A &E Affairs. Lynne Marshall

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hands twined into a ball on the table. Why in the world had she consented to meet him?

      “So what’s it going to be, a short stack?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his gaze soon after the waitress had left the table.

      Why did she allow herself to look into his eyes? There was no trace left of the determined boy she’d once loved. He was all man, confident and proud. She, on the other hand, had all of a sudden reverted to the shy and uncertain tenth-grader on their first date. No. She couldn’t think of this as a date. It was strictly a get-together to touch base and “check in” with an old friend after a long absence.

      “A short stack sounds good,” she said.

      “That’s more like it.”

      “The pancakes?”

      “The blouse. It looks more like the girl I remember. All bright colors and attitude.”

      Her cheeks warmed and she reached for the glass of ice water. That girl had been missing since her pregnancy. “I wasn’t nearly as flashy as you paint me.”

      “You were flashy, January. Trust me.” He gave a knowing grin, approval written all over his face. “That’s part of what I dug about you.”

      She shook her head, a hot blush rising from her neck. Flashy or not, she had trusted him, with all of her heart, but look where that had gotten her.

      “Level with me—whatever happened to the modeling career?” he continued.

      Did he have to remember everything? “That was my mother’s idea,” she bluffed, and hoped he didn’t catch on.

      “I’ll say. She went out of her way to send you to some special school during your senior year. Isn’t that what you said when you finally called me? Why didn’t you pursue it?”

      The “school” had all been part of the story her mother had helped her fabricate to avoid telling her friends, and especially Beck, that she’d been pregnant. “Truth was, the modeling was my mother’s dream, not mine. She was a teenage mother and single parent. She felt her dreams got stomped on before they ever hatched. We actually don’t talk much any more now that she’s married.”

      “She got married?”

      Jan nodded. “Some guy from Vegas. I see her maybe twice a year.” If he wanted to put her on the spot, she could do a little delving, too. “So, tell me, Beck, why haven’t you married and settled down?”

      One brow subtly lifted. “OK, let’s change the subject.” He stretched his shoulders and reached for his ice water. “Police work has one of the highest divorce rates of any job. I’ve been obligated to the National Guard for the last ten years, and if I want to collect a decent pension from them someday I’ll have to sign on for another ten. But the truth is I’m lousy at relationships.” He looked sheepishly at her. “I guess you already know that.” He gave a distracted smile as the waitress arrived with their coffee. “She’ll need cream,” he directed, without conferring with Jan.

      He hadn’t forgotten a thing. His voice had grown deeper over the years and the low resonant sound admittedly soothed her jittery nerves. Everything had already happened between them, and as long as she kept the big secret, things couldn’t possibly get any worse. Why not relax and enjoy the company of the handsome man sitting across the table?

      After she’d ordered pancakes, Jan sipped her coffee and gazed at Beck, who was charming the middle-aged waitress with his soulful eyes and slow drawl. Time spent in the military in the southern U.S. had affected his speech more than he probably realized. The effect was a deadly combination of boyish charisma and in-your-face sex appeal. She disguised a sigh as a mini-yawn and forced her gaze toward the tall fake plant in the corner, doing anything to keep from succumbing to his natural appeal.

      After the waitress left, he placed his palms flat on the table and asked, “Since you brought the subject up, why didn’t you stay married?”

      Jan tossed Beck a puzzled glance. “How do you know about my marriage?”

      She didn’t dare tell him the truth—that she’d married an older man for companionship and that she had never really loved him as a wife should, and when he’d pressed her about having children, she hadn’t been able to go through with it. She wouldn’t admit to Beck how her heart had turned to stone in order to survive the day she’d lost him.

      “Uh, I guess I just assumed it since your name badge says Ashworth instead of Stewart.”

      “Oh. Right. Well, it was a big mistake. We worked together at another hospital and were great friends and we thought we could make a go of it, so we got married five years ago. Let’s just say, after a year we divorced amicably…” They’d filed with irreconcilable differences: he’d loved her but she couldn’t love him. Thanks to no-fault divorces in California, the process had been civilized and unemotional. At least for her. The divorce was more proof that she was meant to be alone.

      “Sounds as if we’re more alike than we thought.” He held her gaze. “No kids?”

      Her eyes darted from his face to her folded hands. Did he know about Meghan or was he asking about her ex-husband? How could she be a parent to another child after abandoning the first? Her insecurities and guilt had made it impossible for their marriage to survive.

      A wave of panic soured the coffee she’d just swallowed. She couldn’t tell whether he knew anything or not. “No. We didn’t have kids.” She avoided Beck’s eyes, opting instead to clarify the situation with her ex-husband and sidestep the topic that struck horror in her heart.

      She’d lied and given up a baby that Beck had a right to know about. But her mother had threatened to press statutory rape charges against him if Jan didn’t do exactly what she’d said. She had only been sixteen at the time she’d become pregnant and seventeen when she delivered, and Karen had had specific plans on how to handle the situation. Looking back, Jan realized she’d had no choice other than refusing to “get rid of it”, but to this day she wished things could have been handled differently.

      Things grew quiet, on the verge of awkward, when the waitress saved the day by arriving with their breakfast. They both dug in.

      After a few minutes Beck broke the silence. “What do you think’s going on with that pregnant teenage girl having seizures?”

      “I don’t have a clue, but I intend to ask Gavin to keep me in the loop.”

      “My theory is…” he wiped a bit of syrup from the corner of his mouth and swallowed before continuing “…the boyfriend gave her an ultimatum when he found out she was pregnant. Get rid of it or lose me. Maybe she couldn’t go through with what he suggested.”

      She stopped in mid-bite and stared at him. Was there a hidden message in his words, or was he merely talking about the recent ER case? She wanted to ask him what his real point was, but wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer, so she swallowed the pancakes and reached for her coffee. “Don’t know if we’ll ever find out all of that information, but it’s a possibility.” Keep things superficial. Nonchalant. Why were her hands trembling? “Maybe she just found out she was pregnant and hoped he’d ask her to marry him?” Oops. There she went, referring to herself again. “But who can say? It’s a different world out there these days.”

      “Tell me about it. One of our probationers recently

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