Page 51 of Everything We Give

Her spoon hovers above her bowl. “You don’t think I’m qualified.”

“I didn’t say that. You’re more than qualified. Al sent me links to a couple of your articles, including a recent one on hiking. I read them while I was back in my room.”

“Youjustread them?”

I blink, frowning. “Yeah, is that a problem?”

Reese finishes her wine and watches the couple next to us. Her index finger listlessly traces the base of her wineglass.

“Is something the matter?” I ask.

She aims a dejected smile in my direction. “I know it sounds stupid, but I guess I’d hoped you were lying.”

“About what?”

“That you weren’t following my career.”

I park my elbows on the table and clasp my hands. “They’re good. The ones I read.”

“Thanks. Two reasons I’m here.” She holds up her index finger. “I was already in London so it was easier for me to get here at a moment’s notice. And two.” She adds her middle finger to the count. “I was at the Rapa this summer. Nieves wasn’t.”

“Youwerein the stands.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

She slowly lowers her fingers and looks at me in shock. “You saw me? Why didn’t you come talk to me?”

I press my mouth into a flat line.

She looks down at the table and wipes a spot of soup from the edge of her bowl. “I think I understand why you didn’t. For what it’s worth—”

“I wasn’t sure it was you,” I interrupt before she takes us back fourteen years. “I was on the curro floor surrounded by horses when I saw you. You were gone by the time I returned to the stands.”

“I had to leave.” She doesn’t elaborate and I don’t prod her further. Alex removes our bowls and returns with the main course. We start eating, Reese seeming lost in her own thoughts. I’m about to ask her what time she’d like to get started tomorrow—I understand the herds aren’t always easy to find so we may need the entire day—when she asks, “How long have you been married?”

I look up from my plate. “You’ve been following more than my career.”

“You’re wearing a wedding ring.” I glance at the tarnished gold band and she admits, “But yes, I have. What’s she like?”

My body warms, thinking about Aimee. “She’s the most exceptional woman I know,” I say, cutting off a bite of chicken.

“She’s a lucky woman.” Reese watches me while I chew. The chicken is succulent and spicy, but it doesn’t compare to Aimee’s cooking.

Reese purses her lips and I sense she wants to ask me a question. I raise a brow.

She leans forward. “The journalist in me needs to know. Your mother. Did you ever find her?”

I shake my head. “No.” But I would soon, as early as next week.

“Are you still looking for her?”

I take another bite of chicken and chew, meeting her eyes.

“You are.” She whispers the answer for me. I look at my plate and pick at the vegetables. “Does she look like her?”

“Who?”

“Your wife. Does she look like Sarah?”

I put down my utensils. They clatter on the plate. “We need to get an early start tomorrow. I’ll meet you in the lobby at eight.” I push back my chair.

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