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“Yeah, well, you get on. You have to.” He was quiet again, and she thought he was done with the topic when he added quietly, “He was a good dad, so I’m glad we got the time together that we did. My parents divorced when I was five, and for a while it was just the two of us. He loved baseball, was a huge Giants fan. The two of us would go to a couple of games a year in San Francisco. After he died, I moved back in with my mother.”

“How old were you?”

“Eleven.”

“And your sister? Where does she fit in all this?”

“My mother wasn’t really much for making a commitment to anyone. Men were always coming in and out of her life. Part of why my dad left—he had already resigned himself to sharing her with her job, but he wasn’t about to share her with another man. Or men, as the case might be.”

She didn’t have words to communicate how sad she thought it all was. A parent should be someone to set an example, or at least try. Someone to hug you and tell you how much he or she loved you each and every day. She was certain Henry hadn’t been so lucky.

Without thinking, she rested her hand on top of his and turned to meet his gaze. But she didn’t say anything, words seeming unnecessary through this brief connection. And then it was over and she pulled her hand away and back to the steering wheel.

“Anyway,” Henry continued, “after my dad and I left, she remarried two more times, and Morgan was a result of one such union. Like me, she’d been growing up in that huge mausoleum with our distant mother for company, although unlike me, she didn’t have the comfort and love of her father. He took off before the ink was dry on the divorce papers. Needless to say, she was starved for affection when I arrived. She was my shadow for so long, so in many ways, as heartbroken as I was losing my dad, in moving back, her attention and need helped fill the void of my dad’s absence. I found someone who needed me. We needed each other.”

“And your mother? Do you see her?”

“She passed last fall,” he said with no inflection.

Benny risked another glance at him. That had to be rough. As much as he had reason to dislike his mother, in death, there was no room for any kind of reconciliation. Or forgiveness. She held her tongue, though, sensing he didn’t seek her sympathy.

They’d arrived at the garage, and she punched in her code and waited for the door to open before pulling in.

“Sorry we didn’t make it very far in your lessons today. Maybe we can try again next Sunday. You know, if you still want to try and learn a few things.”

She nodded as they reached his parking space and pulled in next to her Mini. “I’d like that.” Because even if her morning at the club hadn’t endeared her to the sport any more than before, the prospect of spending more time in Henry’s company had some appeal. Okay, a lot of appeal. But it was only because he was so irreverent and funny and easy on the eyes. “And since I don’t think I’ve said it before…thanks, Henry. For your help.”

She reached over to grab her bag, and before she could open the door, Henry was there, already holding it for her. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit it was terribly flattering and sent her heart skipping a beat or two.

They walked toward the elevator, neither of them speaking, when the familiar ding of its arrival sounded. Looking over, Benny caught a glimpse of long black hair on a statuesque woman stepping into the elevator.

Lord. That horrible woman again. This time Benny didn’t even bother to call out to ask her to hold the elevator. Not only because she knew the beast wouldn’t, and there was no reason to give her the satisfaction of ignoring the request, but because she was enjoying the peace that had fallen between her and Henry.

Henry, however, wasn’t aware of the woman’s predilection toward deafness and shouted, “Hold the door.”

And in an act that initially surprised Benny, the woman…did.

The wide smile the woman shot Henry a minute later disavowed Benny of the possibility the woman was maybe not as bad as she’d thought. Which she confirmed when the woman only gave a barely concealed disdainful look at Benny before leaning in toward Henry as they stepped into the elevator.

“Thank you,” Henry said congenially. “You’d think with the prices we pay to live here they’d at least have an elevator that didn’t run on weights and pulleys. I’d have aged another decade before it returned for us.”

The woman opened her mouth wider and laughed. Benny managed not to roll her eyes and watched as Henry pushed the button for their floor.

“You’re Henry Ellison, aren’t you?” the woman asked with unbridled interest in her dark, almond-shaped eyes.

“In the flesh.”

“I thought so. I was reading about you the other day. Your firm was just nominated for an award in the small agency category. Best digital campaign, wasn’t it?”

Henry nodded modestly. “True.”

“And if I’m not mistaken, at next week’s Salt Lake conference, you’re rumored to be finalists for taking the gold for best small agency of the year in the West.”

How the heck had the woman known that?

As if anticipating Benny’s thoughts, the woman added, “I’m in PR. I follow these things. I’m Lela.” She held her hand out to Henry, who took it artfully. The woman, however, had ceased to recognize that Benny was there and drew her hand back, her attention only on Henry. “That’s quite an accomplishment.”

“I can’t take all the credit. It’s a team effort.”


Tags: Ashlee Mallory The Sorensen Family Romance