“I can keep a secret,” Owen told her. “But in case you’ve forgotten, we’d talked about holding it at Travis’s place.”
Mal’s heart dropped. She had forgotten. How could she have been so shortsighted? “Oh.” It was the only word she could get out through the sudden sinking feeling in her stomach. The charity event would not be the last scheduled time she’d see Travis. She’d still have to get through the anniversary party, an event designed to celebrate love and togetherness when she had just lost both.
“I think we should move it to Elephants.”
For her. It was the subtext of Owen’s statement. She looked into his sympathetic gaze. “We don’t need to change the location on my account. Travis and I are fine.” Or doing a darn fine imitation of it.
“Are you sure?” Owen’s dark eyes pinned her. “It’s not a problem to change locations. Now.” But it would be if they got much farther in the planning.
Mal pinned him back with a stare of her own. “Give me some credit. I’m not an infant.”
“No, but you’re upset. Understandably.”
She wanted to wave a hand, show that he was wrong and she wasn’t upset, or at least not so much that it affected her every action. But her arm remained glued to her side, incapable of the smallest jerk let alone a full wave. “It will be fine. I won’t bail on the party and I won’t even leave early.” Or no earlier than was appropriate. She wasn’t going to promise to stick around until the bitter end.
Owen nodded. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll probably be avoiding him, too.”
It didn’t, but she knew he was trying to be supportive. “Then we’ll get through it together.” She pasted on a smile, wishing she could paste her heart back together as easily. “I need to get ready for my meeting.”
“Mal.”
But she looked away, unable to stare at his sad, sympathetic face any longer. “I’m fine, Owen. Really.” Or she would be just as soon as he stopped talking about her failed relationship and left.
“Okay. If you need me, I’m right down the hall.”
She forced another smile and reminded herself that she could get through this. That she’d been the one to insist that Travis put the charity before himself, before themselves. She could do this.
And she truly believed that. Right up until Travis walked into her boardroom and smiled at her.
Mal managed to make it through the meeting without any major issues, but only because she didn’t ever meet Travis’s eyes. Instead, she looked slightly past him or at the people on either side of him. It did the trick. She was even feeling a little proud of herself when the meeting adjourned.
The charity event was well in hand and she was certain it would raise lots of money. At this point, the only major concern left to handle was media coverage and she had a call in to a friend at a local paper as well as other media outlets. The coverage was nearly as important as the event itself, encouraging people to donate after the fact.
The committee milled around for a few minutes, finishing the last sips of their coffee or bites of their muffins, chatting about the industry and life in general. Mal hovered around the edges, making polite conversation when required, always keeping one eye on Travis, who hadn’t yet left.
Why was he hanging around? Yes, she’d asked—okay, guilt-tripped—him into staying on the committee and helping with the charity event. But that didn’t mean he had to loiter, watching her whenever he thought she wasn’t looking.
Her pulse sped up when he headed her way. Mal turned, looking for something or someone to use as a shield. But the rest of the committee members had finally headed for the exit. And, aside from a few coffee cups, there wasn’t much in the way of protection.
“Hey.” His voice curled around her.
Mal forced herself to meet his eyes, tightening her muscles to keep from visibly shaking. “What can I do for you?” Maybe he simply had a question about the event and his role. She mentally crossed her fingers.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.” But sadness swept through her as she spoke the lie. She didn’t ask how he was, afraid of his answer. She didn’t know which response would be worse. That he was hurting or moving on.
“I wanted to tell you that I went to see my family. I told them.”
He’d told them? She raised an eyebrow, but was careful to keep anything else from showing. “I see.”
“About us, I mean.” He took a small step forward. She could smell the bright and woodsy scent of his cologne. Her muscles loosened a fraction. He smelled so good and it was so unfair. “About everything that happened.”
She felt like crying again, but finally, it seemed her tears had evaporated. She looked at him with dry eyes.
“You were right, you know, about telling them. I shouldn’t have hidden that. I think I was actually hiding from myself.”
“Were you?” She feigned politeness. “Good.”
Travis took another step forward. The rest of the committee had gone, leaving the two of them alone in the boardroom. But the size of the room didn’t feel nearly big enough. She had the sideboard filled with coffee paraphernalia behind her, the table to her left, a wall of windows to the right and Travis in front of her. Mal put a hand down on the table for balance.
He peered into her eyes. Mal wanted to shut them tight and click her heels while chanting about home. Maybe, like Dorothy, she could be whisked away by a tornado. But she couldn’t look away, couldn’t pull herself out. She could only look back at him. Searching for what, she didn’t know.
“Mal, I—”
“Is there something you need Travis? I have a busy day ahead of me and I should really get started.”
“No. I guess that was all I needed to say.” But he was still peering at her. As though looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked.
Travis remained standing in front of her, close enough to touch, for another moment. Then his shoulders dipped. She knew because she was looking right at them. As it turned out, they were almost as dangerous as his eyes. She had memories of those shoulders. Laying her head on them, curling her fingers into them, watching them flex and bunch as they heaved around furniture or suitcases, making the weight look minimal. But they weren’t hers to enjoy. Not anymore.
“I guess I’ll see you at the next meeting,” he offered.
“You will.” Mal indulged in one last look as he turned away from her, walking himself, his shoulders and his tattoos out of the boardroom. Out of her life. And only once the door closed behind him did she risk taking a breath.
The air still smelled like him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MAL MANAGED TO keep a reasonable distance from Travis right up until the night of the actual charity event. But now it was showtime. And despite her suggestion to the reporter that they should do their interview at Elephants, the woman had been more interested in filming at the new, not-yet-open-to-the-public bar owned by Travis. Apparently buzz for The Blue Mill was already strong.
Mal might have stood her ground, but when the reporter had offered live coverage on the six o’clock news, she’d known she couldn’t pass it up. What kind of hypocrite would she be, shaming Travis for missing a meeting and then turning around and insisting on having the interview anywhere but at his place?
Despite the fact that she had a zillion other little things to attend to besides prepping for the interview, her brain continued to focus on just one.
Seeing Travis Kincaid.
She fiddled with one of the glass candle holders that dotted the tables at Elephants and tried not to think about the fact that she would be on his turf. And he’d certainly be there. That, at exactly six-thirty, she’d be on site, on camera, smiling brightly as she talked about the event and tried to pretend that it didn’t bother her even a little bit to be in her ex’
s space, no doubt with him hovering nearby.
Mal swallowed and shifted another of the glass candle holders on the table so it was precisely centered. Or maybe Travis wouldn’t hover or hang around. Maybe he’d continue to give her the space she so desperately needed.
She wished she didn’t feel this way, wished she could brush off her feelings and fears and forge ahead, excited to tackle new situations and opportunities. She rolled her shoulders. Maybe after tonight, when she no longer had to deal with seeing Travis every week. When her schedule would return to normal and she could focus on other things, on non-Travis things. And maybe tonight would be easier than she expected.
It was a mantra she chanted on the drive over, while she chatted with the reporter, at the close of the interview and when she saw Travis in the center of his restaurant, looking like a tattooed god. But she could chant her mantra until the sun set and rose again, it didn’t make it true. Especially when a very pretty, very tall, very blonde woman appeared at Travis’s side and greeted him with a warm hug that he returned more enthusiastically than necessary.
And suddenly Mal couldn’t deal. She wished she felt numb. A lovely icy numbness could protect her from the knowledge that maybe he’d accepted her decision, moved on and was leaving her behind.
Mal snagged her purse from behind the bar where she’d placed it for the interview. Didn’t he know that she was supposed to move on first? He was supposed to pine over her and then graciously let her go when he saw that she was happy with someone else. He wasn’t supposed to find someone first.
She was halfway to the door when she heard her name. She considered ignoring it, acting as though the voice had gotten lost in the buzz of cheerful conversation, but it came again. Louder and considerably closer.
She stopped and turned, a practiced smile in place, fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of her bag. She wished she hadn’t stopped. Not only was Travis bearing down on her, but the attractive blonde was by his side. Mal drew in a shaky breath and reminded herself that she could do this. That she had to because turning and running was not an option.
“Travis.” At least her voice was clear. “Good to see you.” Polite banalities were always good. She tried not to notice how he filled out his suit. It wasn’t her business to notice that any longer.
“Mal.” His smile was warm, reaching all the way to the edges of his eyes. She drew in another breath. “You were great in the interview.”
She nodded and tried to maintain her decorum, tried not to glare at the blonde beside him. Tried not to notice that she looked very much like the woman Mal had found him with in Aruba. Maybe that was Travis’s type. Maybe he preferred them nearly Amazonian in stature and with hair that rivaled the brightness of the sun. And really, it was of no matter to her. Even if her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest.
Mal smiled at the woman and held out her hand. She could be mature and polite. She could pretend her spirit wasn’t being crushed by the fact that he’d chosen someone other than her. Again. “Hello. I’m Mallory Ford.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Sara Thompson.”
Mal studied her, while trying to hide the fact that she was checking her out. Her smile was bright. Good teeth. Gorgeous skin. Firm handshake.
“Sara is my real estate agent. She helped me buy this place.”
Some of the tension in Mal’s chest loosened. Maybe Sara was simply a friend who had come out in support of the event. Mal knew she’d sent out invites to all her business associates, too. Why would she expect Travis to do anything different?
“He makes it sound so professional. Like all I can talk about are property values and commission rates, which—” Sara’s blue eyes sparkled with good humor “—I am willing to negotiate on if you’re looking to enter the market.”
Mal faked a laugh that sounded sad even to her own ears. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She noticed the easy smile that passed between Sara and Travis and felt sick. She could manage polite for an introduction, but she wasn’t about to stand here and watch the two of them make googly eyes at each other. “Well, it was very nice to meet you.”
She swallowed the bile burning the back of her throat. She would not throw up. She would not embarrass herself by running out. And she would not reveal how much her insides felt as though someone had shredded them. “I should let you get back to your customers.”
“Can you stay for a drink?”
Mal noticed that Sara, for all her pleasantries, didn’t jump in to encourage that notion. Mal couldn’t blame her. She wouldn’t want the intrusion of another person on her date, either. Especially not an ex. Though she doubted Travis had told Sara about that little fact. Probably just said she was an old pal from his university days. “I appreciate the offer, but I need to get back to Elephants.”
She didn’t. Elephants practically ran itself these days, and if it needed any overseeing, Owen took care of it. But it made for a viable excuse.
“You sure?” Travis’s eyes bored into hers. Mal’s knees wobbled. He shouldn’t be looking at her like that. Not anymore and certainly not with another woman standing beside him. It wasn’t fair to anyone.
“I’m sure.” She forced a smile. “Nice to meet you, Sara.” Then she turned and left.
She was almost at the door, nearly within touching distance when she felt a hand on her arm. A warm, strong hand. And the scent of cedar and oranges. “Mal?”
She closed her eyes, an extended blink, and she prayed for control and a cool head as she spun around to find Travis behind her again. But this time he was alone. “Forget something?” She went for light but feared it came out a bit flat.
“I wanted to say thank you.” His hand was still on her arm, and she was still enjoying it far more than was suitable. She should not appreciate his touch let alone crave it. “For coming here tonight.”
Mal shifted her purse, which dislodged his hand. “It was for a good cause. The charity.”
“You could have insisted the interview be held somewhere else. I appreciate that you didn’t.”
Her throat tightened. It sounded like farewell—a fond farewell, but a farewell all the same. She tried to hang on to the knowledge that this was her choice, what she wanted.
“Right. So...” So she just wanted to go. Why had he followed her and insisted on this little tête-à-tête? Hadn’t they done enough tête-ing? A flicker of movement caught her eye. Okay, a flicker of a very pretty blonde woman moving caught her eye. Sara laughing at the bar, her hair rippling under the lights.
Mal’s hands fisted more tightly around the handle of her bag. And just what was up with that, anyway? Shouldn’t Travis be hanging out with his new girlfriend instead of bothering her? And wasn’t it rude to be throwing this new relationship in her face anyway?
There was moving on, and then there was trying to make her feel bad. And this definitely fell into the latter category. As though he couldn’t wait to show her just how okay he was with everything. Well, fine. She was fine too.
Mal lifted her chin. “I want the earrings back.” Okay, maybe fine was pushing it.
His brow furrowed. “You want the earrings back?” He sounded as confused as he looked, which made her feel embarrassed. Nothing to do but brazen it out.
“Yes.” She raised her chin another notch. “Your grandma left them to me and I’ve decided I’d like them back. She’d have wanted that.” Mildred certainly wouldn’t have wanted to see them on the lobes of some woman she didn’t know. Even if that woman was very blonde, very pretty and very personable. Just what was Sara saying to make the bartender and everyone else within a foot of her laugh so hard?
“All right.”
Mal’s attention snapped back to Travis. A whip of longing followed. She stamped it out. It was okay to feel sorrow about the breakup and it was okay to experience moments of discontent. It was not ok
ay to let them take root. “Good.” She probably sounded petulant, but then she felt a little petulant.
Travis looked surprised. Okay, so maybe dial back the petulance a tad. “I’ll have to get them out of the safe.”
“Okay.” She stood, waiting.
“At the hotel.” Owen had mentioned that Travis had vacated his place and moved into a hotel.
“Right.” Because of course he wouldn’t have them here. “That’ll be fine.” There was that word again. As though it was following her, taunting her by pointing out that she was not fine. “I should go.”
And she wasn’t waiting around to see what he might or might not say, might or might not do. She just spun on her heel, pulled the door open and walked into the warm evening.
* * *
TRAVIS WATCHED THE door swing shut behind Mal and frowned. He’d hoped she might stay for a few minutes, hoped they might grab a couple of moments of privacy and talk. But she’d beetled out of here at the speed of light. And now he was left alone, with words he wanted to say and no one to say them to.
The door pushed open and Travis stepped out of the way as a group of three wandered in. Their tight jeans and thin mustaches marked them as hipsters, their pricey watches and expensive shoes marked them as spenders. Travis smiled as he watched them wander to the bar and proceed to order top-shelf drinks, those made with the most expensive and exclusive alcohol. They were definitely the clientele he was looking for.
He should be feeling happy and proud. But as he walked the floor of the bar, he felt more as though he was pacing. A jungle cat trapped in a cage of his own making. And the fact that the place was packed and everyone seemed to be having a great time didn’t help.
He’d liked having Mal here, seeing her face as she looked over the place, her eyes lovingly grazing each surface, the way she stroked the bar when she walked over to ask if she could store her purse there during the interview. He’d wanted to go to her then, just to talk, to see her up close and wish her good luck, but he’d feared upsetting her before she went on camera. So he’d bided his time, knowing that this was an important night for her. He certainly wasn’t going to ruin it for his own selfish needs.
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