hadn’t been an empty table during the midday rush, the restaurant was now mostly empty and Molly poured herself a cup of decaf and took a seat at the bar. There was a table with three men in suits who were finishing up a business meeting along with their lunches, another at which was seated a couple of older women who seemed more interested in conversation than their meals, and at a booth in the back, a young couple lingering over coffee.
Molly was proud that her business appealed to such an eclectic group, and pleased that the additional funds she’d spent on advertising over the past twelve months was proving to be a good investment. Shea’s had once been “the little roadside bar just past the sharp curve in the highway,” now it was “that fabulous little restaurant just past the sharp curve in the highway.”
She hadn’t taken the first sip of her coffee when her brother-in-law came in.
“If you’re looking for your wife, she just left.”
“I’m not,” Jason said, then walked behind the bar, poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down beside her.
It was the first time she’d seen him in the restaurant since he and Abbey separated a few months earlier, and she was as curious as she was wary about his reasons for being here now. Because he, too, didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with dumping his problems in Molly’s lap, despite having dumped her to marry her sister.
“I have a business proposition to discuss with you.”
Now she was really curious, but she just sipped her decaf and waited for him to explain.
Instead of speaking, he set a cashier’s check beside her cup.
Her eyes popped open wide as she took in the numbers.
“Where did you get that kind of cash?”
“My severance package from Raycroft Industries.”
She’d read about the proposed merger of the local manufacturing plant with a multinational corporation several months earlier and had wondered how it might affect her brother-in-law, who had worked there for the past half-dozen years.
“I’d like to buy into a partnership,” he said.
For the amount of the check he was offering, he could buy the whole restaurant, and Molly was almost tempted to let him do so. She’d certainly feel more comfortable selling out than going into partnership with a man who had betrayed her once already. “Why?” she asked instead.
“I have managerial experience and I think I’d enjoy working here—and working with Abbey might give both of us something to focus on other than the baby she wants so badly and can’t have.”
Which led Molly to suspect that Abbey had decided she’d rather own the restaurant than simply work in it—and, like everything else she’d ever wanted, there was a man willing to give it to her.
“Is this what Abbey wants?” she asked him.
“If she had her way, we’d spend the whole amount on fertility treatments. But I think she could be convinced to agree to this.”
Molly felt an instinctive tug of sympathy for what her sister and brother-in-law had been through, and a twinge of guilt that what they’d struggled for so desperately had happened so easily for her. And then a surge of annoyance at letting herself experience even that momentary twinge when it was Abbey and Jason together who had destroyed her own dreams.
“Have you really thought about this, or is it an impulse?”
“You know I don’t do anything on impulse,” Jason said.
“Weddings in Las Vegas aside?”
“It was one wedding, and it was because Abbey and I didn’t know how to tell you that we’d fallen in love.”
Molly sighed, because she knew it was true and because—nine years later—she was over it, or at least she felt that she should be. Was it the depth of the hurt that made her heart still ache? Or was it something lacking inside herself that made her unable to truly forgive their betrayal?
In either case, she knew it was time she got over her resentment and got on with her life, and maybe Jason was offering her the chance to finally do just that.
“Speaking of weddings,” she said, “I’m going to Tesoro del Mar for Fiona and Scott’s.”
Although Abbey was the bride’s cousin, too, she’d never been as close to Fiona as Molly was. And Fiona had never forgiven her for stealing Molly’s fiancé, holding so tightly to her grudge against Abbey that she hadn’t even wanted to invite her youngest cousin to the wedding. It was their grandmother who had insisted that she do the right thing, and while Abbey and Jason would be invited to attend the rescheduled reception in a few months, Fiona refused to extend the close circle who had been invited to the island ceremony to include them.
“I was going to ask Karen and Sam to cover my night shifts,” Molly continued, “but if you wanted to take them instead, it would give you a chance to see if this is what you really want, before making a final decision.”
He reached for her hand as she pushed her stool back. “Thanks, Molly. I know you don’t owe me anything, but I appreciate this opportunity.”
“Don’t screw it up.”
“I won’t,” he promised.
When Eric walked into Shea’s, he saw Molly holding hands with another man and felt the churn of dark and unfamiliar emotions in his belly. He had no claim to her. One night of sex, no matter how spectacular, gave him no proprietary right, but that knowledge didn’t negate the fact that when he’d seen the other man reach for her, he’d felt his own hands curl into fists and heard only one thought in his mind—mine.
She was on her way to the door when she saw him a minute later. She smiled easily, as if she hadn’t just been cozied up with some other guy.
“You’re a little late for lunch today, aren’t you?” she asked him.
“I had lunch with Fiona and Scott today,” he told her, responding in a similarly casual tone.
“And you’re early for dinner,” she prompted.
He managed to smile. “I actually came to see you, if you’ve got a few minutes.”
“Can we take those minutes upstairs? I’ve been here since eight and I want a change of scenery and popcorn.” She started up to her apartment without waiting to see if he agreed.
He followed.
She unlocked the door, kicked off her shoes and moved into the kitchen. Snagging a box of Orville Redenbacher’s from the cupboard, she unwrapped the cellophane from a package and pressed a couple of buttons on the microwave.
He frowned, remembering what she’d said about having been at the restaurant since eight. “That isn’t your lunch, is it?”
“Not really. I snacked on some cheese balls and potato skins in the kitchen, but I was suddenly craving
