hot, too. She knew a flush rose to her cheeks as she pulled back and let him add the fruit to her glass. When he handed it to her, she was careful that their fingers didn’t meet.
“Your lunch date looked like an interesting guy,” Alan remarked nonchalantly.
“Craig and I have known each other since…” She stopped. “For a long time.”
“You dated through college?”
“No. We kept in touch, but with him in Portland and me at college, we went our separate ways.”
“But now you’re back and he’s here, too.”
Was Alan fishing or just making conversation? She had the feeling he was going to cast out a few more lines, and she didn’t want to answer his questions. They were going to be working together, and she didn’t want him to be judging her while they were. And he would judge her if he found out about Timothy. She was sure of it. She did not want Brian’s friend looking at her as the homeless, unwed mother she’d once been. Maybe it was pride on her part, but she was trying to create a future.
“I’m going to see if Timothy finished his snack. Maybe I can read him a bedtime story before dinner. If you’ll excuse me…”
After a long, studying look, Alan tipped his glass to her. “Bedtime stories are almost as important as goodnight kisses. Enjoy.”
His words lingered as she went to the kitchen to find Timothy. Alan sounded as if he understood. He sounded as if he knew the importance of being a father.
One more reason to keep her past a secret.
During dinner, Alan’s gaze kept going back to Lisa again and again, in spite of his intentions to have a pleasant meal with Brian and Carrie and ignore the young woman who’d been in and out of his thoughts all afternoon. Damn it, she had a pretty face. Yes, she had glossy hair he’d love to run his hands through. Yes, she had a curvy figure that looked wonderful in low-slung jeans. And those boots—
He stabbed a bite of cake as if it might run away from him. He wanted a few questions answered. He and Brian weren’t close friends—not yet, anyway—but he’d been here for dinner before and there had never been any talk about Lisa Sanders. Yet here she was, acting as if she was a relative of some kind.
“So, Lisa, have you always lived in Portland?”
After a quick glance at Brian, she wiped her mouth with her napkin and seemed to consider an answer carefully. Finally she revealed, “I lived in Seattle with an aunt for a couple of years. But I was born in Portland and I always considered it my home.”
“She’s a friend of the family,” Carrie added casually. “We watch out for her.”
So they weren’t related. “You’re very good with Timothy,” Alan remarked. “I thought maybe Carrie had hired you to help out so you could earn extra money for college.”
The two women exchanged a look.
“I help out because we’re friends,” Lisa answered quietly.
There was an uncomfortable silence that Alan didn’t understand. Then Carrie focused her attention on Lisa. “Speaking of being friends, I have a favor to ask you.”
Lisa grinned. “Uh-oh. Let’s see. You want me to help with the spring charity auction.”
“Hmm, that would be great if you could, but that wasn’t what I had in mind right now. I’m in a pickle. My guest for Saturday canceled.”
Alan was aware that Carrie hosted a live Saturday morning talk show in the area. About Portland usually consisted of human interest stories or timely events.
“How can I help with that?” Lisa asked.
“I’d like you to come on and be my guest. You’re intelligent and well-spoken, and I’d like to talk about the opportunities available for young women in Portland who are fresh out of college, settling into the job market now. You’d be great to interview. What do you think?” Carrie was quick to add, “We’d be concentrating on your present job, what you’re doing at Summers Development, where you want your future and career to go.”
Was that relief he saw on Lisa’s face? What did she expect Carrie to interview her about?
“Sure, I can do that. I can even wear one of my new suits.”
“You say it’s this Saturday?” Brian asked his wife.
“Yes, why?”
“Because Lisa will be traveling to Texas with me and Alan next week. We might be gone the following Saturday. In fact, I was going to ask if you wanted to come along. Alan has room on the plane.”
“And there are plenty of guest rooms at the ranch,” Alan said encouragingly.
Carrie thought about it, then shook her head. “I’d have to miss the show. I promised Mom I’d take Timothy up to see her and Dad next week. In fact, if you’re going to be gone, I could just stay overnight. They’d love that. I think this time it’s better if I stay here.”
Alan made eye contact with Brian. “What she’s really saying is that she knows you’re going to be tied up working most of the time we’re gone, and that won’t be any fun.”
“A man who understands women’s subtext,” Carrie said with a laugh.
“I’ve learned a few things in thirty-eight years,” he replied.
Why had he stated his age? So that Lisa knew exactly how old he was? So that she realized they were from different generations? Whether there was chemistry between them or not, their age difference probably couldn’t be easily bridged.
Probably. Why was he even questioning it?
Lisa pushed her coffee away and laid her napkin on the table. “I’d better collect those things from the attic and load my car. It’s getting late and I have laundry to do tonight.”
Carrie frowned. “I don’t think everything’s going to fit in your car. What do you think, Brian?”
“I’ll stuff the rest of it in ours and follow her.”
“Where do you live?” Alan asked.
“On Chestnut.”
“My condo’s out that way. And I have an SUV with a back seat that folds down. Whatever doesn’t fit in your vehicle can go in mine. I don’t mind following you, and it will save Brian a trip.”
Alan wasn’t exactly sure why he’d offered. Maybe because he wanted to see her place…see if she was paying for it herself, or if it was much too nice for an office manager’s salary. Something told him she wasn’t exactly what she seemed. On the other hand, his sixth sense could just be on alert because she unsettled him.
“I don’t have to take everything tonight,” she said, a bit anxiously.
“I really don’t mind following you.” Alan checked his watch. “Besides, I should be going, too. There are some maps and statistics I’d like to go over this evening.”
“On the San Diego resort?” Brian asked with a smile.
“That’s the one.” Standing now, he said to Lisa, “Just point me to the attic.”
Forty-five minutes later, Lisa glanced in her rearview mirror, wishing she could get her life back under control. For the past three years she’d let Brian and Carrie help her, mainly by letting them put her through college, although she’d worked all she could for spending money, books, insurance and anything else she needed. They’d wanted to pay it all, but she’d already owed them way too much—they’d given her baby a home.
At school, she’d felt as if she were putting in time, preparing, but not really living the life she wanted to lead. With graduation, she’d felt on the verge of her future. Today, when she’d read the anonymous note, “You owe me,