see something you like?”
Ginny almost spit out her sip of margarita. This was the last thing she needed. It didn’t matter that Harlow was only teasing. “Oh, please,” she said and looked at Cricket. “How did you manage to get a room here at the last minute? I thought they were booked.”
“They had a suite left.”
Harlow snorted. “You must be making big bucks.”
“I’m doing okay,” Cricket said, shrugging. “Not that I’m thrilled about paying that much for a suite.”
“Hey, you were always the smartest person in the class, so good for you,” Harlow said, raising her glass. “You deserve your success.”
Ginny raised her glass as well, and while Harlow cajoled Cricket into participating, Ginny stole a look at the bar.
There he was, standing at the end of the sleekly polished mahogany bar, drinking a beer. It seemed he might be looking back at her, but she couldn’t tell for sure. Not when he was still wearing those darn sunglasses.
One thing for certain, he wasn’t lacking for attention. A woman sitting on a barstool next to him was about to make her move when a blonde squeezed in between them.
He stepped aside, giving her a tight smile, along with plenty of space.
Ginny didn’t know why that made her so happy.
Her elation evaporated the second she finally realized why the mystery man seemed familiar. If she had any sense at all, she’d be running in the other direction.
* * *
PARKER WATCHED HER from behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, wondering if she’d recognized him. It wasn’t so much the fifteen years that had passed. He simply wasn’t the same clean-cut, idealistic college student who’d wanted to fight for justice. To work in concert with his dad—his idol—and others like him, to rid the world of evil.
Good plan, until Parker had discovered it was all a load of crap.
She looked the same, had barely aged. Her dark blond hair was a few inches shorter and now skimmed her shoulders.
And that smile of hers. No woman had a better smile than Ginny Landry. Assuming that was still her last name. He didn’t see a ring on her finger, but that meant nothing these days. And with her level of talent, it was likely she was more focused on her career than a husband. Parker didn’t recognize either of the two women sitting with her. They could be friends of Meg’s as well, but he’d only met Ginny. Although it wasn’t until after his sister had disappeared that he’d gotten to know her.
“Excuse me.”
He turned to the blonde, who’d crowded him. She was the same woman he’d passed earlier, although he didn’t remember the excessive perfume that was beginning to make his eyes burn.
“I practically ran you over,” she said. “Let me at least buy you a drink.”
“No thanks.”
“Oh, come on.” She tilted her head, a seductive smile lifting her too-pink lips. “Just one?”
Parker shook his head. What was it with these prep school women? Curious to take a walk on the wild side? He tipped the beer bottle to his mouth, then went back to studying Ginny. She was looking right at him. Before he could give her a nod, she turned away.
He suppressed a smile, wondering if she’d covered up the faint sprinkling of freckles across her nose. She’d never bothered to before, even though he knew she hated them. It was kind of crazy how much he’d learned about her in those few days after Meg had gone missing. He remembered thinking how odd it was that the two had become friends. Talk about opposites.
Meg was always looking for action and, yeah, a fair amount of trouble...an obvious cry for attention, he’d realized much later. His sister had idolized their dad every bit as much as Parker had, misguided as that had proved to be. It had been his first real lesson about trust and its dangers. Hadn’t been his last.
Ginny had been like a beacon of light, trying to keep Meg from taking that final step into the darkness. In the end, it hadn’t worked. The thing about Ginny, she might look like the carefree girl next door, but she’d never had the perfect family life either. With no mother in the picture, Ginny had been raised by a nanny. Her workaholic father had been largely absent throughout her childhood. At least Parker and Meg had had their mom to rely on. She’d been there for them through a lot of rough patches. Fielding their endless questions, for which she either had no answers or wasn’t at liberty to divulge her knowledge.
Now, knowing what he did, Parker was confident his mother had been kept in the dark about her husband’s whereabouts, and what he’d been doing for most of their marriage. And to be fair, the secrecy had been for their own protection.
Dammit, Meg shouldn’t have punished her by running away. To some degree their mom had been a victim too. She wasn’t a stupid or naive person. Parker guessed that she’d fully understood the man she’d married, but no one could’ve predicted his other life would end up consuming him.
Parker set his empty bottle down, then dug out some money and laid it on the bar. By the time he looked back, Ginny was gone.
GINNY SLIPPED INTO the ladies’ room and splashed cold water on her face, trying to bring herself out of shock.
What was Parker doing here? Now—after all these years without a word, not knowing if he was dead or alive or living on the moon—he just shows up? She knew it must have to do with Meg. If the family had lost contact with her, just as Ginny had, Parker was probably hoping his sister would be at the reunion. Ginny knew his being here had nothing to do with her. And why that should hurt in the slightest was absurd. She wasn’t a starry-eyed kid anymore.
After Meg had gone missing, they’d found comfort in each other’s arms. That first time, Parker hadn’t even known Ginny was a virgin. He’d felt terrible, had come right out and told her that giving herself should have been something special...with someone she cared about and who cared for her.
Oh, how those words, spoken with heartfelt concern, had cut deep into her soul. Thankfully, she’d had the good sense not to admit that she’d fallen for him months before the night they’d made love. At eighteen, she’d known woefully little about the world beyond her narrow life, and even less about men.
Sadly, at thirty-two, she wasn’t much more enlightened. Being a young single mom who worked at home, Ginny had barely made it around the block. Tilda had kept her—
Tilda.
Ginny gripped the counter for support.
Parker couldn’t know about her. Even if he’d somehow stumbled onto Ginny’s Facebook page, he wouldn’t have seen anything incriminating. She’d been so careful about the meager information she’d posted over the years, including any pictures that would pinpoint Tilda’s age.
Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Ginny sighed. Luckily her mascara hadn’t smudged, but she looked pale. Before the girls started
