born grace, it hadn’t been hard for him to picture the brilliant future she’d had waiting for her.
The woman at the desk smiled as he approached. “Are you here for the reunion?” she asked, sizing him up. Her smile wavered briefly at his worn jeans. Definitely not designer. “This is the Roger Williams registration desk.”
“Just what I was looking for.” He gave her a smile that seemed to distract her from his attire. On the left side of the table name badges were displayed alphabetically. “Any chance I can see a list of the attendees?”
“Andrea Langston. Well, I swear...” A woman rushed up from behind him as the brunette—presumably Andrea—rose to greet her.
Parker glanced at the name badges but didn’t see Meg’s or Ginny’s name. Although that didn’t tell him anything useful.
The women exchanged silly air kisses, and he saw it was the tall blonde he’d passed a minute ago.
“Andrea, I almost didn’t recognize you,” the blonde said, then slid him a smile. “Hello.”
Parker smiled back.
Just as she extended her hand, someone else caught his eye. Another blonde he’d once known.
“Excuse me,” he said, surprised at the hitch in his breathing, and headed for Ginny Landry.
CHAPTER TWO
“HOW IS IT you haven’t aged a bit?” Harlow said after she and Ginny hugged. “Seriously. You still look like a college kid.”
“And you still don’t know your own strength.” Laughing, Ginny rubbed her arm. Harlow had once been a world-class athlete. “Can we keep the bruising down to a minimum?”
“I’ll try.” Harlow took her by the hand and dragged her toward a table she’d secured near the lobby bar. “This place is a zoo. I don’t want to lose our spot. Have you seen anyone else yet?”
“I just got here. You?”
“Nope. Not a soul.” Harlow flagged down a server. “That is, no one I care to talk to. But I haven’t been here long either. I went straight to the room, hung up my dress for tomorrow night and left everything else. I wanted to make sure I scored a table.”
Ginny grinned. “I’m glad you have your priorities in order.”
“You got that right.” Her smile was for the waitress. “A pitcher of margaritas, please.”
Nodding, the young woman started writing. “Anything else?”
“Wait.” Ginny frowned at her friend. “Who’s that pitcher for?”
“You and me, unless Cricket or Jade shows up.”
Ginny sighed. “You’re insane.” She turned to the server, who was setting cocktail napkins on the table. “Thank you.”
The woman smiled and left.
“So, are you staying in the hotel?” Harlow asked.
“Nope. I’m only ten minutes away.”
“Well, if you get too hammered, you can always bunk with me for the night.”
“I’m not getting hammered.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Ginny laughed. This felt so good. In just minutes, fifteen years had disappeared. It didn’t matter that they lived on opposite coasts, or that, despite their heartfelt graduation night promises, their communication had been sporadic at best. “You look wonderful, Harlow. I mean it.”
Harlow shrugged. “I’m blonder.”
“You know what I’m saying. I’m glad the accident didn’t make you bitter.”
“Oh, honey, you didn’t see me after I realized I’d blown my shot at the Olympics. And my parents? I thought they were going to jump off a cliff.”
She and Harlow had talked shortly after the surgery on her leg, and Ginny knew that her friend had sunk into a dark place. But she hadn’t stayed there. “Come on. You’re still in fantastic shape. So, good for you. Now, tell me how you like teaching.”
“Only if you tell me the real reason you dropped out of Juilliard. I can’t believe you’re still living here and not playing a fourteen-karat-gold piano on a yacht somewhere exotic.”
“What the—” Ginny burst out laughing. “You’re not allowed to have any booze. None,” she said and turned to see what Harlow was squinting at.
The late-afternoon sun filled the lobby with natural light, but from where she was sitting, the glare made it difficult to see.
“Isn’t that Cricket?” Harlow ducked her head when someone at the next table stood and blocked her view. “In line at the reception desk?”
Ginny finally spotted her. “I’m so glad she made it. She looks great, doesn’t she?”
“Like a big-shot lawyer. Oh, no...it’s Troy what’s-his-name behind her. He thinks we’re waving at him.” Harlow sank back in her chair, averting her face. “I hope he doesn’t do something stupid like stop by...”
“Isn’t he the guy who you—”
Harlow’s glare cut her off.
“Sorry.” Ginny hid a smile and turned back to tracking Cricket.
Ginny was anxious to see her, even though they’d connected twice when Cricket had come home to visit her dad, who still lived in a shack on the beach. Of the whole gang, Cricket probably knew her the best, but even though she and the rest of her friends knew about Tilda, they didn’t know the entire reason Ginny had left Julliard.
The server delivered the pitcher and glasses, and Harlow asked her to bring one more.
“Have you heard from Jade? Do you know what time she’s arriving?”
“Late, I think.” Harlow kept her head bowed as she poured. “Where’s Cricket? Getting close?”
“She has one person ahead of her.”
“Is Troy still looking over here?”
“Nope. He’s talking to someone.”
“Good.” Harlow slid the drink to her. “What about Meg? Have you heard from her?”
Ginny’s stomach lurched, even though she’d known the question would come up. “Not for a while. I seriously doubt she’ll be here.”
“I guess we could ask Andrea. She’s checking people in and passing out name badges.”
“Oh, Cricket is at the desk. I hope she doesn’t go straight to her room,” Ginny said, taking her first sip. The salty tartness woke up her taste buds. As for the alcohol, she’d have to watch herself. With the exception of an occasional glass of wine, she didn’t drink much at all.
“She won’t.” After a healthy sip of her margarita, Harlow sighed, then blinked at Ginny. “I can’t believe I forgot to ask... You have a daughter. She must be a teenager by now, right?”
“Oh, yes, she is.”
Harlow put out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “I know you have pictures.”
“You bet I do.” She queued her phone, then handed it over. “Millions of them, but you only have to look at the first hundred.”
Harlow’s grin turned wistful as she started the slide show. “You think you might have more kids?”
“I’d like to,” Ginny said slowly. She’d always wanted to have a family, a husband, at least two more kids. But the subject had the
potential to raise questions she didn’t want to answer. “What about you?”
“Well, I’ve been saying someday for so long I’m not sure where I stand. Oh, cute.” Harlow held up the picture of Tilda in her first Halloween costume. “Are you in contact with her father?”
Ginny held in a sigh. “Nope,” she said, hoping her tone would end the topic. Harlow returned to the slide show, and Ginny looked back to check on Cricket’s progress.
Her gaze landed on a man. Tall, dark hair, muscular arms. She could only see his profile, but he looked out of place in faded jeans and a black T-shirt. He wasn’t one of the golfers, although why she felt certain of that she couldn’t say. And he sure hadn’t been one of her classmates.
He stood near the reception desk, but he wasn’t waiting in line. If he was looking for someone, he didn’t seem to be overly invested in finding them. He glanced almost negligently over the crowd, then donned a pair of aviator sunglasses.
Ginny’s heart rate picked up speed.
He reminded her of someone, although she couldn’t place him. This guy had a swimmer’s build—broad shoulders, slim waist and hips. Probably rode a motorcycle, wrestled grizzly bears for fun and opened cans with his teeth.
“Earth to Ginny.”
She jerked a look at Harlow. “What?”
“What are you doing? Did you see someone or—” Harlow gasped. “Is it Troy? Is he coming over to us?”
“No.” The mystery man was most definitely not Troy. She sneaked a peek his way again, but he was gone. She looked right then left. He’d disappeared. “Oh, here comes Cricket.”
She and Harlow stood at the same time and met her partway.
“I should’ve known I’d find you guys near the booze,” Cricket said as she reached them. She raised her brows at Ginny. “Look at you in that sexy little sundress.”
Sexy? Ginny rolled her eyes. “I’m so glad you made it,” she said, pulling Cricket into a hug. “I couldn’t believe it when I got your email yesterday.”
“Ditto for me. Now, quit hogging her.” Harlow threw her arms around both of them.
After a few seconds, Cricket made an odd gurgling noise. “Okay, you have to let me breathe,” she said. “Seriously.”
Ginny laughed and backed off first. “We better grab our seats.”
After pouring Cricket a drink, Harlow said something Ginny didn’t catch. She tried to stay with the conversation, she really did. But she was hopelessly obsessed with finding the man in the jeans and black T-shirt. It was as if he’d disappeared into thin air.
Cricket was staring at her, and so was Harlow.
Ginny blinked. “What?”
The server saved her from further humiliation when she stopped to see if Cricket wanted something besides the margarita.
No sooner had the woman moved on than Cricket asked, “What’s going on with you? Everything okay?”
“Sure.” Ginny smiled. “Other than Harlow trying to get me drunk, everything’s fine.”
“You holding out on us, Gin?” With a mischievous little smile, Harlow swept a gaze across the lobby. “You see something you like?”
Ginny almost spit out her sip of margarita. This was the last thing she needed. It didn’t matter that Harlow was only teasing. “Oh, please,” she said and looked at Cricket. “How did you manage to get a room here at the last minute? I thought they were booked.”
“They had a suite left.”
Harlow snorted. “You must be making big bucks.”
“I’m doing okay,” Cricket said, shrugging. “Not that I’m thrilled about paying that much for a suite.”
“Hey, you were always the smartest person in the class, so good for you,” Harlow said, raising her glass. “You deserve your success.”
Ginny raised her glass as well, and while Harlow cajoled Cricket into participating, Ginny stole a look at the bar.
There he was, standing at the end of the sleekly polished mahogany bar, drinking a beer. It seemed he might be looking back at her, but she couldn’t tell for sure. Not when he was still wearing those darn sunglasses.
One thing for certain, he wasn’t lacking for attention. A woman sitting on a barstool next to him was about to make her move when a blonde squeezed in between them.
He stepped aside, giving her a tight smile, along with plenty of space.
Ginny didn’t know why that made her so happy.
Her elation evaporated the second she finally realized why the mystery man seemed familiar. If she had any sense at all, she’d be running in the other direction.
* * *
PARKER WATCHED HER from behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, wondering if she’d recognized him. It wasn’t so much the fifteen years that had passed. He simply wasn’t the same clean-cut, idealistic college student who’d wanted to fight for justice. To work in concert with his dad—his idol—and others like him, to rid the world of evil.
Good plan, until Parker had discovered it was all a load of crap.
She looked the same, had barely aged. Her dark blond hair was a few inches shorter and now skimmed her shoulders.
And that smile of hers. No woman had a better smile than Ginny Landry. Assuming that was still her last name. He didn’t see a ring on her finger, but that meant nothing these days. And with her level of talent, it was likely she was more focused on her career than a husband. Parker didn’t recognize either of the two women sitting with her. They could be friends of Meg’s as well, but he’d only met Ginny. Although it wasn’t until after his sister had disappeared that he’d gotten to know her.
“Excuse me.”
He turned to the blonde, who’d crowded him. She was the same woman he’d passed earlier, although he didn’t remember the excessive perfume that was beginning to make his eyes burn.
“I practically ran you over,” she said. “Let me at least buy you a drink.”
“No thanks.”
“Oh, come on.” She tilted her head, a seductive smile lifting her too-pink lips. “Just one?”
Parker shook his head. What was it with these prep school women? Curious to take a walk on the wild side? He tipped the beer bottle to his mouth, then went back to studying Ginny. She was looking right at him. Before he could give her a nod, she turned away.
He suppressed a smile, wondering if she’d covered up the faint sprinkling of freckles across her nose. She’d never bothered to before, even though he knew she hated them. It was kind of crazy how much he’d learned about her in those few days after Meg had gone missing. He remembered thinking how odd it was that the two had become friends. Talk about opposites.
Meg was always looking for action and, yeah, a fair amount of trouble...an obvious cry for attention, he’d realized much later. His sister had idolized their dad every bit as much as Parker had, misguided as that had proved to be. It had been his first real lesson about trust and its dangers. Hadn’t been his last.
Ginny had been like a beacon of light, trying to keep Meg from taking that final step into the darkness. In the end, it hadn’t worked. The thing about Ginny, she might look like the carefree girl next door, but she’d never had the perfect family life either. With no mother in the picture, Ginny had been raised by a nanny. Her workaholic father had been largely absent throughout her childhood. At least Parker and Meg had had their mom to rely on. She’d been there for them through a lot of rough patches. Fielding their endless questions, for which she either had no answers or wasn’t at liberty to divulge her knowledge.
Now, knowing what he did, Parker was confident his mother had been kept in the dark about her husband’s whereabouts, and what he’d been doing for most of their marriage. And to be fair, the secrecy had been for their own protection.
Dammit, Meg shouldn’t have punished her by running away. To some degree their mom had been a victim too. She wasn’t a stupid or naive person. Parker gu
essed that she’d fully understood the man she’d married, but no one could’ve predicted his other life would end up consuming him.
Parker set his empty bottle down, then dug out some money and laid it on the bar. By the time he looked back, Ginny was gone.
CHAPTER THREE
GINNY SLIPPED INTO the ladies’ room and splashed cold water on her face, trying to bring herself out of shock.
What was Parker doing here? Now—after all these years without a word, not knowing if he was dead or alive or living on the moon—he just shows up? She knew it must have to do with Meg. If the family had lost contact with her, just as Ginny had, Parker was probably hoping his sister would be at the reunion. Ginny knew his being here had nothing to do with her. And why that should hurt in the slightest was absurd. She wasn’t a starry-eyed kid anymore.
After Meg had gone missing, they’d found comfort in each other’s arms. That first time, Parker hadn’t even known Ginny was a virgin. He’d felt terrible, had come right out and told her that giving herself should have been something special...with someone she cared about and who cared for her.
Oh, how those words, spoken with heartfelt concern, had cut deep into her soul. Thankfully, she’d had the good sense not to admit that she’d fallen for him months before the night they’d made love. At eighteen, she’d known woefully little about the world beyond her narrow life, and even less about men.
Sadly, at thirty-two, she wasn’t much more enlightened. Being a young single mom who worked at home, Ginny had barely made it around the block. Tilda had kept her—
Tilda.
Ginny gripped the counter for support.
Parker couldn’t know about her. Even if he’d somehow stumbled onto Ginny’s Facebook page, he wouldn’t have seen anything incriminating. She’d been so careful about the meager information she’d posted over the years, including any pictures that would pinpoint Tilda’s age.
Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Ginny sighed. Luckily her mascara hadn’t smudged, but she looked pale. Before the girls started wondering if something was wrong, she reapplied some gloss, swept back her hair and left the restroom.