"Don't drama and speech involve a lot of reading?"
"A lot of memorizing," he said. "I'd go slow, read into a tape recorder. After that, I just listened and memorized. I nailed my lines every time."
"But you ended up dropping out, right?"
"Funny thing about high school. Eventually they make you write essays and research papers. I was popular as the class clown with the okay grades who had the lead in a few plays. And I wanted to go out on a high note. Not as the obnoxious kid who failed all his classes."
"Nolan..."
"It's not so bad. By that time I knew I wanted to be in radio. So I pushed that dream. And I've gotten to exactly where I want to be."
He told her more about how he'd worked his way up the ladder and about how Connor helped by giving him oral briefings.
"Does he know about the dyslexia?"
"I don't know. I've never asked. If he does, it doesn't bother him, and that's good enough for me."
"And I guess Lauren had issues."
"I never told her. She just thought I was lazy. Didn't apply myself. She never considered that by starting low in radio and working my way up I gave myself a better understanding of everything that went on. Or that I didn't go back for my GED because I reached a point where I didn't need it. And as for ambition, being happy wasn't enough for her--not that we were, but so long as we were living frugally, she would never have been satisfied. She wanted wealth, and she wanted it right then. And the fact that I've been saving since I was fourteen and have a tidy sum put away didn't impress her at all."
"Well, I'm impressed. And as an accountant, that's saying a lot."
He grinned, her words easing the unpleasant memories. "She always made me feel like I couldn't make it. And I think I was starting to believe her, because I've had a similar voice in my head--my father's--my whole life."
He exhaled. "Sometimes I wonder if I should have stayed in school. Harassed the counselor until they got me into a program, and just sucked it up when my dad belittled me."
"No," she said firmly. "No regrets, okay? Because your past made you who you are. And the Nolan I'm sitting here with is pretty terrific."
"Baby..." He cupped her head, then kissed her so tenderly it made his heart ache. When he pulled back, he lost himself in her eyes as he brushed the hair off her face with his fingertips. "Do you want to go back?"
He wanted her--God he always wanted her--and if she wanted to head back to his bed, then he wouldn't hesitate. But right then, he only really wanted to hold her.
"Do you mind if we stay here for a while? I just want to watch the river and be with you."
"Sweetheart, that sounds perfect to me."
* * *
He thought about that night at the river days later as he stood in a tuxedo behind a podium in the ballroom at the Westin Hotel in North Austin. The huge room was full of round tables, each of which sat eight guests. And every table was full, as the staff had told him they would be when they'd called last week to give him an update on the event.
Normally, Nolan had no problem talking to crowds. After all, he did it every day at work, although those listeners were blissfully invisible to him.
Still, he'd never even hiccupped at a public appearance, because that was all about being Nolan Wood the celebrity. Pop on the schtick, and away you go.
Today, he was being himself. And that was infinitely harder.
He'd been a nervous wreck getting dressed at Shelby's house, so much so that she'd had to deal with his bowtie. He'd calmed himself by watching her dress in a stunning red number that she told him she'd borrowed from her friend Hannah.
"Why bother?" he'd asked when she'd put on a lacy thong. "Go commando. You're practically naked under there, anyway."
"You're insane. It's a gala benefit. For kids."
"I don't think kids are coming to the gala. And even if they do, they won't be peeking under your dress."
"I'm not ditching the underwear."
"Not even if it calms my nerves?"