dark about her husband’s whereabouts, and what he’d been doing for most of their marriage. And to be fair, the secrecy had been for their own protection.
Dammit, Meg shouldn’t have punished her by running away. To some degree their mom had been a victim too. She wasn’t a stupid or naive person. Parker guessed that she’d fully understood the man she’d married, but no one could’ve predicted his other life would end up consuming him.
Parker set his empty bottle down, then dug out some money and laid it on the bar. By the time he looked back, Ginny was gone.
GINNY SLIPPED INTO the ladies’ room and splashed cold water on her face, trying to bring herself out of shock.
What was Parker doing here? Now—after all these years without a word, not knowing if he was dead or alive or living on the moon—he just shows up? She knew it must have to do with Meg. If the family had lost contact with her, just as Ginny had, Parker was probably hoping his sister would be at the reunion. Ginny knew his being here had nothing to do with her. And why that should hurt in the slightest was absurd. She wasn’t a starry-eyed kid anymore.
After Meg had gone missing, they’d found comfort in each other’s arms. That first time, Parker hadn’t even known Ginny was a virgin. He’d felt terrible, had come right out and told her that giving herself should have been something special...with someone she cared about and who cared for her.
Oh, how those words, spoken with heartfelt concern, had cut deep into her soul. Thankfully, she’d had the good sense not to admit that she’d fallen for him months before the night they’d made love. At eighteen, she’d known woefully little about the world beyond her narrow life, and even less about men.
Sadly, at thirty-two, she wasn’t much more enlightened. Being a young single mom who worked at home, Ginny had barely made it around the block. Tilda had kept her—
Tilda.
Ginny gripped the counter for support.
Parker couldn’t know about her. Even if he’d somehow stumbled onto Ginny’s Facebook page, he wouldn’t have seen anything incriminating. She’d been so careful about the meager information she’d posted over the years, including any pictures that would pinpoint Tilda’s age.
Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Ginny sighed. Luckily her mascara hadn’t smudged, but she looked pale. Before the girls started wondering if something was wrong, she reapplied some gloss, swept back her hair and left the restroom.
And ran straight into Parker.
Almost. He took a step back, saving them from a collision.
“Ginny...” He’d removed his sunglasses, his tanned face bringing out the striking blue of his eyes.
“Parker?”
His slow smile sent her heart into a tailspin. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”
Gee, why would she? “You do look different,” she said, and went for the preemptive strike. “Is Meg with you? Is she here?” Ginny asked, forcing excitement into her voice and making a show of glancing around.
His expression barely changed. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“Oh. Well, now you know the answer to that.”
“My mom thought she might show up. I didn’t expect her to be here.”
That wasn’t completely true. Ginny could see in his eyes that he’d held on to some hope. She felt a twinge of guilt for using the ploy. “Did you check at the registration desk?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear for the again. So annoying. She’d quit that nervous habit ages ago. “You know, for the reunion, not the hotel’s.”
“I figured if anyone knew whether she was coming, it would be you.” He paused, studying her closely, clearly looking for something, but she didn’t know what. He had no reason to think she was lying. “When was the last time you saw her?”
Ginny shook her head, the sadness resting so heavily, her shoulders drooped. “Not since she disappeared.”
“Fifteen years ago.”
She nodded, without hesitation, aware that the truth was more complicated than a simple yes or no. “What about you?” she asked because he would expect her to. But she already knew the answer.
“The same.” His phone rang. Without so much as a glance he shut it off. “Meg must’ve contacted you at some point.”
“She did.”
“How?”
Ginny’s stomach lurched. She’d be honest with him, for as long as she could, but the questions were bound to get more difficult. “Through Facebook, mostly. Sometimes she called.”
“That’s more than my mom got,” he said with a snort of derision.
“Did Meg even know how to find any of you?”
Parker’s eyes narrowed. He had the audacity to look confused.
Ginny held her breath. Why on earth had she said that? And with that snarky tone of voice? Yes, he’d taken off without a word to her. Yes, it had hurt at the time. Fifteen years ago. She didn’t care anymore. But that’s not how it had just sounded.
She shot a look toward the bar, seeking an escape route, when she saw the exact moment he realized what she’d meant. Regret replaced confusion, which was so much worse.
“I’m here with friends and I need to get back.” Refusing to look up, she tried sidestepping him.
“Ginny.” He touched her arm. “Wait. Please.”
“Nice seeing you, by the way.” She drew her arm back and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. A group of inattentive golfers jabbering on about their scores had hemmed her in. “Excuse me, please,” she said to no avail.
“This way.” Parker took her by the arm and guided her around the oblivious foursome.
“Thanks,” she murmured, hoping he didn’t think that had earned him any points. “I’m sure you understand this is a busy weekend for me.”
“I do,” he said, “but I’m not going anywhere. If you find that you have some time to spare, how about we have a drink tomorrow?”
She stared blankly at him. What did he mean he wasn’t going anywhere? “How long will you be staying?”
“I haven’t decided yet. What about you?”
“Me?”
Parker smiled. “When do you leave?”
“Oh, no. I’m not—I live here.” She wanted to take the words back. He looked shocked, but of course he wouldn’t know anything about the unexpected twist her life had taken. If she’d stopped to think for two seconds, she would’ve left his misconception blessedly intact.
Questions swirled in his eyes. “You did go on to Juilliard, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” At least she didn’t have to lie about that. She spotted Connor Foley, the pompous boor most of her classmates, including she, tried to avoid. “Connor?” She waved, catching his attention. “I’m sorry, would you excuse me for a moment,” she said to Parker.
She’d taken only a few steps before Connor thwarted her escape by approaching at a fast clip.
“Ginny,” Connor said, his arms open. “Ginny Landry. How wonderful to see you.”
Ordering herself not to gag, she let him wrap her in a big hug. He smelled awful. Undoubtedly his cologne was expensive; everything he owned was top-of-the-line. His family was loaded. But Connor had always been short on class and