Kitabı oku: «Marrying the Boss», sayfa 3

Chapter Three

Leanne swallowed a sigh as she inspected the Collins financial reports. CoCo basically owned every kind of small firm imaginable. Everything one needed, CoCo had taken over a company that made it. They specialized in buying small-to medium-sized companies, revamping them with either an administrative clean sweep or a production overhaul, then selling the company again for a profit.

She would lose this challenge to Mark, and her lack of knowledge irked her. She didn’t know of any business in trouble. She couldn’t find any product CoCo needed to make at the companies it currently owned. Leanne tossed the report on her desk to rub her temples. Mark had found her a middle-management-sized office. She’d had no inclination, nor time, to decorate it, so it sat bare and uninspiring with its beige walls and carpet. It felt unused, unmoved-into, just a transitory space.

Leanne sighed. Pretty soon, she wouldn’t even have a temporary spot at Collins. She’d be back at school in her real office. Fortunately, she’d been scheduled to teach one night class on Monday and two day classes which met Tuesdays and Thursdays. She’d shown up at CoCo Monday, Wednesday and Friday of the last two weeks, sometimes in a catatonic state, but trying nevertheless. For all the good it would do her.

Mark, however, didn’t share that problem. He knew which companies CoCo had been looking at for takeover. He’d come up with ideas for products to manufacture. Glancing at her desk made her groan; she owned several Collins desk accessories, although, since they sported the brand name, Mark of Excellence, she hadn’t known that. All the Mark of Excellence products had begun as Mark Collins’s ideas. His little improvements on everyday items had made CoCo a fortune.

An idea for a new product line stumped her. She’d looked into their client list and drawn a blank there, too. She hated to admit defeat, but the challenge ended tomorrow.

“Something I can help you with?”

Leanne stiffened at the sound of Mark’s voice at her doorway. She gave him a small, tight smile. “No, I’m fine.”

They’d run into each other as she’d inspected different departments in the company. He exuded confidence and control. Mark ran the operations as acting head until the competition decided their futures. Never had she seen him so much as ruffle his hair in frustration over the double stresses of keeping CoCo going and vying for the right to do so.

“Have you had lunch?”

She eyed him. Every time she saw him, he wore a dark business suit. This one, a navy blue, showed off his wide shoulders, narrow waist and long legs. Mark always appeared professionally turned out. His hair lay in tidy near-black neatness. His tie always coordinated.

She felt underdressed. Her brown pantsuit had worked at the university but didn’t fit here. No doubt she looked harassed and wrinkled compared to his cool assurance. She’d never be able to think of an answer to the challenge. She had so much to learn—

“Leanne?”

Pulled from her panic over the project, Leanne couldn’t remember his question. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Have you had lunch?”

His faint smile annoyed her. He knew all too well she hadn’t been eating at the lunchroom here. He knew she hadn’t come up with a product or a client or—

“Is that a no?”

She shook her head. “No.” No, I haven’t eaten, and no, I won’t eat with you.

“Well, if you have time, I’d like to take you to lunch.”

She opened her mouth to decline. He raised his palm to halt her.

“Before you say no, let me suggest a truce. No company talk. I thought maybe we should get to know one another.” His shoulders moved in an awkward shrug. “We are family, of a sort.”

His suggestion threw her off-balance. Although formal, it was still an overture. She didn’t expect him to be charming or personable, but here he was, reaching out to her. She could ignore the rush of attraction she felt, but she couldn’t deny its existence. Mark usually came across as aloof, except in Gloria’s presence. Then he seemed rigid and proper, with a fine edge of tension.

Gloria. Something niggled at the back of Leanne’s mind. Something to do with this lunch invitation and his mother, but she couldn’t recall it. Without a valid reason to excuse herself, Leanne said, “Lunch would be nice.”

Mark grinned, and she had to catch her breath. Genuine humor lit his eyes, created dimples and nearly made her swoon. If he weren’t off-limits to her, she might have had to reach for support. She’d never seen this side of him.

“That’s a very cautious acceptance,” he said, “but since you did agree, I’m holding you to it. Maybe after we’ve had lunch, you’ll find out I’m not so bad. Next time I ask, you might even say, ‘yes, thank you, I’d be delighted.’”

Leanne laughed, rising. “One can hope.”

He crooked his arm to escort her. She stared. Was he kidding? Besides being ridiculously old-fashioned, she would appear to be flirting with him. The Collins people would never take her seriously. “Shall I get my coat or are we eating in?”

“Let’s not eat here. We’d never have a quiet moment, and all eyes would be on us.”

She murmured her agreement as she reached his side. Whenever they’d been in the same room, all activity had stopped while the employees observed them. It unnerved her, which she tried to hide. She had enough pressure to deal with at CoCo; she didn’t need constant scrutiny. “If you’d just let me know where you’ll be, I could try to avoid you.”

“I thought you’d been doing that already.”

Leanne stopped. Had his voice held a tinge of disappointment? “No, I haven’t. I’ve just been running around the place, trying to learn everything fast.”

She mentally slapped herself. Don’t admit your vulnerabilities. It gave him an edge, and being so far behind in matters of the company, she couldn’t afford to give him any further advantage.

“I’d be happy to help you.”

She spun to face him, astounded.

His mouth hung open, his brown eyes wide. He looked so stunned, Leanne laughed. After a moment, Mark chuckled. “Well,” he said, “maybe not happy.”

“And maybe not really helpful.”

He shook his head, still smiling. “I’d like to assure you of my willingness and honorable intentions, but I’m just not that good a person.”

“You’re human.” She grabbed her jacket and purse. “In the same situation, I wouldn’t help you, either.”

He stared at her. She flashed a grin as she walked past him. His quiet laughter reached her. Maybe lunch with Mark wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

He hailed a taxi at the curb. “Moving my car just isn’t worth the hassle. I hope you don’t mind?”

She shook her head, well-acquainted with Chicago parking.

They got out at a Chinese restaurant near enough to CoCo that they could have walked. Maybe multimillionaires didn’t walk, she mused. Glancing around the room, Leanne didn’t recognize anyone. They chose a table against an inner wall for privacy. A fish tank sat in the middle of the dark paneling. “Not the CoCo—I mean, the Collins Company executives’ favorite lunch spot?”

Mark smiled. “Which is why I chose it.”

“Don’t want to be seen fraternizing with the enemy?”

“There’s that, and I thought it would be more private. I’d like to get to know you, since you’re the Lion’s daughter.”

Leanne narrowed her eyes, pretending to study the menu as the waitress set their tea before them. She doubted his motives and for good reason. “You’ve had thirty years to get to know me, Mark. I may be just a business professor, but don’t play me for a fool.”

“You think I have some other reason?”

She glanced at him. His raised eyebrow gave him a pompous, cynical air. His arrogance stiffened the hairs on her neck. “You don’t consider me much of a threat, do you?”

His gaze dropped to the menu.

Perhaps it was better he didn’t answer, she thought. Then she wouldn’t have to dump that tiny cup of weak, lukewarm tea in his lap and walk out. With a small smile, she pictured him blotting tea off his crisp slacks.

They ordered crab Rangoon and egg drop soup to start.

“Everything on the menu looks good,” Leanne said to break the silence. “I’m not picky if I don’t have to cook.” She calculated how much time she could afford to take for lunch. She needed to do some grading. She usually ate at her desk, reading, grading and adjusting her lesson plans. Although it would have been wise to chat up some of CoCo’s administration during lunch, she had two demanding “jobs” and couldn’t take the time. She had to preserve the job that paid. “Maybe the Hunan chicken.”

“Then I’ll get the Mongolian beef. We can share.”

The simple suggestion shouldn’t have bothered her, but the idea of sharing anything with Mark made her frown. The waitress appeared and took their orders.

“You want just plates?” the waitress asked. “Or I bring it family-style? You serve selves. Take what want.”

Mark frowned. “We’ll have it…We’ll serve ourselves.”

The little woman jerked her head up and down several times and left.

He couldn’t even say “family-style.” Leanne swallowed. What a disaster. She couldn’t be a casual friend with this man. He represented all the pain from her childhood, and he obviously had issues of his own regarding her.

“So,” Mark said, “how’s it going at Collins?”

She shrugged.

“I’m not trying to find out what you’re doing.” He glanced at the fish tank, drawing her eye to it also. Goldfish darted through the green plastic fronds, scattering the striped yellow and black fish. The blue-and-orange clown fish floated along, seeming not to notice the crazy flashes of gold. “Perhaps we should discuss something other than work.”

“What would that be? Our upbringings?” She bit her lip. “Mark, face it. We don’t have anything to talk about.”

“I disagree. I’m very interested in your upbringing, especially since I didn’t know anything about you until a month ago. When you say I’ve had thirty years to get to know you, you’re mistaken.”

“What do you know about me already?” She knew he’d had her investigated. She remembered the conversation she’d heard between him and Gloria the day she’d gone to CoCo to refuse the challenge. Their harsh words and indictment of her mother had changed her mind about competing.

A decision she’d made rashly and had regretted ever since.

“I know you’re a professor in business at the University of Illinois at Chicago. I know you’re single and have an apartment at the end of Rush Street.” He smiled. “An interesting location, but I don’t know what to make of it.”

“It came available five years ago. Being in the midst of all the bars and fun appealed to me then.”

The waitress set their soup in front of them. “Crab Rangoon out in minute.” She hastened away.

“And now?” Mark asked.

She tasted her soup. “It’s far enough away from UIC I feel like I’ve left work, but it’s convenient to the El, making transportation easy. I’m ten floors up, so the noise doesn’t keep me awake at night, and it’s a well-policed neighborhood.”

“I’ll bet.”

She grinned. “You didn’t party in college?”

“Sure, I did.”

She smiled to herself as she finished her soup, unable to picture him at a fraternity toga party. He struck her as so serious. “I’d like to move to a house one day. Right now, there’s no need. What about you? Where do you live?”

“I have a place at Jennings.”

“Jennings Towers? The new condos?” Leanne whistled. “I’ve heard they have a lot of square footage for a location in the city.” Pricey, too. But then, he could afford it. Another difference in their upbringings.

Mark finished his soup and set his bowl to the side with hers. As though this had been a prearranged signal, the waitress plunked down two small plates, a serving platter of crab Rangoon and a bowl of red sauce, then whisked their bowls away.

“I could use her at Collins,” Mark said, staring after the woman as she made a speedy crossing of the room. “She could help Mrs. Pickett.”

Leanne bit into the crisp fried appetizer and almost moaned. Filled with cream cheese and spices, it contained chunks of genuine crabmeat. Her lids dropped as she took another bite. “This is delicious.”

Mark’s eyes darkened to a deep rich brown. “I can tell.”

“How? You haven’t had any yet.”

He shifted in his seat. “That’s okay. I’ll just watch you eat yours.”

Leanne set the last tidbit on her plate. She cleared her throat, feeling heat wash over her face. “I enjoy good food.”

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” His white teeth gleamed in his smile. Her heart stuttered.

He’s your nephew. The cold, mean voice in her head had her looking away. Remind him of your relationship, she thought. Remind yourself. “What was it like growing up a Collins?”

His smile disappeared. He glanced over her shoulder, but the little waitress didn’t come running with their entrees. “Normal, I guess.”

“I don’t know anything about your father, even though he’s my half-brother. Are you like him or more like Gloria?”

“My father, I guess. I was raised to head up Collins, so I’m more business-minded than my mother.”

Leanne hunched her shoulders. Again she felt the pangs of how unfair this competition was to Mark.

“Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable,” he said, “but it’s a fact.”

Her expression must have given away her thoughts. She’d have to watch that in the business world. If she had the chance to worry about it.

The waitress brought their food, and they portioned out their servings without talking. The red peppers in the Hunan chicken burned her throat and had her reaching for water.

“What will you do when I win?” she asked.

Mark drew back, blinked, and then laughed. “You mean after rushing my mother to the E.R.?”

Leanne smiled. “Gloria will have a fit.”

He shook his head. “Gloria will have a heart attack.” He raised his teacup. “Here’s to a fair fight.”

She raised her cup and extended it toward his.

“May the best man win,” he said.

Clink. The forward motion tapped her cup against his as his words registered.

“Hey!” She snatched back her hand.

Mark chuckled, and she couldn’t help joining him.

“You’re a sneak.”

“I’m a Collins.”

She absorbed that for a moment. The longer she didn’t respond, the worse the comment sounded. “Does that mean it won’t be a fair fight?”

“I meant it as a joke, Leanne. I won’t knowingly make the competition any more unfair than it already is.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why? What have you done?”

“You mean besides running the company since the Lion’s death? Or working there all my life? Getting all that insider knowledge you don’t have?” He tossed down a bite of Mongolian beef. “Not a thing.”

She winced. “Sorry. I don’t know you, but I do know big business. It can be cutthroat.”

Mark blew out his breath. “I tend to get upset when someone questions my integrity.”

After a moment his lips twitched. Her breath caught in her throat. She could picture them being friends. She’d lose that friendship as soon as the contest ended, no matter the outcome. She didn’t want to get close to him when it would end badly. Nevertheless, excitement shivered over her skin.

“I’ll remember that,” she said. “No cracks about your integrity. Wouldn’t want to break your heart.”

“Hey, just because I’m a Collins doesn’t mean I don’t have a heart. Must have gotten it from my real parents.”

Leanne froze. “Your what?”

Chapter Four

“My real parents,” Mark said, looking at her quizzically. “My biological ones, I mean. Gloria and Warren are my real parents, of course.”

She swallowed, unable to form words. Words? She could barely breathe. “You’re adopted?”

“I thought you knew.”

She shook her head, overwhelmed.

Mark shrugged. “It’s not a secret. My mother—Gloria, I mean—couldn’t conceive. Adoption was the only answer for her and my father. Warren.”

This time she nodded to show she understood. But while she followed his explanation, she didn’t understand at all. How could she have not known? Did her mom know?

We’re not related by blood? Possibilities rose to her mind. To tear herself away from images of she and Mark getting more intimately involved, she asked, “Is that why you call Gloria by her first name?”

“Kids call their parents whatever they’re taught to call them.” He took a bite of chicken.

Leanne stared at her plate but couldn’t imagine trying to swallow right then. Her throat knotted against the idea.

“When I asked about why I was brought up to call them by their first names,” he went on, “they said it never occurred to them to have me call them anything else. I tried calling them ‘Mother’ and ‘Father,’ but they seemed more comfortable being ‘Gloria’ and ‘Warren.’” He shrugged, as if it were no big deal.

Leanne nodded and stirred her tea before realizing she hadn’t added anything to stir. She set the spoon aside, hoping Mark hadn’t noticed. It’s okay that I find him attractive, she thought with relief. She glanced at him again. Attractive didn’t begin to express her opinion of his appearance.

His face hardened. “Don’t be thrown by this. I’m a Collins. Not by blood, maybe, but I’ve earned my way into this family.”

Perplexed and still reeling with the implications of his adoption on their possible future relationship, she said, “You don’t earn your way into a family.”

“You do if you’re not born into one.”

“That’s not how it works, Mark.”

He crossed his arms on the table and glowered at her. “How would you know anything about it? You’re not adopted.”

She stared at him, a disbelieving laugh caught on that knot in her throat. “You think being born with Lionel’s blood in me made me a Collins?”

He flushed.

“Go talk to your mother,” she said.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You know perfectly well. It’s no secret how she feels. How any of you feel about me. I’m thirty years old, Mark, and in that thirty years, not one member of the Collins family has ever contacted me.”

“I didn’t know about you.”

“But Gloria did. I’m betting your father—my half-brother—” she emphasized “—did. Lionel certainly knew about me. But other than sending checks, he couldn’t be bothered. I’m sure he had his secretary write them.”

“What checks?”

Leanne slumped back in her chair. She hadn’t meant to mention the money. “Lionel sent monthly checks. My mom sees them as a testament to his love for us.”

“Sees them? Are they still coming?”

She nodded. “Up till his death. I’ve banked them for my children. An inheritance. I thought about returning them, but why should I? Lionel was rich. My kids, at least, should benefit from that.”

She watched the fish swim futilely in their tank. Around they went, through the plastic grass, past the fake rock formations.

“How do you see them?”

Trapped.

“Leanne?”

She blinked and focused on Mark. “What?”

“How do you view the checks the Lion sent?”

“Oh.” Picking up her fork, she stirred through the Hunan chicken. “It’s conscience money, although alleging Lionel had scruples is a stretch for me. It’s payoff, but don’t tell my mother that.”

“Why not?” He speared a piece of beef.

Leanne tore her gaze from his lips as they closed around the fork. Not my nephew kept beating against her temples like tribal drums. Should she dance or circle the wagons? She ate something off her plate trying to appear in control. Unfortunately, she couldn’t fool herself. “Mom wouldn’t listen. She thinks he loved her.”

“Can I ask a question without you biting my head off?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a bit defensive, especially when it comes to your mother.”

“What about my mother?” Leanne heard her tone and had to laugh. “Yeah, I guess I am. Sorry. I just know how your family feels about her. It’s natural, and I understand it. I just don’t want her hurt by the Collins animosity.”

With precise movements, he set his fork by his plate and locked his gaze on hers.

She gulped.

“First of all,” he said, “I am not my family. I am a man who knew nothing of you or your mother.”

She nodded when he paused.

“Secondly, I didn’t experience ‘the Collins animosity’ nor do I feel it now that I know about you two. I’m not saying my family didn’t have hard feelings toward your mother. I’m just saying I never saw or heard about it.”

“Okay.” Leanne figured he must have been oblivious, not knowing the situation. He’d been young at the time of the affair, but she didn’t think the family just forgot about it. The way Gloria treated her now, as though she were spit on the sidewalk, Leanne knew there’d been more than “hard feelings.”

But she understood Mark’s meaning. She shouldn’t tar him with the same brush as the rest of the Collinses. She drew a breath, preparing for something unpleasant. Anything Mark hesitated over saying would no doubt get her back up. “So, what did you want to ask?”

“This is in the line of getting to know you, okay? Not an attack on your mom.”

Again she nodded. It must be bad.

“Was she involved with other men when you were little?”

Count to ten, she told herself. One, he warned you you wouldn’t like the question. Two, there was no nasty insinuation her mom went from man to man. Three—She popped her purse, located her wallet. Four, drew out a ten-dollar bill and tossed it on the table.

“Wait. What are you—?”

Five, stood, glared. Six, spun and stalked away, head high, not giving him a word.

At least she’d made it to two.

Mark snapped his mouth shut. If he’d kept it shut, he’d still be getting to know Leanne. Well, he’d found out one thing; she had a temper.

But, dammit, he’d told her he didn’t mean to insinuate anything by it before he posed the question. Growling under his breath, he got his wallet, found only a one and some twenties. He laid a twenty beside her ten and pushed back his chair. The waitress would no doubt be thrilled to get a forty-eight percent tip. Efficiency should be rewarded, but this was ridiculous.

Mark caught sight of the waitress scurrying toward him and quickened his step. She nearly vaulted over a table to stop in front of him.

Her ageless face had folded into creases. “Food no good? Sick?”

“The food was fine. We enjoyed it very much.”

Her face smoothed out. “Want box? Take home?”

“No, I’m sorry, we’re going to work. No way to keep it cold.” Except the refrigerator in his office’s bar. It would be good later, and he hadn’t finished.

Jeez, what was he thinking? He stepped around the small woman. “I have to catch her. We’re sharing a cab.”

“Come again.”

“Sure, sure.” As though he’d ever get another date with Leanne. Not that this had been a date.

When he opened the restaurant door, he caught the blur of her racing down the sidewalk. She stalked along with her head up, like a queen. Yeah, a drama queen. The impact of her high heels could have cracked divots out of the concrete. Keeping his stride at just under a run, Mark caught up with her. He thought to grasp her arm, to slow or stop her, but figured she’d roundhouse-punch him with the other fist. Law of averages made her right-handed, so he stepped to that side and kept pace. If he was going to get hit, he’d rather it be with her weaker arm.

Her clenched jaw and scowl warned him to tread carefully.

“I told you I didn’t mean anything by it,” he all but accused her. Crap, wrong tone. He tried again. “I’m sorry you were upset, but I wasn’t being nasty.”

“My mother never even dated,” she spat out, as though against her will. At least she was talking to him.

“I told you, I just wanted to know what your life was like growing up. Did you have a father figure or male role model or whatever the shrinks call it these days? It wasn’t a slam against your mom.” He chanced a touch to her elbow, keeping a weather eye on her fists.

Leanne halted in the middle of the sidewalk, perhaps unaware of the people pushing past them, muttering about inconsiderate so-and-sos. Mark ignored them, concentrating on her. Watching her as her breathing slowed, her lips relaxed, her eyes lost their fury.

After a few minutes had passed, Leanne sighed. “Okay, I’m sorry I bit your head off.”

He smiled as she echoed his earlier phrase.

“Mom never dated,” she repeated.

“Never? That’s incredible. I believe you,” he rushed on, seeing her eyes narrow. “It’s just she’s so…lively. That’s not the right word. Friendly?” He shook his head, gave it up. “What about after you were grown?”

“Not even then.”

“Why do you think she didn’t date?”

She shrugged. “It only dawned on me she didn’t when I started dating, but by then I was a teenager. I couldn’t ask something so personal.”

He grinned. “Because she might ask something personal in return?”

“There’s that, and because I didn’t want to hurt her.”

“Touché.” He dipped his head in salute for her dig at him. “How could you not notice she wasn’t dating?”

Leanne took a few steps before she answered. Slow, easy steps, thank God. Mark glanced at the street, saw no unengaged taxis, and gave a mental shrug.

“We had our own world,” she finally said, “complete with just the two of us. We did everything together. Pals, as well as mother and daughter.” She shrugged. “It didn’t seem like anything was missing.”

“Like a man?”

She nodded.

“Ready for another hard question?”

She rolled her eyes, a glint of humor shading her mouth. “You’re a risk-taker, and not just in business.”

He chuckled, relieved she’d put away her pointed hat and broom. “Did she not date because she loved the Lion or because she hated him? Because he’d treated her badly.”

“Oh, she loved him. Without doubt. Still does.”

“Even though he abandoned her when she became pregnant?”

“Even though he abandoned her when he got her pregnant, you mean?”

“Uh, right.”

“Mark, my mom knew he wouldn’t leave his family. We’ve had lots of talks about this. She knew she was second-place. But she loved him, and she’s sure he loved her, truly, deeply loved her.”

“What do you think?”

Leanne shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”

“Well…”

She looked over and with a half-laugh, she relaxed. “Okay, maybe I was around there at the end, but I didn’t know him. Did he seem to you like the kind of man to have an affair with someone he didn’t love?”

Mark stilled and blanked his expression. Crap. Why’d she have to ask that?

“Mark?”

“I think I see a taxi.” He sidestepped, hoping she’d think he just hadn’t heard her question. In line with his luck today, the taxis all had passengers, but he raised his arm, waved, and kept up the pretense.

“What?” When he remained silent, she asked again. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He glanced her way, then quickly back to the street.

“If we’re going to get to know one another,” she said, “we need total honesty.”

He lowered his arm and looked her in the eye. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself for her reaction. “My mother thinks the Lion had several affairs.”

Leanne felt her face drain of blood.

“I’m sorry,” Mark said in a gentle voice. “Gloria’s sure his relationship with your mother was the last. She’s positive there aren’t any other children.”

“I didn’t think of that. Other children.” Tears pricked, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She would not cry. She would not. Her mother would be devastated if she learned she’d been only one of many of Lionel’s conquests, not the love of his life.

Of course, her mother knew she’d shared his affection with his wife. She just didn’t know she’d shared with anyone else. Oh, God.

Leanne wanted to flee, but she’d already done that today. She couldn’t retreat, not in front of Mark. Feeling exposed, she put her hands over her face. “Give me a minute.”

She felt him take a half step back and just hoped he’d found some interesting architecture to study rather than her.

She drew a breath, trying to steady herself. Her mother viewed her relationship with Lionel through rosy clouds, making the liaison more romantic. Now it seemed sordid.

Several affairs. Did Mark think his assurance that there were no other bastards like her running around would make her feel better?

She’d never felt like a bastard before. She’d merely been illegitimate. All her life, she’d been told she was the result of an overwhelming love. She’d tried to believe it. Since her mother had loved Lionel, Leanne had thought of herself as conceived from that love, even if only one of her parents had felt it. Wanted, cherished, rejoiced in. Now she knew her mother had been used, and it left her feeling unclean as well.

She wiped tears from her eyes. Never again would she cry over Lionel Collins. Never again would she give anyone from that family the power to hurt her.

She squared her shoulders and met Mark’s concerned gaze.

“Sorry,” she forced out.

“Don’t be. I shouldn’t have told you.”

“The truth hurts.” She tried to smile, but felt it wobble on her lips. “I’m better off knowing.”

Mark just looked at her, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“I’m not usually so emotional. Our lunch today has been like riding on a roller coaster. Up and down.”

“At least there was an up.”

“Don’t forget the screaming.”

He smiled.

Leanne stepped to the curb, put her fingers in her mouth and blew a piercing whistle. She saw Mark’s mouth drop just as a cab pulled to her side.

“How the hell did you do that?” His tone held awe.

“I coached a girls’ soccer team for five years.” She got in the cab, grinning at his expression. They could have walked to the Collins Company, but she didn’t think her legs would carry her.

He slid in. “Do you have a daughter?”

She laughed. “No. There just aren’t enough coaches in the YMCA program. I told them if they had a rule book and a video, I’d take on a team.”