by Loree Lough
Maleah had lost track of the times she’d wondered how things were going for him in prison. Was he being abused? Or had he become an abuser? When they let him out, would he be the same gregarious, kindhearted Ian she’d fallen in love with? Or would life behind bars harden him?
In her weaker moments, she’d hoped he would return to her, healed and whole, so they could pick up where they left off. The immature, futile dream of a silly schoolgirl. But she’d grown up, chosen a career in the psychiatric field. Coupled with the dozens of articles she’d read about recidivism, Maleah came to the only conclusion she could: what she’d shared with Ian ended when that prison van drove away from the courthouse, and nothing could change that. She picked up her phone and scrolled to Eliot’s name.
“Hey sis,” he said on the first ring.
“Am I catching you at a bad time?”
“Nope. I’m on second shift today. What’s up?”
“It’s great that you brought the boys to see the Christmas trees. Did they enjoy it?”
“Seemed to. Even bought an ornament for Amber.”
“Which they could have shown me, if you’d bothered to stop by and say hi.”
“I, ah, promised to take them for ice cream. And you know how Amber gets if I bring them home late.”
“Yes, it’s a shame she isn’t a little more flexible. Maybe a civil conversation is all it would take to accomplish that.”
“Doubtful...”
“Speaking of civil conversations, I noticed you had one with Ian earlier that was anything but.”
“Big fat tattletale. I made it clear he wasn’t to bug you with it.”
“He didn’t. I saw you.”
Silence.
“Tell me, big brother, just how long were you planning that?”
“Since Sunday, when you showered us with the good news that he’d volunteered to work with you.”
“He didn’t volunteer to work with me. He volunteered to work for Kids First.”
“Oh, so you’re defending him now.”
“Our association is strictly business. And it’s going to stay that way.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Eliot, stop it. You need to see, once and for all, that I’m not the simpering little girl who cried herself to sleep for weeks after he left. I’m older and wiser now. A self-supporting, self-made woman who’s perfectly capable of running my own life. Save your concern for your impressionable boys, why don’t you?”
“You wouldn’t talk that way if you weren’t still in love with him.”
“Stop it,” she said again. “I have no feelings for him, whatever. He said himself, after I hammered at him to find out what you two talked about, that when Kids First is over, he’ll fade into the woodwork. His words, not mine.”
“And you believe that.”
“I have no reason not to. He’s been out of Lincoln for years, and hasn’t once tried to contact me.”
“Timing, as they say, is everything.”
“Please. He built a good life for himself. Why mess it all up by digging up the past now?”
“You know I don’t believe in coincidence.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“If you think for one lousy minute that he didn’t know you were in charge of this Kids First stuff, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“You’re wrong. Ian was more surprised than I when he realized we’d be working together.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Following a lengthy pause, Eliot said, “Hate to cut this short, but I have some chores to do before I head to the station.”
“Be safe out there. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
MALEAH THOUGHT IT would be easy, delegating tasks to other volunteers to avoid Ian, but she’d been wrong.
She hadn’t expected him to produce much in the way of publicity and marketing for the events, but she’d been wrong about that, too.
It meant talking to him nearly every day, if not to schedule TV, radio and print media interviews, then to arrange photo shoots. It shouldn’t have been a problem, since most of their conversations had been on the phone.
Wrong again. Because his efficiency roused grudging admiration. Maleah didn’t want to admire him—or anything about him. The reason was simple: if she allowed herself those positive reactions, how great a leap would it be to affection? At the end of that road lay nothing but a repeat of the heartache and disappointment that would come when he abandoned her again.
Once, while passing the conference room that served second duty as the volunteers’ office, she’d caught a glimpse of him on the phone, big booted feet propped on the radiator and a pencil behind one ear as he cited all the reasons a segment about Kids First would make a perfect news feature. Ian’s back had been to her, but she didn’t have to see his face to know that those long-lashed dark eyes were shining with wit and enthusiasm. The gray in his hair gleamed bright under the overhead fluorescent fixtures, and reflected from the white gold-and-onyx initial ring she’d bought for his eighteenth birthday. He wore it on his right pinky finger now. No surprise there, considering how much he’d bulked up in the years since she’d seen him last. The fact that he still wore it after all this time...
That was the image that popped into her head every time he called with an update, and it worried her more than she cared to admit, because the very sound of his voice took her back to those sweet, whispered conversations that lasted long into the night...
“Maleah?”
Startled, she turned toward the door.
“Stan. It isn’t like you to pop in unannounced, especially at this hour.”
“It’s after 9:00 a.m., kid. How long have you been here?”
Laughing, she said, “Since seven. A little before, actually. I get more work accomplished in the couple hours before the place starts jumping than I can the rest of the day. Too many distractions and interruptions. But I’m sure you know all about that.”
“A good secretary is what you need.” The laugh was as big as the man himself. “I just stopped by to tell you that your dedication is paying off. I’m hearing some good things. Seems I made a wise decision, partnering you with Ian.”
If he’d made the same statement a few weeks ago, Maleah would have disagreed, wholeheartedly. She didn’t ask who Stan had been talking to, because any minute now, he’d offer up the information on his own.
“Have a seat, Stan. You’re giving me a crick in my neck.”
“No, no, can’t stay. Have a meeting with the mayor in half an hour. Thought as long as I was in the neighborhood, I’d see if you need me to cut a check.”
“A check? For what?”
“Advertising. Decorations. Catering. That all takes money, remember.”
“Yes, I’m well aware.” She opened her laptop, pulled up the Kids First file and clicked on the Donations tab. Stan stood behind her, reading the screen as she said, “We’re doing well. Really well. Better than we have in years, in fact. I think that’s due in large part to all the publicity Ian generated...free publicity, I might add.”
Straightening, Stan rubbed his double chins. “Hmm... Is that grudging admiration I hear in your voice?”
“Not grudging at all. He’s doing a stellar job, promoting the events. Contributions are coming in from all over the state.”
“You don’t mind working with him, then?”
“Why would I?”
“Well, with your history...”
“History?”
“He told me everything. And if I know Ian, he exaggerated on the ‘what I’m guilty of’ side, not the other way around. I’m well aware that he put you
through your paces. So a little...a little bitterness would be perfectly understandable.”
“We’ve established a comfortable working relationship.”
“You’re sure?”
His words said one thing, his expression something else, and yet again, Ian had put her in the position of convincing someone that their relationship was strictly business.
“Yes, Stan, I’m sure.”
Shaking his head, he made his way to the door. “If you say so.” Turning, he aimed a stubby finger at her. “Just promise me that if anything develops, you won’t let it interfere with the work. There’s a lot riding on these events, don’t forget.”
“Have a good day, Stan. And don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
“You might want to revisit the ‘who’s the boss’ subject.”
“What? Why?”
Stan stepped into the hall. “Because that’s exactly what Ian said.”
She waited until the elevator dinged, signaling Stan’s final departure, to grab her cell phone. After scrolling to his number, she hesitated to press Call. To date, Ian had initiated every call, and without exception, had been prepared, always efficient. She wanted to project the same professionalism, even while arranging an in-person meeting to find out how Stan got the impression Ian saw himself as the boss.
It occurred to Maleah that she didn’t need an explanation to set up a get-together.
“Maleah. I was just about to call you. What does your afternoon look like?”
“Wide open. Why?”
“CBN wants to send a team to film you, talking about Washburne, Kids First, what it’s like, leading your volunteers... Don’t worry, I’ve checked with the administrator. He says he trusts you to do ’em all proud.”
As usual, he’d considered all the alternatives.
“So you’re okay for today, around three o’clock? I could push this off until tomorrow if that works better for you.”
“No, today is fine. I hate doing these things, but I might as well get it out of the way.”
“Are you kidding? You’re a natural.”
She didn’t say more, for fear of sounding like a compliment-me-seeker.
“Are you planning to be here? When the news crew arrives, I mean?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Good. After they wrap up, I’d like to talk with you for a few minutes.”
“Sure, sure. It’ll probably be late. Why don’t you meet me at the bistro afterward. I’ll buy you dinner.”
Maleah had hoped for a quiet place, her own turf, for when it came time to say “Let’s get this clear: I’m the boss.”
“We’ll eat in my office. More privacy in there.”
Considering her indecision, his take-charge attitude should have come as a relief.
It did not.
And yet she said, “All right. See you after the interview, then.”
“Oh, you’ll see me sooner than that,” he said, stepping into her temporary office. The breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, smiling and bright-eyed in snug jeans and black boots. The hint of tattoos peeked from the cuffs of his crisp white shirt.
“I was on TV Hill, finalizing tomorrow’s interviews, and since I was so close, I thought I’d stop by, see if you needed me to do anything.”
Close? At least six miles separated the station from the facility...
He placed a takeout cup of coffee on the edge of the table.
“Still drink it easy on the sugar, easy on the cream?”
Maleah had already exceeded her coffee quota for the day. “Yes. Thanks.”
“Would’ve brought a bagel or something, except I know you’re not big on breakfast. At least, you didn’t used to be.”
She still wasn’t, and yet thoughts of a toasted bagel smothered with cream cheese made her stomach growl. She hoped he hadn’t heard it.
“I saw Stan in the parking lot,” Ian said, settling onto the chair across from hers. “What did he want?”
“He stopped by to compliment us on a job well done.” Since the subject opened itself, she saw no point in putting off the “boss” discussion. “And ask some pointed questions about who’s holding the reins.”
“You’re in charge. But I thought he knew that.”
“Evidently, when you were bringing him up to speed on all you’re doing to publicize Kids First, he got the impression I’d handed control over to you.”
“Whoa.” He held up his right hand. “Don’t know what he thinks he heard, but I didn’t say anything like that.”
Well, Ian certainly looked sincere...
“Truth is, I have more than enough to keep me busy. Between running the bistro and SAR training sessions and keeping my dad in line, believe me, I have no desire to wrestle control away from you. Besides, you’re doing a bang-up job. Only a fool would try and get in your way.”
Maleah wanted to believe him, but years of suspicion and resentment got in the way.
A knock on the door interrupted them.
“Mr. Ian?”
“Avery!” Smiling, he crouched and held out his arms. “What’re you doing here, kiddo?”
One arm slung around Ian’s shoulders, the boy perched on Ian’s knee.
“Mom is making signs. I came to help.”
“Is that so?”
Hands flapping and head bobbing, Avery showed every tooth in his head.
“When they’re finished, I get to hang them. And I get to use one of those big staplers, all by myself!”
His mother appeared in the doorway.
“There you are.” She faked a stern expression. “You’re supposed to tell me when you’re going off somewhere without me,” Terri said, speaking and signing at the same time.
“I did tell you,” her son signed back. He lowered his voice and, leaning closer to Ian, said, “Is it my fault if she was looking the other way?”
Ian touched a finger to the boy’s nose. “Now, you know better than that, don’t you...”
Avery rolled his eyes and hopped down from Ian’s leg. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”
Maleah had never seen Ian interact with a child before, let alone one with special needs.
She had to admit, it was an impressive sight.
He looked at Terri. “I know it’s your day off, but are you two coming to the bistro tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Ian faced Maleah. “Have you met Maleah Turner? She’s in charge of the Kids First fund-raiser.”
“Yes, of course,” she said, extending a hand. “Good to see you again, Ms. Turner.”
“Please. Call me Maleah.”
“I’m sure you’re busy.” Terri looked at her boy. “Has Avery been bothering you?”
“No, not at all. Did you get your ticket to the big gala yet?”
Terri’s smile waned slightly. “Not yet.”
“You’re a volunteer, so your ticket is free.”
“Thank you, anyway, but...” She grasped her son’s hand. “Time to go, sweetie. We have lots of signs to hang!” Terri met Ian’s eyes. “See you tonight.”
“You bet.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “Have fun, but be careful with that big stapler, y’hear?”
Excitement and anticipation intensified the boy’s hand movements.
“I will!” he said, hugging Ian’s knees.
When they were out of earshot, Ian said, “That’s some kid right there.” The look on his face echoed the fondness in his voice.
First chance she got, Maleah would look into the boy’s file. Several times, Maleah had seen him in the halls at Washburne’s school; he’d entered the program before she accepted her first position with the facility, and so far, hadn’t had an opportunity to meet one-on-one with him an
d his mother. A casual conference would help her better understand Avery’s progress, and perhaps suggest additional ways to improve his treatment.
“Sometimes, I don’t know how Terri does it.”
Ian returned to the chair facing Maleah’s. “Divorced her abusive husband a couple years back. Her cousin was a part-time waitress, and Terri took a few of her shifts at the bistro. When I noticed that some diners were having trouble communicating with her, I put her at the hostess station. She mans that post like a sentry!”
Ian’s expression underscored his admiration for Avery’s mother. Had the relationship evolved into something more than boss and employee?
“Just between you and me,” he said, “Avery is my favorite.”
“Favorite what?”
“Favorite Washburne kid. We’ve worked together for a couple years now. Saturdays here and there, the occasional camping trip...”
Maleah had seen several such outings on the calendar. Volunteers nearly outnumbered kids, so she hadn’t felt it necessary to sign up. How many times, she wondered, would she have found Ian’s name on the lists?
“Well, I’d better get out of your hair.” Ian stood and made his way to the door, pausing to add, “Will we see you at the bistro tonight?”
They’d already solved the “who’s the boss” problem, so there didn’t seem much point in it.
“You didn’t see the notice I posted near the storeroom?”
She hadn’t, and said so.
“It’s a get-together for the volunteers, but since you’re in charge of them, I’m sure they’d enjoy seeing you there, too. Nothing fancy...fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans...ice cream bar for dessert. The kids love making their own sundaes.”