“Oh,” she said, remembering the day well.

  “He couldn’t follow you into your office fast enough.”

  “Doesn’t mean he loves me.”

  “Taylor, when are you going to stop with the punishment?” Reena demanded.

  “I’m not punishing Mike for what happened.”

  The older woman shook her head, looking sad. “Not Mike, you.”

  TAYLOR STOOD LOOKING OUT her window down into the dim courtyard, letting the sweat of her run dry on her body while she sipped water. She could hear the singing hum of crickets out there. The outdoor lamps cast glimmering silver dollars onto the green space below her apartment window.

  Her run hadn’t helped at all. She still felt a sort of ache behind her diaphragm. Longing, that’s what it was, gut-deep yearning for the man she loved to the bottom of her being. The man she’d pushed away.

  Was it possible Reena was right? Was she punishing herself for what had happened?

  Something inside her had broken apart, she realized, during that awful time when her father died and she lost the baby.

  She did feel guilt, she realized. Deep down she believed that if she hadn’t caused the miscarriage, her actions had certainly contributed. Mike had begged her to stay put, saying there was nothing she could do for her father. He was in a coma. But she hadn’t listened. She’d flown down to sit at his bedside, pushed herself to exhaustion sitting there almost around the clock for the better part of a week.

  He died without ever regaining consciousness.

  After she lost the baby, she hadn’t grieved delicately. She’d ranted and yelled at Mike. Maybe he’d been awfully quick to take refuge in work and sports, but she knew she’d pushed him away.

  Reena was right. She could never move on until she came to terms with what had happened between Mike and her.

  When he’d stared at her in that wedding dress everything had come rushing back. All the feelings she’d once had for him, and she thought she’d seen his for her reflected back at her.

  She looked out across the courtyard of her apartment complex. On the other side, through the windows that faced hers, she saw a couple, obviously also fresh home from work. They were chatting, the way couples do at the end of the day, and from here she could almost imagine the conversation. “How did that presentation go? Did you hire a new assistant? If I brown the chicken, can you make the salad?” The simple routines and everyday pleasures of being a couple.

  Unconsciously, she placed a protective hand across her belly.

  The ache behind her diaphragm grew worse and her breathing more ragged than when she’d first arrived home after her run. She was so lonely. She hadn’t felt lonely when she was traveling Australia by herself, or maybe she simply hadn’t allowed herself to feel it. But now she did. Because she’d had that relationship she was watching across the courtyard, the easy familiarity, the comfort of friendship and the passion of lovers. She’d had it with Mike, and then, the second things had become difficult, she’d run. Fast and far.

  Now they were in the same city, connected once more by work, and she felt so lonely for him that she ached.

  She looked at the phone. What if she called him? What if she broke their unwritten rule and called him and invited him over for dinner? An image of the way he’d looked at her when she’d been wearing that wedding dress flashed across her mind again. The way he’d kissed her as though he still had the right.

  She picked up the phone, then realized she didn’t even know his number. She’d have to get it from information. She imagined the phone conversation once she got hold of him. How would she even start off? What would she say? What if some woman answered his phone, or he refused her invitation?

  No, worst of all, what if he accepted?

  Never in her life had she felt more confused. Not only did she not know her own mind, she pretty much thought she was out of it entirely.

  She put the cordless back into its cradle and walked into the bathroom. She showered, rubbed moisturizer into her skin, threw on some clean jeans and a T-shirt and settled in front of the TV with a single-girl dinner of salad and sparkling water.

  She was tired, she reminded herself. She’d been working like a maniac learning her job, doing her job and trying to keep up with Hank and his amazing career. Definitely, she could use a night off. Trouble was, all the mindless tasks like cleaning and laundry left her mind free to contemplate the mess she had made of things, and the unresolved issues in her life.

  One of which was how she felt about her ex-husband.

  When she settled into bed that night, she felt him beside her, an unseen presence. She felt his arm around her, the way they used to settle to sleep, felt it so strongly that she imagined if she spoke to him he might answer her.

  Of course, she didn’t dare test her theory because she couldn’t bear the silence when he didn’t reply.

  THE PHONE WAS RINGING. When Taylor was in the office, typically Monday to Wednesday, it seemed the phone was always ringing.

  Hank was suddenly somebody, which meant her job was becoming both more exciting and more demanding each day. Taylor had never had so much fun.

  She picked up. “Taylor Robinson.”

  “Hey, Taylor. Mike here.”

  He’d never called her. Not since they broke up. There was a short pause before she said, “Hi,” and waited.

  “Look, I need a favor,” he said.

  “Okay. What is it?”

  “We’re doing this series of Day in a Life features. My editor wants me to do one on Hank.”

  “Sounds interesting,” she said, knowing already that Hank’s schedule was as full as it could hold. But he’d done a nice job on the profile and she wanted to help him out.

  “I know. He’s hot and everybody wants a piece of him, but we’ve had so much positive feedback on the profile that he asked me to give it a shot.”

  “It was a really nice feature,” she said. “You did a good job.”

  “Glad you liked it.” He sounded genuinely pleased.

  “What do you need?”

  “A day. I basically tail him and talk to him for a bit.”

  “What kind of timing are you looking at?”

  “A race day would be my preference, sometime in the next three to four weeks.”

  “I’ll talk to Hank. Let me see what I can do.”

  “Thanks.”

  There was a pause. He didn’t hang up and neither did she.

  “So,” he finally said, “how’s it going?”

  She settled back in her chair, glanced around the office at the stacks of magazines and the new poster of Hank framed on her wall, at the computer screen open to her driver’s calendar. “It’s going well,” she said.

  “Like the new job?”

  “More than I thought I would.”

  “Do you miss journalism?”

  Was he criticizing? Somehow, she didn’t think so, he sounded like he really wanted to know.

  “Not really. I’m having too much fun with what I’m doing. Learning new skills and all.”

  “You’re good at the job,” he said, sounding sincere.

  She felt a smile bloom. Crazy that it should matter what her ex-husband thought of her abilities in her new job, but it did. “Thanks. It’s been quite the learning curve, but I’m starting to feel like I fit in.”

  “Watching races live at the track is better than when we used to watch them on big-screen TV, back in Seattle,” he said.

  She thought back on how they’d first become friends and then fallen in love in the glow of those big screens. “That was pretty fun, too,” she said softly.

  “Yeah. It was.”

  There was another pause. “Do you think we could—”

  “Damn it, editorial meeting’s started. I’ve got to go.” And before she could say goodbye, he was gone.

  Without letting her finish her sentence.

  She supposed he’d given her her answer. The response to “Do you think we could—” was clearly and unequivocally no. She wasn’t even certain herself how she would have ended that sentence. It was half out before her brain had caught up with her mouth. She thought she was going to say, “Do you think we could be friends?”

  That was what she missed most, she thought, Mike’s friendship. Nobody ever got her the way he did or made her laugh the way he could.

  Oh, well. Trying to be friends was probably a stupid idea, anyway.

  She went back to her computer, looking at how she could fit Mike into Hank’s crowded schedule. She did love her job. After leaving Seattle and a promising career in such a hurry it was good to be working again, proving herself once more. Did she miss journalism?

  She thought about it. Her goal had always been to work for a while and then, when she had kids, she’d imagined working as a freelance journalist so she could stay home with her babies. She was taking a break for a different reason than she’d imagined, but it wasn’t a big deal not to be writing now. She’d pick it up again at some point in her life.

  Mike had been completely supportive of her decision to work from home, she remembered. For a second she closed her eyes against a wave of regret. If things had worked out differently…

  But they hadn’t.

  She typed a note into Hank’s calendar slotting Mike in. She used green text, which meant Unconfirmed. There were plenty of notations in black, which meant they were confirmed, and even more in green, the tentative ones. She and Hank would work together to decide which events, appearances and media opportunities he’d commit to.

  She was getting ready to send him the latest version of his calendar for the week when Hank strolled all the way into her office instead of hovering in the doorway like he usually did.

  “How’s it going?” he asked her.

  “You’re keeping me busy.”

  He grinned. “Excellent. And then you keep me busy.”

  “Seems to be the way it works.”

  “I need to take a quick trip home. My grandmother’s sick. Can I blow off tomorrow and Wednesday?”

  “Of course, if it’s a family emergency.”

  “It’s not that bad. She broke her arm a couple of months ago and she just got the cast off.” He shrugged. “She’s miserable because her arm is still weak. My mom thought that if I went home for a visit it would cheer her up.”

  “Okay.” She looked over his schedule. “Yeah, there’s nothing here that can’t be rescheduled. I’ll get right on it.”

  “Thanks, Taylor. You take the time off too. You’ve been working too hard.”

  “Oh, well, I’m shopping with Kendall tomorrow morning, but I’ve got lots to keep me busy in the afternoon.”

  “No. I mean it. I really want you to take the time off. I want you extra fresh this weekend—” he leaned toward her and dropped his voice “—because I am planning to win.”

  She laughed. “Thanks for the warning, but you know what? I always think you’re going to win.”

  “That’s why we make such a great team. We both think I’m fabulous.”

  It was the twinkle in his eyes, she decided, that let him get away with his outrageous behavior. “I’ll make sure to put that in your media messages.”

  He walked around and looked over her shoulder at his schedule. “What’s this?”

  “Mike Lundquist just called. He wants to profile you for a Day in the Life feature in his paper.”

  “Cool. When?”

  She raised her brows in surprise. “Are you sure you want to? It’s a whole day of being followed around by a reporter. Which means being on your best behavior.”

  “Sure. I can do it. Besides, he’ll write a flattering profile of me.”

  “What makes you so sure of that?”

  He sent her that devilish expression. “He stole my bride. He owes me a favor.”

  “And speaking of that,” she said. “Thanks for passing me on. I feel like a toaster that got regifted.”

  He laughed. “He’s a good guy, a friend of Dy’s, and he sure seems to like you. I should have told you I was bailing but I kind of got busy.”

  “Well, I hope your grandmother makes you play three thousand hands of gin rummy, because I am stuck wedding-dress shopping tomorrow. Again.”

  “Yeah, I’m real sorry to miss that,” he said.

  She grabbed an elastic band out of the tray where she kept them, getting a bull’s-eye on his back. There was something satisfying about surprising someone with an elastic-band missile.

  “No,” he said, laughing. “Really, I’m sorry.” And then he showed the great good sense to head out of her office as fast as his long legs would carry him, so he was gone before her next missile launched.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  TUESDAY DAWNED. ANOTHER bridal shopping day. This time, Taylor was determined Kendall would go home with a dress. How hard could it be? If she’d been able to buy a wedding dress in ten minutes in a hotel-lobby store, she thought two full days in bridal boutiques should yield Kendall’s gown.

  When the phone rang and it was Kendall on the other end, she hoped the woman was calling to cancel. A day at home to putter around, do some washing and mundane chores, maybe even water her ficus, would be heaven. But no, it seemed Kendall wasn’t calling to cancel. She’d moved up the meeting time. And she sounded excited. “Listen, can you be ready by ten?”

  “Um, yes, sure.”

  “Great, we’ll pick you up on our way downtown. Oh, and can you pack a change of clothes for somewhere nice for dinner? Dy wants to take us out as a way of saying thanks to you and Mike for your help.”

  “It’s fine, really. No thanks necessary.”

  “You don’t have plans for tonight, do you?” Kendall sounded ridiculously disappointed.

  “No. I don’t have plans. I just don’t want you feeling you have to take me for dinner.” And in the company of her ex, who had made it clear he didn’t want to be friends with her.

  “Trust me, we’ll have fun,” Kendall said.

  No doubt Kendall would, Taylor thought sourly as she threw her only little black dress into a bag with black heels, a change of underwear and her makeup kit.

  Dylan and Kendall arrived five minutes early looking disgustingly pleased with themselves and far too in love.

  Once they had Taylor’s bag thrown in the back and were on their way, Kendall immediately started discussing bridesmaids’ dresses. Taylor made polite noises to indicate that she was listening when really she was wondering how soon she could have Kendall in a dress she liked, with venue, flowers and anything else that needed booking booked and be done with all of this subterfuge.

  “So, I was thinking teal-blue would be nice, but if you prefer the dusky rose, I’m fine with that, too.”

  She realized the woman was looking at her with brows raised, waiting for an answer. “I think you should decide. It’s your wedding.”

  “But you’ll be wearing the dress.”

  The truth struck her like a thunderbolt. “Me? You want me to be a bridesmaid?”

  “Maid of honor, actually. I can’t think of anyone better. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I feel like we’re friends, and this whole wedding-planning experience is such a bonding time. So, what do you say? Will you do it?”

  What could she say? She ought to be a matron of honor, but she wasn’t going there. “Well, of course. I’d love to. Thanks.”

  “You’re my only attendant. With your coloring I think teal, don’t you?”

  “Teal is fine.”

  “Excellent. See? You’re the perfect maid of honor already.”

  “Where are we going?” Taylor asked as the car headed away from the shopping areas of town.

  “We’re picking Mike up.”

  Her stomach dipped. She and Mike stuck in the backseat together. That should be fun.

  He seemed to share her enthusiasm for backseat sharing and wedding-dress shopping based on the way he rolled his eyes as he got in so only she could see him.

  He’d thrown an overnighter bag in the back as well, so now she knew he hadn’t had any plans tonight, either. Not that she should care if he had company on a Tuesday night or not.

  Kendall turned around once the car was moving again. There was an air of suppressed excitement about her. “So, we have a surprise,” she said.

  “Oh, goodie,” Mike said under his breath.

  Taylor choked back a laugh and said, “What is it?”

  “How would you like to go to New York?”

  “When?”

  “Right now.”

  “Uh—”

  “My heart’s set on that dress I saw in the magazine. It’s in New York.”

  Taylor nodded, remembering the dress and agreeing with her friend that it would look fabulous on her.

  “Maybe you could have it shipped.”

  “Better idea. Dylan’s chartered a plane. We’ll be in the Big Apple before you know it.”

  “You’re going to fly to New York City to try on a dress?” Mike asked in a tone of disbelief.

  “Why not?” Taylor said, jumping to her friend’s defense. “You guys fly all over the country to drive cars too fast.” She narrowed her gaze on Mike. “Or to write about guys who drive too fast.”

  “Ouch,” he said, miming a wound to the chest.

  “I’m simply saying that one is no more silly than the other.”

  “Dy, what is the appropriate response to that?”

  “Dignified silence, buddy. Stick with dignified silence.”

  “Well, have a good time. You won’t need me and Taylor.”

  “Yes, we do,” Dylan said.

  “Oh, please say you’ll come. We’ve got it all organized. We’ll have so much fun. We’re picking up my ring at Tiffany’s. We have to celebrate. We’ll be back tomorrow, anytime you say.”

  Now she realized why Hank had been so adamant she should take a couple of days off. Once more, there’d been some backroom dealing between him and Dylan.

  “Well, um…” Taylor glanced at Mike, who was looking at her oddly.

  “Fine by me,” he said. “I like New York.”

  What could she say? She liked New York, too, she just wasn’t sure she wanted to see it with her ex. However, if there was any hope of them becoming friends again, this was a good opportunity to try it out. “Sure. It will be fun.”