Back Where She Belongs(30)

When Tara finally dropped into the booth, her back to the restaurant, she looked worn out. “Sanctuary,” she said in a drawn-out voice.

“I see what you mean,” he said.

“It’s exhausting. Even my old friends make me crazy. They treat me like a wax figure in a museum, frozen in time. They got married, had kids, have mortgages, but they talk to me like I haven’t changed at all. Dana Gibbons wants to tear up the town one night. Riley Evans is sorry he can’t hook me up with weed now that he’s a teacher. Reed Walker said he’d dust off the Harley and hit the highway the minute his wife leaves to visit her sister. Can you believe that? He’s ready to cheat on his wife for old times’ sake.” She shook her head. “Do I look like I want a drunken bender or a ride on a Harley to you?”

“Nope.”

“Good. I’d like to think I’ve grown up that much.”

“It’s that imprint thing again, I guess.”

“Well, it sucks.” She took a shaky breath. “People are staring, aren’t they?” They were. “I hate being in this goldfish bowl.”

He realized that this dinner would add to the rumor they were back together. Fallon had no doubt spread the word.

“We could leave. Go to my house,” he said, though he didn’t trust himself alone with her again. Since last night, his desire had only intensified, as foolish and shortsighted as that was.

“No. I won’t be chased out.” She sat taller. “Just ignore them.”

“You got it.” That had always been his approach when the scrutiny got to be too much for him. It was easier for him because he was comfortable here. He knew the people, their flaws and strengths. He didn’t see every look as a criticism the way Tara did.

The waitress arrived with chips and salsa to take their orders. Tara picked up the menu, scanned it, then looked up at the waitress. “So I hear Ruthie Rand makes great goat and nopalitos empanadas. I’ll have that and a draft beer.”

Dylan ordered the same. When the waitress left, he said, “Where’d you hear about the empanadas?”

“Ruthie’s mom, Judith, is our housekeeper. Judith told me Ruthie had an offer to cook for a food truck in Tucson, but she’s afraid to leave here. I figure I’ll rave about the dish and hope that encourages her.”

That reminded him she’d been that way in high school, too. Pushing kids with talents to go for it. “Remember Sheila Stark? Goth girl who got suspended for fighting a cheerleader?”

“Sure I remember her. She had a great voice.”

“She took your advice and started a band. Might have an offer with an indie label.”

“How do you know that?”

“Her sister Cherry’s our receptionist.”

“Good for her. Growing up here, it’s easy to feel inferior. You have no real yardstick to measure your talent.”

“I’d say growing up here gave her a safe place to explore her abilities, develop the confidence to take risks.”

“So besides being town manager, you’re head of the Chamber of Commerce?”

“I’m a member, sure, but my point is that everything you disdain about small-town life has a positive side.”

“Yeah?” She grinned at him, ready to mock, except he thought he saw a light in her eyes, too. “So I say it’s stifling and full of gossips and you say...”

“It’s cozy and friendly.” He wouldn’t admit his dislike for the gossip because he knew she would pounce on any sign that he’d been wrong to stay, that he’d settled for less by remaining in Wharton.

He knew she was just as guarded with him.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” she said flatly, the light gone from her eyes. She would not bend on this. Probably not even about the bigger, better Wharton he wanted to build. That was unexpectedly disappointing to him and he found himself saying more.

“You’d be surprised how many midsize companies are looking to move to towns like Wharton. Towns that will give them more attention, where the jobs mean a lot to the community. I was at an Association of Cities and Towns meeting a month ago and started on a target list of businesses. I’ve been assembling proposals when I have time.”

“When do you have time? You’ve got a lot going on at Ryland it sounds like. Did you work things out with Jeb?”

He stopped reaching for a chip to answer. “I convinced him to adjust the threshold on one measurement, but we’re still at odds. I don’t get where the hostility is coming from.”

“Matt said something about Ryland using inferior parts...?”

“That’s bullshit.” He lowered his voice. “Sorry to bark at you. We got faulty components from a vendor on an early shipment, but that’s long fixed. I overheard Matt’s wife complaining about it to her cousin who’s on our assembly line.”

“At the cookware party, right? Matt said you met his wife there. You sure you don’t want to change friendly to gossipy? Sounds like you’ve been stung, too.”

“What matters is we work out the problem.” It didn’t help that his father was disengaged lately. They needed to be united in this final push to get Ryland over the hump, so Dylan could leave the place with a clear conscience.

“I hope you do,” Tara said.

They dipped for salsa at the same time, the mere brush of her fingers sending a jolt of lust through him. He had it bad and it made him feel like a fool.

She swallowed, so at least he knew she’d felt something, too. “I didn’t see Harvey behind the bar,” she said. “He retire?”

“Couple years back, yeah.”

“He used to make us great drinks, remember?”

“He used to make you drinks. He liked you.”

“That’s because he didn’t dare say no to a Wharton. That was one situation I didn’t mind my name.”

“People liked you for you, not your name.”

She shook her head. “Trust me. I had good reason to hang with the dropouts, the stoners and the lost souls. They had enough troubles they didn’t give a shit what my name was.”

He could argue, but he could feel her opinion was set in stone.

She took another chip and dipped it, her face troubled. “I feel bad about some of that. The way I was and how it affected my friends. Like Dana, for example. She was a B student until I got hold of her. Her grades dropped. She never went to college.”

“That was her decision, not yours.”

“But I made screwing off look cool. It wasn’t fair. I had a safety net. I would never starve. I don’t intend to ever take a dime from my family, but I know, deep down, that if disaster strikes I’m covered. That’s an amazing gift I sneered at back then.”

“You were young. You had reasons.” At best, her parents treated her with benign neglect. At worst, deliberate cruelty. Children shouldn’t have to read between the lines to know they were loved.

“Don’t cut me slack, Dylan. I know the mistakes I made.”

They didn’t see the world the same—then or now. Maybe that couldn’t be helped. Tara, like everyone else, was made up of her experiences—the moments, big and small, good and bad, that had shaped her character, her hopes and expectations, her limits and her reach.

“You looked down on me back then,” she said. “Admit it.”

“I thought you were wasting your abilities.”

“You were such a straight arrow.” She pointed a chip at him, then licked the salt off.

He had to close his eyes to handle that sight. He’d forgotten that habit of hers. “Meanwhile, you used to call me Do Right Boy,” he said hoarsely.

“That’s right. I was pretty mean. How did you stand me?”

“I told you why last night.”

“I tickled your brain...I remember.” Attraction burned in her eyes, her pupils large and gleaming. She pursed her lips, her tongue peeking at him, the way she used to before she threw herself at him, as if she were famished and he were a banquet table. Their attraction surged again. It was constantly ticking in the background, waiting for one of them to flip the switch.

The waitress arrived with their beers, breaking the unbearable tension. When she’d gone, Tara tapped her beer to his. “To being wiser.”

“To that,” he said, feeling more foolish every second. “So how did your snooping go?”

“Mixed. I made headway toward getting hired to consult, but I got nowhere in Faye’s office. Joseph locked it down, possibly to keep Faye’s assistant from seeing sensitive stuff. I’d really like to know more about the finances at Wharton.” She tilted her head at him. “Which reminds me. You didn’t tell me Candee worked for us.”

“Yeah. She’s a bookkeeper.”