This was hideous. Where was that earth-swallowing when you needed it?
“Mrs. Winters,” he said, giving my mother a hug that was both respectful and genuinely affectionate. “It’s so good to see you. How have you been?”
“Wonderful, dear. And look who’s home!” She gestured to me with the kind of maternal pride that suggested I was a prize rather than a temporarily displaced professional seeking refuge.
Declan’s attention returned to me, and I was grateful I’d changed my outfit before leaving the house. The emerald green sweater I was wearing hugged my curves in all the right places, and my dark jeans were expensive—to me—and fabulously cut. If I were going to run into my teenage crush as an unemployed loser, at least I looked like a successful adult who took care of herself and understood the importance of well-fitted clothing. Appearances, and all that.
“You look great,” he said, and there was something in his voice that suggested he meant it as more than just polite social convention. “It’s really good to see you again.”
“Thanks. You too.” Which was an understatement of massive proportions but seemed like the safest response to his obvious physical improvements and continued ability to make me feel like a fifteen-year-old with her first serious crush.
“Are you home for the holidays?” he asked, which was a reasonable question that unfortunately required acknowledging my current life situation.
“Yes, let’s go with that,” I said, choosing the most diplomatic version of ‘I got fired and had to move back in with my parents.’
“Great,” he said with that slow nod that made me feel about an inch high. Does he know? Does he know I was given the old heave-ho out of the door?
“What about you?” I asked. “Mom mentioned you’re taking time off?”
“Sabbatical,” he said with a slight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Turns out even dream careers sometimes need perspective checks.”
The admission surprised me, mainly because it suggested that even successful lawyers who looked like they belonged in menswear advertisements sometimes struggled with professional satisfaction and life direction. Now I felt bad for lying. Omitting. Whatever.
“Well,” Mom interjected with the kind of bright efficiency that meant she was about to create a social situation whether we wanted one or not, “you two will have to catch up properly. Holly’s going to be here for a while, and I’m sure you have lots to talk about.”
The implication was clear:I am creating opportunities for you to spend time together, and you’re welcome for my excellent matchmaking services.
“That sounds great,” Declan said, and he actually seemed to mean it rather than just being polite about Mom’s obvious interference. “Maybe you could join Matt when we meet up later. We could get coffee.”
I sighed. Tagalong Holly strikes again. “I’d like that,” I heard myself say anyway.
“I should let you get back to your day,” Declan said, glancing at his watch with the kind of gesture that suggested he was used to managing his time carefully. “But I’m really glad we ran into each other.”
“Me too,” I said, meaning it despite the fact that my emotional equilibrium was probably going to need several hours to recover from this encounter.
As we walked back to the car, Mom was practically vibrating with satisfaction. “Isn’t it wonderful how things work out?” she said with the kind of studied casualness that meant she was taking full credit for cosmic intervention.
“Mom,” I said warningly.
“What? I’m just saying it’s nice when old friends reconnect. Especially when they’re both at transitional points in their lives.”
Transitional points.Right. As if my professional disaster and his sabbatical were equivalent situations, rather than him choosing to take time off from his successful career while I was forced to retreat from my failed one.
But as we drove home through streets that were starting to feel familiar again, I found myself thinking about the way Declan had looked at me—not like Matt’s little sister or a charity case, but like someone he was genuinely pleased to see. Someone he found worth talking to.
Maybe Everdale Falls wasn’t going to be the temporary hiding place I’d expected. Maybe it was going to be something more complicated and potentially more interesting.
And maybe being temporarily unemployed and living with my parents wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to someone who’d forgotten what it felt like to be excited about possibilities instead of just managing professional obligations.
Some homecomings were definitely more complicated than others, especially when they involved running into attractive men who made you remember what it felt like to be interested in something other than career recovery.
But complicated wasn’t necessarily the same thing as bad. Sometimes complicated was just another word for interesting.
And after months of corporate predictability and professional and personal disappointment, interesting was exactly what I needed.
Five
DECLAN
