Torque hoped she kept the uncomfortable news that she heard voices to herself. It wasn’t something that would go over well in society.
“What do you think, son?”
“’Bout what?” Torque said after he swallowed a mouthful of vegetable soup. The kind that wasn’t from a can.
“About renting the garage. I can even give you Tyke’s customer list. You could reopen his business.”
Torque had fallen in love with the garage at first sight, as soon as he crested the little rise in the drive. But it had seemed, and still did, too good to be true.
“What are your terms?”
She named a monthly figure. It seemed high but reasonably so. “And...” She bit her lip and seemed uncertain for the first time. “My daughters said that I should get first and last month’s rent upfront, and proof of insurance.”
He figured it’d be something like that. The two bucks that he had in his pocket wouldn’t even pay for the call to the insurance company, even if he did have money to pay the down payment on a new policy.
He concentrated on the poker face that he’d perfected in prison while he tried to think of a way to come up with the money.
“I could tell you liked the garage.”
“I loved it. It’s going to make a great business location for someone.”
“You.”
“I’ll have to think about it,” Torque hedged, even though he would have to decline her offer, unless the dollar bills in his pocket had been busy having babies all day. Very busy.
The old lady gave him a straight look that reminded him of his gram. “I can’t give it to you. My daughters didn’t even really like the idea of me offering it to you. They want me to sell.”
“I wouldn’t let you give it to me.”
“I want you to have it.”
“I want it.”
“Then I’ll get the contract drawn up.”
“I’ll think about it.” He couldn’t bring himself to say no outright. For some reason, he couldn’t tell her, despite the extreme generosity of her offer, he couldn’t even afford that much.
“Take a week,” she finally said. “Use it for a week. See if you think it’s going to work out. If you want it, you can pay me the money next week this time.”
The offer was too generous, and Torque should be using the week to look for a job, but it didn’t appear Mrs. Ford was going to take no for an answer, so he nodded.
CASSIDY PULLED INTO the back lot of the library, only ten minutes late for the sponsor’s meeting. Which, in her opinion, was a small miracle, considering the first five minutes of her adoption meeting were the best five minutes. She’d read some of Anne’s notes over her shoulder—“smells like a garbage dump,” “children cry incessantly,” and “mother seems constantly overwhelmed.” All true statements, and they made her feel lower than a night crawler.
She had three minutes from the time Anne left to the time Kelly walked in, and she’d used them to sit on the couch and cuddle all three of her children. There was no way Anne was going to recommend that the adoption agency allow Cassidy to keep the twins let alone give Cassidy a green light to adopt the twins. She felt like she’d let the kids down. Nissa and Nessa and, most of all, Jamal, just because she hadn’t been able to pull it all together and make a good impression.
Anne hadn’t even asked about her so-called serious boyfriend.
Thankfully, she’d been able to text Kelly in time, and Kelly had brought cans of SpaghettiOs for the kids for supper.
Taking a deep breath, she set what was left of the chicken salad that Torque had bought yesterday aside. She’d been eating it with her fingers as she drove across town, and all that was left was a few pieces of lettuce. She grabbed a folder from the front seat. It basically had nothing but blank paper in it, since all her papers had been in her briefcase and were ruined. Her briefcase smelled like a dumpster in July, and it was the only one she had.
A little spike of anticipation shot through her. Torque would be here. She tried to push it aside, but it just grew. Maybe he hated her, but there was no way she could return the feeling. Even before he took her punishment, she’d never been able to find anyone who compared to him. Not at her prestigious private school. Not at college. Not at law school.
Shoving the folder under her arm, she rolled her sleeves back down and buttoned the cuffs, hurrying to the back door of the library conference room.
Seven people and the coordinator were already seated around the large, glossy wood conference table. She recognized two ex-cons as people she’d defended, and several of the business people were familiar as well, but her eyes were drawn, like a compass needle to true north, to Torque. He sprawled in his seat. Even next to the other parolees, his broad shoulders stood out. His ball cap sat on the table in front of him. His eyes tracked her progress around the room to the seat beside him.
“Miss Kimball. You just missed the introductions.” Frank Bigelough was the coordinator for the pilot project. There was plenty of irritation and a slight hint of accusation in his tone.
She schooled her features, hiding the ping of another failure in her chest.
“I’m sorry,” Cassidy said in her most professional tone as she pulled out her chair. “I had a meeting that ran over.” She gave her professional smile and sat, glancing at Torque as she did so.
“You eat?” he asked in a low tone that flowed under Frank’s monologue coming from the head of the table.
She nodded. “The chicken salad you brought. Thanks.”
He jerked his head. They both turned back to Frank, who stood at the head of the table and outlined the guidelines for the voluntary program.
“This is a professional relationship between you and your mentor. Their job is to guide you, give you real life advice and support, be a reference for you as you apply for jobs, and in some cases, they or their employers have agreed to hire you and they’ll be your coworkers and supervisors. Basically, they’re here to ease your integration back into society.”
Frank paced with his hands behind his back. “Those are the mentors’ responsibilities. The parolees’ responsibilities are just as important. These mentors have agreed to put their reputations on the line for you. They’ve agreed to give of their time and expertise to help you. Your job is to respect that and make sure that you do your best to live up to the expectations placed on you. The success of our program, and its entire future, depends on you. If word gets out that you are taking advantage of your mentors, or anything of that nature, then you will be sabotaging any other parolee’s opportunity to participate in this program.”
He stopped and faced the table. “Is that clear to everyone?”
People nodded and murmured “yes.”
“Good.” He resumed pacing. “You will have a rap sheet for the rest of your life. But this program is designed to take some of the sting out of that. We’re hoping that it will develop the reputation of producing well-adjusted, law-abiding citizens. Potential employers will see this on your resume, and it will negate your ex-con status. Participants have been carefully chosen for your ability to do well in the program and because of a judge’s, an attorney’s, or a mentor’s recommendation. I have high expectations for everyone.”
“Now, we’ll start here on my right hand and go around the table. Each pair can tell the group about your first session together and your plans for this next year of mentorship, and I think it would also be beneficial if each mentor talked about the positive qualities in your matched parolee that led you to volunteer to be their mentor.”
Cassidy swallowed as the first pair began speaking. She should have been more prepared. Not only did she now feel like a failure as a mother and, after today’s disastrous performance in court, as a public defender, but she was letting Torque down too. Maybe her parents and her classmates in high school had been right. She was just a pretty face. Good for homecoming queen, good for modeling. And, yeah, she got her law degree and passed the bar, but when it came right down to
it, she couldn’t actually handle a real life. She could only look good in front of the camera.
TORQUE WASN’T ACQUAINTED with anyone in the room. A couple of people he knew by name, but his attention was on Cassidy. One side of her shirt was untucked, and her hair was lopsided. The circles under her eyes, which yesterday had been a faint print, were well-defined today. Exhaustion tightened her eyes and mouth. Always slender, her clothes seemed extra loose.
Yesterday, she’d mentioned a court hearing and underwear briefs. He’d guess that neither went well today.
He hadn’t wanted to show up to the meeting, but after hearing what Frank had said, he appreciated Cassidy’s work with getting him into this. It would be a backup for him if things with Angelina Ford and her husband’s shop didn’t work out. No job that he’d applied for had called him back, and he figured it must be the ex-con status on his application that made them shy away. If this program was designed to help with that, it could only be a good thing. It had already helped him. He hadn’t considered putting Cassidy down for a reference.
None of the pairs were taking a long time to talk, so maybe this meeting wouldn’t be as long and as boring as he’d feared. Actually, he wasn’t bored. There was no way he could sit beside Cassidy and be bored. All she had to do was enter the room and every cell in his body was on alert. It had always been like that. Now, with her beside him, close enough that he could uncross his ankles and bump her leg with his, or lean forward and brush her arm, it was impossible to focus on anything else.
He could hold her hand under the table. Except...he couldn’t. His heart dropped, and his lungs deflated. How could she have gotten married to someone else? And so soon? He’d tossed and turned over those questions all night.
But what had he expected? They weren’t a couple. Hadn’t ever been a couple. They’d spent some time together, taken a few rides, but he’d never asked her to be his steady girlfriend. Like she would have even considered it. He had nothing to offer her, and they were too young anyway.
He had no rights to her or with her.
Finally, as he had thought about it, he had to admit what really bothered him. He’d made a major sacrifice for her, and he’d expected her to be grateful. If not to wait for him, to at least give some nod to the fact that he served her time. Maybe to have made an extra effort to make something out of her life, to do good, to...he didn’t know.
But it was wrong on his part. He’d volunteered, and he’d given her no choice. He hadn’t asked for anything or done it because he expected payment. So, he needed to let it go. And he probably could. Except the husband thing really bothered him. How could he stand to be around Cassidy when he ached for her to be his, and yet he couldn’t touch her, protect her, help her? But had to stand by while another man neglected her and took advantage of her.
He didn’t want to be stuck with Cassidy at arm’s length, not for the next year, not for the next meeting. He couldn’t stand it. The attraction he felt for her was too strong, but to do anything but ignore it went against every moral belief he had. He couldn’t be that man. Not if he wanted to look himself in the mirror every morning.
The pair beside him finished talking, and it was their turn. He waited for Cassidy to start. She clasped her hands together on the table and looked around. Then she looked at her hands. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was somehow frail. “I chose Torque because I knew him before he went to prison. He is hardworking and honest, honorable and loyal. I felt the judge was unfairly harsh in his sentencing, and I wanted to do something to help him. He deserves it.”
Torque’s gut squeezed. His heart thumped slow and hard.
She looked around the room, everywhere but at him.
“I fought to be able to mentor a man, even though other leaders suggested it wasn’t a good idea to have male and female pairs. But I knew that Torque is moral and upright.”
She blew out a deep, shaky breath. Flashbacks of their nights together rolled through his head. He didn’t know if she knew how badly he’d wanted to do more than what they’d done.
“I bungled our first meeting when he was released. I bungled our second even worse.” Her knuckles whitened on the table in front of her. “I...I’m actually not sure I can be the mentor that Torque deserves. I think it might be wise to find someone else to take my place.”
“I’m not doing this without you.” The words came out low, without a thought from him. It was exactly the opposite of what he’d wanted five minutes ago, but after her short speech, it was the only thing he could say.
She finally looked at him, shaking her head, her blue eyes troubled and dejected. Her shoulders slumped. “I can’t.”
He straightened out of his slouch, planting his boots on the floor and leaning forward, toward her. “You’re the smartest person in this room, so much more than a pretty face attached to a body that looks great on camera.” He couldn’t stand to see her discouraged. It rubbed his heart raw. “Our first meeting wasn’t a disaster. I had a bad attitude, and I’m apologizing for it now. Our second meeting was actually quite informative for me.”
Her brows furrowed, and she looked at him suspiciously.
He held his hands up. “Not everyone can steer a shopping cart with a hip and a knee. I tried to do that after you left the store yesterday, and it’s harder than it looks.”
Titters drifted out around the table.
Cassidy’s lips twitched.
“If you quit, I quit too.” He folded his hands together to keep from reaching for her and stared her down.
She looked away first.
Frank cleared his throat. “That was, um, interesting.” He raised his brows and looked out over his glasses. “So are you two in or out?”
Cassidy swallowed, the white column of her neck moving. Torque looked away because he could suddenly almost feel his lips right there, along the graceful curve of her throat.
What in the world had he just done? He’d decided he couldn’t work with Cassidy, and like she’d read his mind, she’d quit, giving him the opportunity to have the benefits of the program without the impossible temptation of her presence, and he’d just destroyed the whole thing.
He lifted his brows.
She raised her chin. Her lips tilted.
“We’re in,” she said.
Chapter 7
The meeting ended soon after, and Torque waited while she picked up her folder and said a few words to Frank. He walked out beside her casually. She’d always loved walking beside him. He was one of the few people she knew that she had to look up to. He made her feel feminine, in a powerful way. He didn’t crowd her or grab her, but somehow, they felt evenly matched. Not even, but equal. Like they fit together.
She waited until they were near her car and away from the other pairs. “I’m sorry I quit on you so publicly.”
“I’m kinda used to it.”
She stopped, jerking her head around. “What?”
He held his hands up. “Kidding. You seem down.”
“I had a day from hell.”
“Hmm. Never had one of those.”
She eyed him. His face, as usual, gave nothing away.
“Okay. Maybe when the judge said I had ten years in the pen.” He lifted his lips, and she could hardly believe he was joking about it.
Placing her hands on her hips, she said, “That wasn’t fair. I could never figure out why he did that.”
“Gram seemed to think he had some kind of thing against our family. His sentence was harsh, but still within the guidelines.”
“How does it feel? Being out?” She wanted to connect with him, somehow. At least he was talking to her some.
His expression closed down, and he looked over her shoulder. She didn’t think he was going to answer. Then, he crossed his arms over his chest and said, “It’s a little scary, actually. After having someone take complete care of you for ten years, now, all of the sudden, it’s up to me if I eat or not. It’s harder than I thought.”
“You’d
rather be back in?” she asked incredulously.
He snorted. “’Course not.”
Even though she couldn’t help him in his field of diesel repair, she tried to focus on what she could help with. “You have been putting me down for a reference?”
“No. Never thought of it.”
“Make sure you do that from now on.” Stubborn man. “Have you gotten a job yet?”
He shifted, leaning against her car, his eyes following the other attendees as they walked to their rides. “I visited Mrs. Ford today. She offered to let me set up shop in her husband’s old garage. Actually, it’s pretty new. He just had that and the big new house built before he died.”
Cassidy could hardly keep from jumping up and down. It was a great offer, and one that suited Torque perfectly. “You should take her up on it.”
“Can’t. Don’t have the money to put down on rent.”
If that was all it was. “Let me loan it to you.” She hadn’t touched her trust fund. Probably she was still getting money from the family pickle business, but she had handed over all the info to her accountant and hadn’t touched a thing since Torque went up. Now that he was out...
He gave her a long, hard look. “No.”
Of course. “I knew you were going to say that. What I don’t understand is why.”
“I don’t know.” He looked away.
“I’m calling her tomorrow. I’m sending her a check. You were born to do diesel repair in your own shop.”
“If I did that, I wouldn’t have a regular paycheck. I’d have to advertise.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and brought out two one-dollar bills and some change. “This is all I have in the world.”
She stared at the money, trying to hide her shock. It could have been her, if she didn’t have the family she did and if he hadn’t taken her place. “You realize that if you hadn’t done what you did, our positions would be reversed right now?”
“No, they wouldn’t.”
What He Wants Page 6