If We Never Met Page 5

  "I'm sorry." He figured she'd rather have an apology than an explanation. "How are you?"

  "I'm—I don't know how I am. I feel like we're so far apart."

  He'd been feeling that way, too, not just because they'd been physically apart for the last six weeks, but because they didn't seem to have much to talk about anymore. That was probably his fault. He was so caught up in his injuries and his health that he just hadn't been able to be interested in anything or anyone else. "I just need to get through the next three weeks," he said. "Then I'll have a better idea where I stand."

  "I know it's been difficult for you, but you'll be back to normal soon. Life will be even better than it was before."

  Her optimism should have been reassuring, but instead it grated on his nerves. "We'll see."

  "One silver lining in all of this is that you'll have some time off this summer. Linc Adams has invited us to come on a five-day cruise on a super yacht in the Bahamas the first weekend in August. It will be amazing."

  Linc Adams was a popular actor who'd recently starred in a series of action-adventure films. Nikki had had a walk-on part in his newest film, playing her supermodel self. He'd met Linc once and they'd gotten along, mostly because Linc was a big baseball fan.

  "I can't make any plans right now," he said.

  "Why not? You're not going to be playing until at least September, right? Isn't that the earliest date?"

  "I don't know. I have no dates. I have to see how rehab goes, but even if I can't play, I'll still need to join my team at some point."

  "Just to sit in the dugout? I'm sure the coach would give you time off." The irritation in her voice rose with every word. "Why not take advantage of this opportunity to spend more time with me this summer?"

  "I can't decide anything at this moment," he repeated, feeling his own frustration level rising.

  "Well, our relationship can't just be about you."

  "I know that. Let me just get through the next three weeks."

  "Fine. But I'm going to tell Linc that we're tentatively in, just so we don't lose our spot. What about JT's birthday party next weekend? Can you come down to LA?"

  "No, I'm in the rehab center six days a week."

  "He's one of my best friends. And the party will be over the top at a Malibu mansion."

  "I'm sorry. I know I'm not giving you the answers you want, but I can't take time off rehab for a party. Let's talk about you," he added, hoping to change the subject. "How are you doing? Do you have any travel coming up?"

  "I'm staying in LA until mid-July. I want to be in town for the movie premiere. Of course, I'd love you to be there for that, too."

  Nikki had so many plans, none of which he wanted to commit to. And he knew she would quickly tire of him saying no. Nikki was a tall, gorgeous blonde. Whenever she walked into a room, she got everyone's attention.

  He'd been happy to get hers when they'd met in February. While he'd dated models before, Nikki was probably the most famous. She had a huge social media following and was on everyone's VIP guest list. She'd told him the first time they'd met that they would look good together, and he hadn't argued.

  But while they might photograph well, they didn't have a lot in common. Nikki had been born into money and into a world where she was always celebrated. She needed that from the man in her life, too. And his injury had been a huge inconvenience for her. He'd been irritated with her for weeks, but he hadn't wanted to deal with their relationship in the middle of everything else. It had been easy to avoid having a difficult conversation, because they hadn't been together, but that time was coming soon. He just didn't want to get into it all now, when he needed to focus on rehab.

  "Dante?"

  Her sharp voice pierced his reverie. "Sorry, what?"

  "Even when you're talking to me, you seem distant."

  "I'm tired. Why don't we talk another time?"

  "All right. But it's difficult to find a day when you aren't tired."

  "I can't argue with you on that. Maybe we should think about taking a break," he said shortly.

  "No, no," she said quickly. "We don't need a break. Everything will be fine when you're done with rehab. We'll talk later, when you're not exhausted. Bye, Dante."

  She disconnected the call before he could get another word in. He blew out a breath, knowing the hard conversation still needed to be had, but he was fine to leave it for another day.

  Keira had to wait ten minutes for Mark Langley to finish up a meeting, and every one of those minutes increased her dislike and distrust of him. He'd set this time to meet. It irked her that he thought she had ten minutes to just waste away in his outer office. She could be at the store right now or looking at a contract that Brenda had sent through for a rental property they were managing. Or she could be designing Hannah's wedding dress. But instead, she was waiting, and she'd never been particularly patient.

  Finally, his office door opened, and he gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry," he said. "We had a minor emergency with some equipment that seems to have gone missing between Denver and Whisper Lake."

  She got to her feet. "That doesn't sound good."

  "We managed to find it. Please come in."

  "I don't have a lot of time, but I would like to go over some properties you might be interested in."

  "Perfect." He turned to his assistant, a woman named Andrea, who had been nice enough to make her some tea while she was waiting. "Will you hold my calls, Andrea? And thanks again for coming in on a Saturday. If you can stay until one, that would be helpful."

  "Of course, Mr. Langley," Andrea replied.

  Mark waved Keira into his office, which was a luxurious executive suite with large windows overlooking the lake, an enormous oak desk with a brown leather chair, as well as a seating area with a small table and four chairs. He showed her to the table.

  She was happy to be joining him there rather than sitting across from him at his desk, where he would be in the power position.

  "I've found several properties that I think you might be interested in," she said, pushing a file folder across the table. "Two of the properties are two-bedroom single-family homes. I also found a three-bedroom house and a luxury one-bedroom condo with a loft near the heart of downtown. You can walk to everything." It was also the farthest one from her mother.

  "I'm not sure how big of a place I need, but I would think two bedrooms at the least, maybe three. I can turn one into an office."

  "Of course. Do you anticipate having a lot of guests? Perhaps family and friends will be coming to visit? My mother said you have a son."

  "Yes, I do," he said, his tone somewhat heavy. "But I don’t think he'll be visiting. We don't see much of each other."

  "That's too bad."

  "He has his own life. He's studying to be a veterinarian. I'm very proud of him, although, sometimes, I have a difficult time accepting that he's grown up."

  "My mother has the same trouble. Where does your son live?"

  "Los Angeles."

  "I know you went to high school in Denver with my mom. Do you still have family there?"

  "No. My parents have passed away, and my sister moved to New York a long time ago. Perhaps I don't need more than two bedrooms, although this one looks nice." He tapped his finger on the photo of the three-bedroom home. "It's in your neighborhood, isn't it?"

  "About three blocks away, but I think it's overpriced for the square footage."

  Mark gave her a thoughtful look. "Is that it? Or do you also think it's too close to your mother?"

  She hadn't been expecting such a direct question. "Uh, no. You can live wherever you want."

  "You seemed bothered by the fact that I was with your mom last night."

  "I was surprised. I thought she was at home watching a movie. She doesn't go out much and never with people I don't know."

  "But she knows me."

  "She didn't recognize you when she first saw you," she countered.

  "I took her by surprise, and
I've changed a bit. I used to have dark-brown hair."

  "That's what she said." She paused. "I don't know how much my mom told you about her life—"

  "She told me she was in an accident and that she had a brain injury. It sounds like you have done an amazing job getting her back to health."

  "It has been a long road. I'm protective of her."

  "As you should be." He met her gaze. "I hope as you get to know me, you'll be able to trust me."

  "I hope so, too." He seemed like he was being direct and honest. Was that just part of his game? Or was she being ridiculously suspicious?

  A knock came at the door, and then Andrea popped her head into the office. "I'm sorry, Mr. Langley, but you have a call, and she won't take no for an answer. She wouldn't give me her name, but she said it was urgent. She seemed quite upset, almost hysterical."

  "All right. I'll pick it up." He got to his feet, an apology in his gaze. "I'll take a look at these and get back to you, Keira."

  "Sure, take your time. If you're interested in seeing any of them, I'll set up a showing," she said as she stood up.

  "I will do that. I wish we could talk more, but I have to get this."

  "Please, go ahead." She headed to the door as he answered his phone.

  She lingered just long enough to hear him say, "Mandy, why on earth are you calling me here?" He paused, then said, "No, you listen. This stops now." The anger in his voice was unmistakable.

  She wished she could hear more, but Andrea was giving her a speculative look, so she pulled the door shut behind her and left the office suite.

  Mark had definitely gone from friendly and sincere to extremely pissed off with the woman on the phone.

  Why? Who was Mandy?

  Mark had almost persuaded her that her suspicions were unnecessary, but now alarm bells were going off again. She needed to find out more about Mark.

  As she moved through the lobby, she couldn't help noticing that Dante was gone, which was just as well, or she might have been tempted to tell him about her latest encounter with Mark, and she didn't need to do that. She'd already gotten him more involved in her life than he needed to be.

  Chapter Six

  Keira didn't get a chance to dig into Mark Langley's life until Sunday afternoon. But after helping her mom in the garden until one, she took her computer and a tall glass of iced tea out to the pool patio. She sat down at a table under an umbrella to keep the hot summer sun off her face and then opened up her search engine. Twenty minutes later, she was frowning at her lack of success.

  Mark wasn't on social media. However, she was able to come up with a business profile. He'd started out in pharmaceutical sales and then worked his way into healthcare administration, working at a number of small clinics and hospitals before moving to Whisper Lake.

  But the information she wanted was much more personal. She thought about what she did know. Her mom had said his first wife's name was Valerie. And he had a son, Richard, who lived in Los Angeles and was studying to be a veterinarian.

  Tapping those details into the search engine didn't yield better results. She couldn't find a Valerie Langley online. It was possible she was using her maiden name or perhaps she'd remarried. There were a dozen or more results for Richard Langley, but none that seemed to be the right age.

  She thought about what to do next. There were sites she could pay to do research for her. Was she ready to go that far? Not quite yet.

  She opened a new search window and put in Mark and Valerie Langley, as well as the city of Los Angeles. She flipped through several screens, nothing popping out until her gaze settled on a news article about a house fire in the Los Feliz area. A twenty-six-year-old woman named Gretchen Yates had died in the fire. The house was owned by Mark and Valerie Langley, who were not at home at the time. Nor was their nine-year-old son, Richard. Gretchen Yates had been their nanny.

  Her heart sped up as she thought about what she'd just read. Did it mean anything? Her mother had told her that Mark and his wife divorced when their son was nine. Was it a coincidence that the two events had happened the same year? Or was she trying to make something out of nothing?

  She thought for a moment and then entered the name Gretchen Yates. She had to add in several more keywords before finally locating the obituary. Gretchen had been survived by her parents, Rena and Stan, her brother, Donald, and her sister, Amanda. Her pulse jumped again.

  Was Amanda—Mandy—the woman who'd called Mark? Why would they have a connection now, fifteen years after Gretchen's death?

  Her imagination started working overtime, coming up with all kinds of implausible theories. She tried to rein herself in. She really didn't know anything except there had been a fire in Mark's house, a woman had died, and that woman's sister might still be in touch with him. Maybe he'd simply been taking care of Gretchen's family since then. He could be the amazing man her mother wanted him to be.

  As a series of texts popped up on her screen about the party at Lizzie's inn, she realized she needed to put Mark Langley aside for the moment. Lizzie needed someone to pick up a special cake she'd ordered while she waited for someone to fix the cable TV at the inn. She was freaking out that they wouldn't be able to get reception for the awards show.

  Chloe, who was supposed to be bringing a case of wine and a lasagna, said that her almost-three-year-old son, Leo, had just come down with a fever, so she wasn't going to be able to come at all, and if someone could pick up the wine and lasagna, that would be amazing.

  Gianna texted that she was leaving for Denver, so she and Zach might be late. And Hannah said she was stuck at work until five and the bakery would be closed by the time she got off.

  She volunteered to pick up the wine, lasagna, and the cake. Her friends had always been there for her, and she'd always be there for them.

  She took her computer back into the house. Her mom was washing her hands in the kitchen. "I need to help Lizzie for tonight's party," she said. "Do you need anything?"

  "No, I'm fine. I'm just going to read this afternoon. I have a new novel I'm itching to start."

  "That's good. Have you heard from Mr. Langley again?"

  Her mother smiled. "I told you to call him Mark. And, yes, he texted me earlier. He asked me to go to dinner at the Lakeshore Bistro tonight."

  "And you agreed." She didn't even bother to make it a question.

  "Of course. I love the Lakeshore Bistro. And you're busy tonight, anyway."

  "What time are you going?"

  "Six. I'll be home by eight. You really don't have to worry, Keira."

  She didn't have to, but she still would. However, she couldn't skip the party, nor could she talk her mother out of going to dinner, not without some solid ammunition. Right now, all she had was a lot of speculation.

  "Is that handsome man going to be at the party?" her mother asked.

  She'd been trying not to think about Dante, but her mom's question put his very attractive face back in her head. "Lizzie invited everyone at the inn, so there's a chance he'll be there. But I told you, he has a girlfriend."

  "When I first met your dad, he had a girlfriend. Until someone is married, anything can happen."

  "Not if I don't let it. Besides the fact that he's involved with someone, he's just passing through, Mom. A few weeks, and he'll be gone."

  Her mom sighed. "That's too bad."

  She couldn't agree more. She also couldn't help but hope he'd show up at the party.

  Dante tried to read. He'd picked up a book downstairs from Lizzie's extensive library, but it didn't hold his attention. Putting it down, he picked up the remote and turned the TV on, surprised and happy when it worked. He'd seen Lizzie running frantically around the inn with two guys from the cable company, panicked that the cable wouldn't be back before her party, but it was fixed with an hour to spare. He flipped through the channels, not really interested in anything. He didn't feel like starting a movie, and he was staying away from sports, especially baseball games.

&nb
sp; It sometimes killed him not to know what was happening with his team, but he thought it would frustrate him even more if he did know. If they were doing great without him, he'd be happy, but it would make him wonder how valuable he really was. If they were bombing, he'd want to get back so he could help his team. Keeping that information out of his head seemed like the best idea.

  He turned off the TV, got off the bed, and walked to the window. His room overlooked the patio, and he could see several guests sitting at a table, sipping cocktails. He recognized two of the older women as being guests at the inn, but the two other younger couples he didn't know. Probably Lizzie's friends.

  He still didn't know what to do about the party. He had nothing else going on, and he was hungry. He also wouldn't mind having a drink. But he'd have to talk to people, some of whom might recognize him and ask him questions he didn't want to answer. Of course, none of that concerned him as much as seeing Keira again.

  They'd agreed to be friends, which was the best decision for a lot of reasons. Unfortunately, the idea of just being her friend wasn't appealing. He was attracted to her. He'd felt it since the first second she'd sat down at his table, and he felt it even more now that he'd gotten to know her. She was outgoing and friendly and had a dry, self-deprecating sense of humor. She didn't seem to take herself too seriously, and he liked that. He also liked how protective she was of her mom.

  He wondered if she'd discovered anything new when she'd met with Langley yesterday. The guy seemed nice enough. He'd passed him in the hall earlier and exchanged greetings. They were the only two rooms on the third floor, so he had a feeling they'd be seeing each other a lot.

  Turning away from the window, he knew he had two options. He could go into town and find a restaurant and eat alone, or he could join the crowd downstairs. One good thing about staying in was the opportunity to avoid the press. He hadn't seen anyone since Friday night, so it was possible they didn't know where he was staying yet. He had used a credit card attached to a corporation, so his name wasn't on the register, but this was a small town. He doubted his anonymity would last long. Maybe he'd at least check out the party, get the vibe. If it was uncomfortable, he could always leave.