Page 9 of That Reilly Boy
So the more the kids can distract them, the better.
“Can we get a dog?” AJ asks, as he does every time he’s around Penny.
I’m not sure why my dog triggers the desire for one of his own, since Penny wants absolutely nothing to do with small children and will stay in her hiding spot until I tell her it’s time to go. To be fair, she doesn’t want anything to do with older children, teenagers or most adults, either. I’m Penny’s person and she only seems to need one.
“We’re not really a dog-friendly family,” Hope says. “We’re busy all the time, and it wouldn’t be fair to a dog.”
None of the adults at the table point out that Aaron works from home, doing freelance bookkeeping and tax prep for businesses around the state, and the kids don’t seem to have made that connection yet. It won’t be long before they do, and then Hope will have to come up with another excuse. She told me once that she’d love to get a dog for the kids, but all the breeds that would run and play as hard as her kids do are the overly shedding kind and she has a thing about dog hair.
“At least there’s a groomer in Sumac Falls if you do get one someday,” my mother says in a deceptively sweet voice, and Aaron and I both pause with forks midair.
Here it comes.
“Did you know Cara Gamble owns Pampered Pets Grooming?” she asked Hope, even though everybody in this town knows that. “Hayden made an appointment to take Penny in tomorrow.”
There’s a long moment of silence before Aaron clears his throat. “There’s only one in town, so it makes sense he’d go to her.”
“We haven’t used her, obviously,” Hope says, “but everybody in Sumac Falls seems to have well-groomed pets, so she’s probably very good.”
Aaron’s gaze flicks to me, but I ignore the look. We both know the only reason I’m taking Penelope to Pampered Pets tomorrow is to get a chance to talk to Cara, but he keeps his mouth shut.
Before Colleen can say anything else, Hope gives her son a bright smile. “AJ, did you tell Grammy about your swimming lessons?”
I smile my thanks at my sister-in-law as the excited child launches into a minute-by-minute recitation of his swim class, including in-depth descriptions of his classmates and the instructor. When he’s this wound up about a subject, he can talk for at least ten minutes without pause, so I turn my attention back to eating my dinner in peace.
Not that I feel peaceful at the moment. Even though I turned down the coffee Hope offered me earlier, the tension that’s taken up residence in my body is going to keep me from sleeping tonight.
In a little more than twelve hours, I’m going to see Cara Gamble again for the first time since the end of finals in my senior year. I was in the office, signing myself out early because I’d completed my academic obligations, and she walked in.
My heart had stopped during the moment our gazes locked. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. I saw the hitch in her chest as her breath caught. The flash of hurt across her face. We hadn’t spoken for months—not a word since we walked out of school and I told her I’d pick her up for the homecoming dance later. And then didn’t.
Then Cara blinked and kept walking, straight into the principal’s office with a stack of papers. She hadn’t looked back and, after signing my name on the senior dismissal sheet, neither had I. Cara wasn’t at graduation the following weekend—Georgia had already graduated and her close friends were in her own class, so she had no reason to attend—and I left Sumac Falls the following day. I couch-surfed in Boston all summer, working as many hours as I could every week until it was time to move into my dorm.
I channeled my pain and anger into being successful—taking the right classes and excelling at them and, more importantly, making the right connections. Jumping a few rungs on the collegiate ladder for my master’s degree and making even better connections. Grueling internships. Then the job with the best investment company in Boston. A brutal schedule and ruthless moves until only a few very wealthy men who preferred country clubs to being in their offices remained above me on the staff directory. All the while, investing just the right side of recklessly until I had enough money to almost sleep well at night.
When I got tired of funding other men’s golf memberships and summer homes, I started my own firm. I worked even longer hours, and once I’d achieved stability, I started a side portfolio earmarked for the one thing I hadn’t yet checked off my list.
When I’ve taken the Gamble house away from the Gamble family and everybody in Sumac Falls knows I did it? Then I’ll finally get a good night’s sleep.
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.
Chapter Seven
Cara
When I woke up this morning, after a long night of tossing and turning, I thought I’d mentally prepared myself for seeing Hayden Reilly walk through my door.
I was so wrong.
The closer the time gets to ten o’clock, the less I’m able to concentrate on anything but seeing him again. I finally give up on making a list of supplies to reorder and just polish the stainless steel tub that doesn’t need polishing.
Maybe he won’t show up.
It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. A guy who would stand a girl up on what was meant to be one of the best nights of her teenage life probably wouldn’t hesitate to blow off a nail appointment for his dog.
But I think he is going to show up because I don’t believe for a second Penelope Louise needs her nails done. He wants to feel out whether I’m as hostile to the idea of his offer on the house as my mother is and, if not, how he can use me to influence her.
As the time nears, I resist the urge to step into my shop’s tiny bathroom to check my hair or look for residual cleaner or wet spots from the scrubbing I’d done. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking I care.
