Providing the name hadn’t been necessary. Nor his academic credentials.
In fact, since coming home to Hope Harbor, he rarely mentioned his degree or earlier career—and never the company he’d worked for in Coos Bay.
But for reasons he didn’t care to dwell on, he wanted this accomplished woman to know he was well educated and had had options other than the mill if he’d chosen to pursue them.
“That’s an intriguing career shift.” After setting the stage for him to say more if he wanted to, Devyn went back to eating.
May as well continue. What would be the harm in telling her a few more details?
“Not a total shift. The mill was my summer job during high school and college, and I liked the work. More than sitting in an office all day.”
“I hear you. A desk job wouldn’t be my preference, either. What do you do at the mill?”
“I’m the supervisor.”
“Ah. A management position.”
“In name, anyway. There are days the job is more physical than mental.”
Her gaze dropped to his chest before zipping back to his face. “I, uh, imagine that helps you stay in shape.”
He tried to ignore the sizzle sparking in the air around him. “That, and trying to keep up with the younger set.” He tipped his head toward Isabel, who was still giving the pancakes her undivided attention.
Devyn’s features softened. “I’m sure that’s a special challenge now. Lauren filled me in on your situation. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. But Gramp’s been a huge help. Having family close by is a blessing.” Time to shift the spotlight back to her—and see if he could glean a bit more information about the situation with her mother. “Speaking of family, it was lucky you were available to help Lauren after the accident, despite the cross-county trip involved. But at least you didn’t have to travel cross-continent, like your mom would have had to do.”
The indecipherable look was back. “Even if Mom were close, she doesn’t do well with health crises. Now that Dad is gone, for all practical purposes it’s just me and Lauren.”
There was definitely something lacking in her relationship with her mother. With Isabel at the table, however, this wasn’t the timeto explore that subject. Instead, he focused on her comment about her dad. “Your father was a nice man.”
Her eyes warmed. “Yes, he was. The best. I wish I’d been able to visit more often.”
“I gather your job keeps you on the go.”
“That’s an understatement. There’s no downtime during the season. Classes and rehearsals and costume fittings and performances fill up my days. And I often take guest roles during the off season.”
“Do you ever get tired of such a fast pace?”
“Sometimes.” She scooped up another bite from her skillet. “My schedule has been frenetic for years. Being back here reminds me what life is like when you have time to breathe. I could get used to this. And I will, someday in the not-too-distant future when I retire.”
Retire?
The beautiful, lithe young woman across from him was thinking of retiring?
“Aren’t you too young to have retirement on your mind?”
“No. Dancers have a short shelf life. After you subject your body to abuse for decades, it starts to protest. Most ballet dancers stop performing around the age of thirty-five. I’m not too far away from that number.”
“What comes next?”
“TBD. But I have a business degree, thanks to classes I took whenever I could squeeze them in. My company has a program that helps dancers prepare for life after ballet, and I took full advantage of it from the get-go.”
No moss grew underthiswoman’s feet.
Impressive.
Before he could respond, Isabel came up for air and rejoined the conversation. “Did you ever dance inSleeping Beauty, Miss Devyn?”
