by Renee Ryan
“Last night.”
Her brow wrinkled in confusion.
“At the hotel,” he explained. “She’d taken the night shift.”
“She never works the night shift.”
Garrett lifted a shoulder. “She claimed she wanted the distraction.”
“Now that makes sense.”
They fell silent.
“Thank you, Molly.”
She angled her head at him. “For what?”
“For explaining Fanny’s point of view so succinctly last night.” He took her other hand and pulled her closer. “I was able to have an honest conversation with her, and I think it might have helped.”
“Oh, Garrett.” Molly’s fingers braided themselves through his. “That’s really good news. Whatever happens next, she needs to know her family will stand by her.”
“I’m only one Mitchell,” he pointed out.
“The rest will come around. You’ll make sure of it.”
Her confidence in him did strange things to his insides. His gut churned with unexpected longing, and an unexpected emotion: hope.
“You don’t have to continue holding on to me when no one else is around.” She tugged her hands free. “Our agreement doesn’t require us to act as though we’re falling in love when we’re alone.”
“Right.” He’d have to think about that some more, when his head was clearer. Didn’t seem right, somehow, not touching her. And if it didn’t seem right that meant there was a flaw in the logic. A flaw in the logic meant a loophole somewhere.
Garrett always found the loophole.
In the meantime, he directed Molly down the hall once again.
In thoughtful silence, she studied the portraits of mature, stodgy-looking men lining both walls. Most of the likenesses belonged to lawyers with the last name Bennett.
The final portrait on the right stood out from the rest primarily because of the youthful features. With his black hair, dark, serious eyes and stern expression, Reese Bennett, Jr. looked overly determined, as if he wouldn’t rest until the job was done to his satisfaction.
The artist had captured Reese’s essence seamlessly. Garrett would have enjoyed welcoming the man into the family.
A few more steps and he knocked on his boss’s door.
“Enter,” came the reply from within.
Wanting to announce her properly, Garrett stepped in the room ahead of Molly.
Reese looked up from his desk. His eyes appeared even more tired than they’d been this morning. In fact, dark shadows had taken up residence beneath his lower lashes.
“You need me for something?”
“Mrs. Singletary’s companion is here to see you.”
Reese stood. “Send her in.”
Garrett waved Molly into the room.
“Miss Scott.” Reese moved out from around his desk and approached her. “What a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting you this morning.”
“I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Not at all.” Reese’s eyes lit with genuine pleasure. “You are always welcome in this office.”
“I’m glad, but I won’t keep you long. I’ve brought you these.” She handed over the satchel. “Mrs. Singletary told me to deliver them to you personally.”
“And now you have.” Reese finally smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to your work.” She turned to go.
“Miss Scott?”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“How is…” He shook his head, as if he were at a complete loss for words. A rarity for the always controlled attorney. “That is…I wanted to know if Fanny is…never mind.” He drew in a ragged breath. “Have a good day, Miss Scott.”
Molly lingered a moment longer, turning to face Reese directly instead of taking her leave. She released a sigh. “Mr. Bennett, you should know, Fanny never meant to hurt you.”
“I never doubted that for a moment.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I wouldn’t want to think she’s suffering. If you see her before I do, Miss Scott, would you let her know I’m worried about her?”
“Consider it done.”
“Thank you.” Reese swept his gaze over to Garrett. “Did you need anything else?”
“Not at the moment. I’ll see Molly out.”
Leveling his shoulders, Reese nodded. “Very good.”
Garrett escorted Molly into the hallway and shut the door behind them with a soft click.
“He’s sad,” she said simply.
“I caught that.”
She continued staring at the shut door, pondering the wood with thoughtful consideration. “But not heartbroken.”
How could she know that? Garrett wondered.
“No,” she said, confirming her assessment with a firm nod of her head. “Definitely not heartbroken.”
Garrett felt his eyebrows travel to his hairline. “He seemed upset to me.”
“Oh, his pride is hurt.” Her gaze stayed glued to the door. “He’s also embarrassed, baffled and definitely concerned for Fanny’s welfare. But his heart is still fully intact.”
Again, Garrett wondered at her confidence. “How can you know that for certain?”
“I—” she lowered her gaze “—just…know.”
* * *
Molly could feel Garrett’s eyes on her. The rational thing to do would be to continue down the hall, out the door and straight into Mrs. Singletary’s waiting carriage.
Unfortunately, when it came to Garrett Mitchell, Molly rarely did the rational thing.
“Stop it,” she said to him.
“Stop what?”
“You’re thinking so loud it’s hurting my ears.”
He chuckled.
Oh, he thought this was amusing? She turned to face him, caught his smile and went instantly on the offense. “Want me to tell you what you’re thinking?”
His smile disappeared. “Not particularly, no.”
She advanced on him, just a step, enough to make her point.
From the way his mouth thinned, she knew she’d succeeded.
“We used to be able to read one another’s minds,” she said.
“I remember.”
She advanced another step.
His lips twisted at a wry angle, but he held his ground.
Stubborn man. She’d always liked that about him.
“You’re thinking—” she tapped a fingertip to his chin “—that it’s a shame Fanny and Reese won’t be getting back together.”
“Not even remotely close.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “Of course, you already know that, don’t you?”
Oh, she knew he wasn’t thinking about his sister. Or Reese. Or the work he still had to complete before his meeting this afternoon with Mrs. Singletary.
No, Garrett was thinking about her, wondering if Molly had broken her fiances’ hearts and that’s how she knew Reese had escaped a similar fate.
“The answer to your question is no.”
He quirked an eyebrow.
“No,” she repeated, fighting off a sudden wave of humiliation. Why was she telling him this? Why this compulsion to share her secret?
Because this was Garrett.
“My former fiances were not heartbroken after they broke off—” She stopped herself, realizing her mistake a shade too late. “I mean, after I broke off our engagements.”
For a long, tense moment, he went utterly still, his eyes locked with hers. “You just said they. Molly, did you end your engagements? Or did they?”
Oh, boy. Was it time? she thought. Time to give up the charade? Time to face up to the fact that she’d allowed the people closest to her—including Garrett—to believe a lie?
“Tell me the truth.”
“I…that is, we…”
“Wait. Let’s talk in my office where we won’t be disturbed.” He tugged her into the room and closed the door behind them.
Alone. They were completely, utterly, irrefutably alone. The smells of
parchment and ink and something purely male wafted on the air, driving home the point that it was just the two of them, not a single other person to see—or hear—them.
There were a lot of ways the next few minutes could go, all of them troublesome. Especially since Garrett looked decidedly grim as he hovered over her, his gaze dark and unwavering. They hadn’t had this much uninterrupted eye contact since he’d left for school seven years ago.
Making a sound deep in his throat, he leaned forward, his handsome face full of intensity and resolve.
Glory. That was one determined man looking at her.
She hated not knowing what was going on inside his head, hated wondering if this was the end of her carefully constructed charade.
“We’re going to do something we’ve put off for far too long.” His voice came out grave. “No more stalling, no more avoiding the inevitable.”
He looked so serious.
“It’s time we had a good, long…”
Her heart skipped a beat.
“…talk.”
And another.
“When I say talk, Molly…” He pushed slightly away from her. “I mean I want you to tell me about your engagements.”
“We really don’t have to do this now.”
“Yes, we do.”
Oh, please, Lord. Anything but this. Anytime but now.
She couldn’t bear the thought of expressing her hidden shame out loud. Not to Garrett.
Anyone but him.
Smiling tenderly, as if understanding her trepidation better than she did herself, he reached up and smoothed a stray strand of hair off her forehead. “No judgment, Molly, no condemnation. I want the truth. I need the truth.”
She watched him slide the lawyer in place and shivered in dread. “Oh, Garrett, please don’t ask this of me.”
“Do you think it’ll be easy for me to hear about you and those other men?”
“I…I don’t know. Will it?”
“Not in the slightest. But it’s long past time we stopped avoiding one another and settled this like two grown, mature adults.” He spoke in a tone that denoted friendship first, always, forever. “That’s it. I’m setting variable number four, right now.”
“You…what? I don’t understand.”
“Our pretend courtship,” he reminded her. “We haven’t come up with the final parameter.”
When she simply blinked at him, he placed his hand on her shoulder. “Your formulas always have four variables. We’ve only agreed to three.”
How could she have forgotten something so crucial?
“Variable number four,” he said with none of the playfulness of the night before. “We talk honestly about the past, no matter how much it hurts. We hold nothing back, no hedging, no glossing over important details.”
She said nothing. She couldn’t. He’d left her speechless.
“And once we’ve cleared up any misunderstanding between us, we’ll never speak of the past again. Agreed?”
“I…” He was right. They needed to have this conversation. But did they have to discuss this now? She needed time to prepare.
“Molly? You with me on this?”
She released a shuddering sigh. “Yes.”
“Good, but we aren’t going to have this conversation here.” He reached around her and twisted open the door.
“We aren’t?” Dare she hope for a reprieve?
“You shouldn’t be shut in a room with me longer than a few minutes at a time, not without the benefit of a chaperone.”
“You’re worried about my reputation?”
“I am.”
How…sweet.
And completely unnecessary. For all intents and purposes, she had no reputation worth protecting. She was the daughter of a prostitute-turned-madam. She’d been raised by a sister many still believed to be her natural mother. People who knew the truth about her parentage also knew her real father had been a down-on-his-luck miner who’d squandered his life savings on a gold rush that had come to naught.
Even without all those strikes against her, she had two broken engagements behind her. “My reputation isn’t my greatest concern.”
“It’s important to me.”
And wasn’t that just like Garrett? A gentleman to his very core.
He ushered her back into the hallway. “What are your plans for the rest of the morning?”
Hope for that reprieve returned. “I’m supposed to purchase additional ribbon for Mrs. Singletary’s new hats.”
“Exciting.” His tone said otherwise. Molly fought back a smile. Garrett disliked shopping almost as much as the opera.
“Mrs. Singletary is expecting me to go straight home afterward.”
He didn’t respond right away as he guided her through the reception area and out onto the sidewalk. The cold air whipped across her face, chaffing at her cheeks. She huddled deeper in her coat.
The busy street bustled with activity. The shout of vendors’ cries joined with the high-pitched voice of a mother telling her brood to settle down as they crossed the street.
Garrett took her arm and led her toward the waiting carriage. “Have an early lunch with me before you proceed to the millinery shop.”
She balked. She’d really rather not… “Mrs. Singletary will be wondering where I am.”
“Once he’s dropped us off, I’ll send the carriage driver to tell her where we are.” He grinned. “She’ll understand why you’re late when she finds out who you’re dining with.”
He had a point. “She’ll think it a great coup,” Molly admitted reluctantly.
“Superior line of thinking. Now, up you go.” He handed her into the carriage before heading over to speak to the driver, presumably to explain the change in plans.
Moments later, the carriage dipped under Garrett’s added weight as he joined her inside and settled in the opposite seat facing her. Seemingly lost in his own thoughts, Molly took the opportunity to gather hers.
Barely five minutes into the process and the carriage drew to a stop once again.
“We’re here.”
She pushed aside the green velvet curtain and peered out the window. “Where, exactly, is here?”
“The Brown Palace.” Garrett exited the carriage first, then helped her onto the sidewalk. “We might as well enjoy the best food in town while we have our conversation.”
“You sure you don’t want to change your mind about this?”
“I’m sure.”
“It was worth a try,” she muttered.
He cracked a smile. “Valiant effort, indeed.” He waved her forward. “After you.”
Sighing, Molly braced herself for the interrogation…er, the discussion that lay ahead. As soon as they entered the main dining room they were escorted to a table with the kind of deference reserved for favored customers.
Apparently, Garrett dined at The Brown Palace regularly. Did he bring his clients here for lunch?
Other young ladies?
She plopped into her chair without her usual grace.
Lifting an eyebrow, he picked up a menu. “Any idea what you want to eat?”
“You seem to be familiar with this restaurant.” She paused, smoothed out her tone, continued, “Why don’t you order for us both?”
“All right.” While Garrett told the waiter they’d each have the chicken and dumplings, Molly looked around.
Rivaled only by the Hotel Dupree, The Brown Palace was considered the height of fashion, the dining room no exception. Bone china graced every table. Engraved silverware was spread out at her fingertips. Even the finely dressed patrons added to the rich, expensive air.
Finished with her inspection, she waited for the waiter to disappear then swung her gaze back to Garrett. He was watching her intently, staring actually. Now that they were alone, he took her hand and twined their fingers together.
There was a look of tenderness in his gaze that made her slightly uneasy. How dare he look at her with all that affection, as if she mattered to
him, as if it had been difficult for him to walk away from her?
A second time today, she went on the offense.
And cut straight to the heart of their rift. “You weren’t much of a letter writer.”
Seemingly indifferent to her accusatory tone, he lifted a shoulder. “Who is at seventeen?”
At least he wasn’t pretending to misunderstand her meaning. “You managed to write your parents.”
“I wrote my mother, actually, and I seem to remember sending one letter to her ten.”
In his defense, that sounded like a boy at that age. Both of Molly’s brothers were attending school in Boston. Neither had written in months.
That still didn’t make Garrett’s silence any less painful. Feeling vulnerable, and hating herself for it, she fought the urge to yank her hand free. “Why didn’t you write?” she demanded.
“I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me.” He gave her a long look, perhaps challenging her to deny his words.
How could she? She hadn’t wanted to hear from him. Not in the initial days after his departure, at any rate. She’d been too angry, too hurt. Then, her anger had turned to regret, which had morphed into unspeakable grief. How she had longed for a letter from him.
One letter, that’s all she’d wanted.
What would she have done had he written?
Would she have answered? Or would her pride have been too strong?
She would never know.
“No, Garrett, I didn’t want to hear from you. At first.” She stared down at their linked fingers, remembered their agreement for total honesty and decided to give him the rest. “I didn’t want to know how happy you were at school, how happy you were—” she swallowed “—without me.”
Chapter Eleven
For a brief moment, Garrett considered Molly’s words in silence. He kept his eyes trained on hers with unwavering resolve. Even when she gritted her teeth and fisted her free hand on the table, he held her gaze.
She stared right back, a silent accusation in her eyes and something else, something that spoke of sorrow, loss.
Clearly, this conversation was hard on her. Well, she wasn’t the only one struggling with painful memories of their parting. He nearly ended their discussion right then, but reminded himself he was a Mitchell. Mitchells didn’t run from difficulty, they faced it head-on.
