Page 11 of Christmas Rings

“I suppose you could say that, yes,” she said. “But I don’t spend time feeling bitter about what isn’t in my control. What I can do is save my friend from financial ruin by slinging some drinks, so that’s what I’ll do.”

“Does your family know about your job at the club?”

She shook her head. “No. They wouldn’t approve of me running around in my bathing suit serving drinks. My principal at the elementary school doesn’t know either.”

“Is it weird having a secret like that?” he asked.

“Yes.” She took a moment to find the right words. “There’s this whole part of my life I can’t share with them. I mean, Rif and Marty and the girls are true friends who look out for me. I wish I could tell Mom and the girls about them, but I can’t. I can’t take the look of disappointment in their eyes.”

The car slowed and came to a halt. They were probably stopped at the light that turned onto Highway 202. She lived in a suburb called Sammamish. Soon, they’d pass through downtown Redmond, then turn right on Sahallee Way. She wished the drive would never end.

“Do you mind being an only child?” So far, they’d talked about her. He was good at asking questions, drawing her out, but she wanted to know more before it was time to say goodbye.

“I always wanted siblings,” he said. “My mother, especially, is intense. So much…too much attention and expectations. Most of the time I feel like I’ve failed her.”

“Is she hypercritical?”

“You could say that, yes.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he grimaced. “And then there’s my dad. He’s one of these old-school types, who parents like a football coach. Not the good kind like Pete Carol, but the ones who yell and bully their team into submission.” He tugged on his ear and looked away. “Anyway, enough about that.”

“Did he physically bully you?” she asked, too curious to keep her mouth shut.

“Sometimes he roughed me around, yes. Nothing serious. Just some boxing of the ears, that kind of thing.”

“That’s awful. Children should never be hit.”

He smiled gently. “Nah, he made me tough.”

“What’s it like working with him?” She imagined working for a man like that would be rough for anyone, but especially for a son.

He rattled the ice around his glass. “Hard.”

“I’m sorry.”

He lifted his gaze to look at her. “I must sound like a monster.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Poor little rich boy with mean parents, who has his own driver and a business worth millions of dollars.”

“Money has nothing to do with how good a person’s life is or isn’t.” She touched her fingertips to his knee before snatching them away. Why had she touched him? Who was she right now? So free and talkative and touching a man she didn’t know.But you do know him, a voice in her head whispered.You’ve known him all your life. “The only thing that matters is supportive family and friends.”

He watched her without moving a muscle. “Do you really think that’s true?”

“I do.” Transfixed by his gaze, she also froze. A current passed between them.

After a few seconds, he broke the silence. “Sometimes, Ithink about walking away from it all—giving up my place in the business and going out on my own. But to do what? I’m not really good at anything except nurturing client relationships.”

“Aren’t there a lot of jobs like that?” she asked. “Businesses who need good salespeople?”

“I suppose. I don’t know. I’ve felt like there are no choices in my life that haven’t already been made.”

“There’s always a way to reinvent yourself.” She touched his knee again. This time his hand covered hers before she could snatch it away.

“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked.

She pulled her hand back to her own knee. “I can’t. I have to work.”

“Sunday then?”

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