He tossed a chip into the center of the table. “I’d like to hear your answer here.”
Lucy tossed a chip as well. “You first. I’m calling.”
“Honesty and loyalty.” He took a slug of beer.
“You didn’t start with ‘I confess.’” She picked at the label on her barely-touched beer.
“Iconfesshonesty and loyalty are the most important part of any relationship.”
“You sure?” Her heart skipped a beat as she waited for his reply.
Honesty and loyalty hadn’t exactly been part of any of the relationships she’d witnessed him having in Florida.
He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Absolutely. You should match the confession.” He sucked down a gulp of beer.
Unfortunately, her streak of not sharing couldn’t go on much longer.
Lucy twisted the hair. “I confess I know a lot of people.” She glanced down at the table. “But I only have one real friend. She’s there when I need her, and I return the favor. So, to me, the most important part of friendship is being there when you’re needed.”
From the moment Lucy had moved into the freshman dorm at college, Katie had stepped up to be her friend. When Lucy struggled, Katie was there for her. She’d helped Lucy lose the weight and introduced her to the painful reality of an eyebrow wax.
William stared at her for a few beats. “Only one real friend?”
“Honesty and loyalty are really your thing?” Lucy raised her eyebrow at him.
Back when she’d known him before, she lived in a world of make-believe and hoped she was important to him. She had daydreamed of the day he would realize she was more than the chubby production assistant, and he’d give her some of that attention he’d reserved exclusively for the other women on set. Yep, she had crushed hard on him. Her heart broke that summer when he left, and she swore the next time she met a guy like William, he wouldn’t forget about her.
He sat forward on his chair, leaning his arms on the table. “Did I do something to upset you?”
Fine. So she was being a total grouch and scratching at old wounds to ensure they wouldn’t close. Eight years had passed. The statute of limitations on judgment for his past indiscretions was over. She wasn’t that insecure, shy girl anymore. Her past no longer defined her. He didn’t remember her, and it was better this way. Time to let it go and start fresh. “Sorry, no. Next question.”
William read the next card. “If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be and why?”
She sucked in a breath. Her parents weren’t the kind you talked about openly. No, they were the kind who left you with enough issues to fund the vacations of future therapists.
“You go first this time.” William nudged her shin with his toe.
“You didn’t add any chips,” she pointed out.
“Let’s just answer the questions. We’ll get to know each other better. It’ll make the time here easier.” His dimples swept away her resolve.
“I confess I would’ve liked parents who kept me around.” Where did that come from? Sheesh, yeah, it was true. But it wasn’t something she shared with anyone.
“Your parents didn’t want you around?” Abruptly aware of his proximity, she glanced down to where his hand rested only an inch away from hers.
“Mom and Dad are different.” She heard herself speak, but remained unclear which synapses were giving direction at the moment. “When they’re together, they want me around, when they’re in the midst of one of a thousand breakups, they pretend I don’t exist. They toss money at me. I stay away. A few months ago, they broke up again.” She’d refused to take anything from them this time around. This time around she decided to do things herself. Which is what landed her in Camelot. “We’ve only emailed a few times since. Last I heard, it’s looking promising they might reconcile soon.”
Not that it mattered to her. Not really. She was done with that part of her life.
“Siblings?” The slightest of movements brought his fingers even closer to hers, and the desire to trace the line of his gold wedding band nearly overpowered her.
“No.” Thankfully, some part of her brain wasn’t focused on his proximity and continued to play the game. “You?”
“No siblings.” He frowned. “Always wanted a big family, but that didn’t happen. Mom got sick when I was a kid. Cancer. She beat it. Couldn’t have more kids, so she threw herself into her work at Crestone. Cancer came back. She died. Dad married the housekeeper.”
Whoa. “That’s awful.”
“You have no idea.” His face went totally blank.
