When We Met (Fool's Gold #13)(7)

Consuelo, all five feet two inches of muscle and determination, picked up the magazine, flipped through it, then put it back on the desk. She smiled at Angel. “Thanks. That was thoughtful.”

He shot Ford a “See?” look, then moved toward her. “I know you and Kent got engaged. I hope you’ll be very happy together.”

Consuelo stepped into his embrace and hugged him. When he drew back, she casually stepped to the side, grabbed Ford by the arm and flipped him onto his back. He landed on the floor with a thud. When he could breathe again, he sat up.

“Hey, what was that for?” he asked in a tone of outrage.

“For being cynical. You’re married and you should know better.”

Consuelo turned her back on him, picked up the magazine and headed for the door. “I’ll be back after lunch,” she called.

“It’s not even ten,” Ford grumbled as he climbed to his feet. “Why does she get to leave?”

Angel chuckled. “You want to tell her she can’t?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so. Come on, we’ll head out, too.”

“Where are we going?” Ford asked, falling into step with him.

“To a nursery.”

“Baby or plant?”

“Plant. I ordered an orchid a couple of months ago. It’s in and I have to sign the card so it can be delivered.”

They went outside.

“Why would an orchid take two months to get here?” Ford asked.

“It’s rare. I wanted a specific one.”

From Thailand, Angel thought. An orchid known for its contrasting colors. The outside of the flower was the palest pink, but inside was a dark violet blue. The unusual shade was nearly the exact color of Taryn’s eyes.

“Why do you care about flowers?”

Angel glared at his friend. “What’s with you today? Stop asking questions. Are you coming with me or not?”

Ford leaned against his Jeep and grinned. “Someone’s not getting any. You always get moody when you’re not getting laid.”

“Shut up.”

“Thanks for illustrating my point.”

* * *

TARYN PARKED HER car and collected her briefcase. She’d gone through paperwork the previous evening, had caught up on emails and then been in bed by ten. As a personal life went, it was beyond sad. She needed to get out more, make some friends. As she’d told Larissa the previous day, people in town were certainly nice enough. The women had all been friendly. It was just...

She started across the parking lot and sighed. The town wasn’t the problem, she admitted, if only to herself. She was. She had trouble making new friends. She didn’t trust easily, so sharing any part of herself was difficult. She’d had more than one man point out that after seeing her for several weeks—and by seeing, he meant sleeping with—the guy in question knew absolutely nothing more about her than he had when they’d first met. She never bothered to tell them that was the point. If they were too stupid to figure that out, why should she waste breath telling them?

She hadn’t wanted to leave Los Angeles, but she’d been outvoted. Score was now located in Fool’s Gold. She had to make the best of the situation. More important, she needed to get her life moving again. There had to be more to her days than work.

She heard the sound of a basketball steadily hitting the sidewalk and ignored it. But Sam was nothing if not persistent and he quickly caught up with her.

“Driving to work?” he asked. “You live a mile away.”

She paused and faced him. “Have you seen my shoes?” she asked. “I’m wearing Charlotte Olympia pumps with a five-inch heel. Could you walk to the corner in them? I don’t think so. Besides, you can’t talk to me today. I’m taller.”

Sam sighed. “It’s going to be one of those days, isn’t it?”

“You betcha.”

She flashed Sam a smile, then disappeared into their building. He walked across the street to the basketball court the guys had insisted be part of the remodeling. Not even a half-court, like at their last office. No, this was regulation size. She didn’t know what it had cost and she didn’t want to know.

Had any of her business partners been with her, she would have grumbled to them about how annoying they were, but as she was alone, she paused to look out the window. The three of them, Kenny, Jack and Sam, all wore baggy shorts and T-shirts. Sam, six feet tall and muscled, looked small next to the other two, but he was fast and used his brain when he played. Kenny and Jack mostly reacted. Which explained why Sam usually kicked their butts.

They fought for the basketball, and then Sam ripped it away, turned gracefully, jumped and scored. As she watched, Taryn realized that the boys needed more than each other, too. The same three guys playing basketball a few mornings a week couldn’t be that much fun.

She started toward her office. When she was at her desk, she picked up her phone but set it back in the cradle. She told herself the guys were well into their thirties and could take care of themselves. That she didn’t want anyone—namely Angel—thinking she was angling to find ways to see him. Of course telling him this wasn’t about him would only make him think it was. She sighed and picked up the phone again.

“CDS,” a man’s voice said.