Page 12 of Nothing to Fear

“Darroch,” Alice’s abrupt voice put the woman right there. Nearby. Close. Too close. How long had she been listening? “Are you being rude?”

“Expressing a healthy interest,” he said, unperturbed by his mother’s proximity. “Did I offend you, Cherry?”

Okay, that wasn’t her name but… “No more than I offended you earlier.”

“We have the results,” Alice Breckenridge said, “if you’d both like to join your team.”

The others were gathering a dozen yards away.

“Results?” she asked, taking the proffered hand towel from Darroch.

Two distinct sides formed. In the middle of one was Caber.

“We’ve got it locked here,” Caber crowed to his brother. “Go back to your dirty dishes, Roch.”

“Everyone in their place,” Alice said.

Darroch laid a hand on the middle of her back to guide her into their cohort. The heat of it tickled up and down, but the span gave reassuring weight broad enough to support the width of her narrow waist.

“Hush, hush,” Celeste said.

Eager, electrified silence descended.

“The numbers have been tallied and verified,” Alice addressed her audience. “Though it was close, we do have a winning team…” Yes, yes, who? She’d never had a competitive bone in her body. Until right then. “Congratulations to… Breckenridge Intimates.”

As a wail of joy exploded from her group, the other mirrored it with outrage.

Yvette hugged her and Nessa smacked a kiss on her cheek at the same time she was pulled the opposite way, up against a solid column. The cologne betrayed that column had a name, one she hadn’t known that morning: Darroch Breckenridge.

“Now, please,” Alice said, barely audible over the furor until Darroch vibrated, his loud, sharp whistle quieted all. “Thank you, sweetheart. We would like to invite the winning team to have dinner at our family table tomorrow night.” More cheers and groans. “And in light of this incredible inspiration, my family and I would like to invite all of you to sign up to next year’s Breckenridge Walkathon in aid of Lighting Darkness.”

That got everyone chattering. The excitement was contagious.

“Are you going to sign up?”

Huh, oh, was he—he was. Darroch was talking to her. Only her.

“Oh, uh, I sign up for every charity event I can. We have another couple this month. Celeste and Maureen regularly go head-to-head.”

“And the charity wins either way. Great hobby.”

For her, it was more than that, but he didn’t need to know the truth. He didn’t need to know anything about her. If fate had any kind of mercy, they’d never cross paths again. And maybe a bout of viral amnesia could strike the group thus erasing this day of shame from everyone’s memory. Perfect. Worked for her. Should she send a memo?

“Savanna!”

Celeste’s cry startled her into jumping away from him and his still cradling arm. Though the momentary strengthening of his embrace suggested Darroch maybe didn’t want to let go.

She went to her boss, encircled by colleagues, phone aloft.

“What is—”

“Sign here, we’re putting your name in.” The others were all there, why shouldn’t she partake? “Don’t forget the bowling tournament next weekend.”

They’d see each other at work and at dinner too, apparently. It would be pretty difficult to forget their commitment.

“Are we doing the dinner thing?”

Because she’d get out of it if she could. Maybe the refined Breckenridge matriarch was only extending the invitation to be polite. Could be attendance wasn’t compulsory.

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