The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(65)

“I was wondering about that tie.” Ryan smiled. “Big plans?”

When Billy stroked the blue-on-blue striped tie, a little color filled his cheeks. “Dinner with her folks tonight. Their twenty-fifth anniversary.”

“I didn’t know you had a serious girlfriend. You’re as good at keeping secrets as you are at uncovering them.” Ryan tossed a pencil across his desk. “Does ‘her’ have a name?”

Billy shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. “Just got back together with my ex, Dina, a few nights ago.”

“I can’t tell if that’s good or bad news.”

“I guess the jury is still out. Truth is, she cheated on me with her ex back in June.”

“Sorry. That sucks. You’re a braver man than I, going back to the hand that bit you.” Ryan wished he had that courage, though. Maybe then he could be with Steffi instead of being tormented by his dreams.

“It’s not easy. When it first happened, she acted like it didn’t mean anything.” Billy’s gaze wandered while he grimaced.

“What made you trust her again?”

“She kept apologizing all summer . . . swore it wouldn’t happen again.” Billy let out a slight chuckle. “Maybe I’m a sucker, but you know, we all make mistakes. I wasn’t the best boyfriend, either. I guess I figure the only way to know for sure if I can trust her again is to trust her. I’m happier today than I was two weeks ago, so I’ll keep my fingers crossed and keep looking forward.”

“I hope you’re right. She’s a lucky woman.” Very lucky, he thought. He wouldn’t have pegged Billy as one to hand out second chances.

“I’m feeling pretty lucky, too.” He flicked his tie and joked, “Except when I have to dress like this.”

Ryan waved him off. “Have a good night.”

He organized his file and then shut off his computer.

On his way to his car, Ryan hugged himself to keep warm in the face of an autumn wind. His thoughts turned to Billy, whose youth allowed romantic optimism to flourish.

Unlike Billy, Ryan wouldn’t be spending a romantic evening with a woman his own age. Nope. His inability to trust meant the only women he’d be spending the night with were his kid and his mom.



“Thank you, Steffi.” Claire hugged her. “I’m so relieved that it’s not epilepsy or a tumor. Not that the tests solved the problem. I wish they had more answers for you.”

“I’m more concerned about answers to our scheduling dilemmas.” Steffi took a seat at the dining table, where Claire had strewn a bunch of estimates she’d worked up for the Hightop Road house.

“Has anyone replied to your want ad?” Claire asked.

“Yes, but they’re all men.”

“That never bothered you before.” She began setting the estimates into piles: tile and granite, fabrics, furnishings, fixtures.

“I’m not bothered, but I’ve spent my whole career working for and with men. I wouldn’t mind a few more women in the mix.” She reviewed the logistics plan for the project. “You’d think a women-owned business would attract at least one.”

Claire wrinkled her nose. “Is there a big pool of female construction workers around here?”

“Obviously not.” Steffi scribbled some notes on the plan. “I’ll put a crew together in another week or two. Perfect timing for this job and the upcoming closing on the Weber property.”

“The Weber property.” Claire pressed her fingers to her temples, shaking her head. “You’re the closest thing I’ve got to a sister, and that’s the only reason—real reason—I caved on that project. If I didn’t see you falling back in love with Ryan, I would’ve put my foot down. But despite my cynicism about love, I’d be happy to be proven wrong in this case.”

Claire would see through any denial, so Steffi didn’t protest. “I’m not holding my breath. He’s come a long way since last month, but he still doesn’t trust me. I hurt him—betrayed him—just like Peyton did to you.”

Claire’s expression turned icy. “When you put it that way, I can hardly believe that he can be in the same room as you.”

“So you don’t think I deserve a chance to prove I’ve changed?” Steffi bristled.

“It’s not my place to judge you, or what Ryan should or shouldn’t do.” Claire sighed. “I love you, and I know you regret the way you handled that breakup, so I want to see you get your second chance.”

“Thanks.” Steffi considered her last call with Peyton two days earlier. Claire’s name had come up only once. Then Peyton dropped it, but not before Steffi heard the desperation in her voice. “You loved Peyton like a sister, too, and believe me when I tell you she regrets what she did. Can’t you make any room in your heart for forgiveness?”

“Please stop pushing me.” Claire balled her hands into fists on the tabletop.

“Pushing? I’ve tiptoed around this for a year. But Claire, there’s no guarantee that her treatments will work. Are you so full of hatred that you’d let her die without talking to her? Without even giving her a chance to apologize? And if she dies without you two ever speaking again, can you live with that?” She clasped one of Claire’s fists with her hand and squeezed it. “I want you to forgive her—not just for her sake and mine, but for yours, too.”