Page 5 of Sin Bin

Meadow made a wry face at him. “You make it sound like Denver is on another planet.”

“It’s not here,” he grumbled, “so it might as well be in outer space.”

Meadow laughed as she selected a roll from the bread basket. She and her adoptive father were having dinner at their favorite restaurant, a comfy spot tucked away from the bright lights and glitzy casinos of the Strip. It was their Monday night ritual, a chance for them to enjoy a quiet meal together before they got caught up in their busy lives.

Her father was frowning. “I didn’t even know you were looking for jobs out of state.”

She sighed. “I didn’t want to, but I didn’t really have much of a choice. The pickings are slim in Nevada, and social work is a competitive field.”

Six months ago, she’d been working as a caseworker for Child Protective Services. It was her dream job, the reason she’d busted her hump in school and graduated early with a master’s degree in social work. She’d loved the important work she was doing, loved the children she met and helped.

And then came the state budget cuts. And just like that, she was out of a job.

Since then she’d been temping and volunteering while looking for new employment. After three months of getting nowhere, she’d broadened her search to the rest of the country. Three more nerve-wracking months passed before she’d finally heard back from a company called Gamenetic. They had an opening for a corporate social responsibility manager. She’d applied for the position because it sounded exciting and challenging, and she would still be able to help children in need.

After conducting a phone interview last week, the company had called that morning to invite her for a second interview.

Since receiving the phone call, she’d been feeling excited, nervous, giddy and anxious. But now as she sat staring at her father’s disappointed face, she was swamped by another emotion: guilt.

“I’m gonna miss our weekly dinners if you move to Denver,” he said gruffly. “Coming here won’t be the same without you.”

Her throat tightened. “I know. I’ll miss our dinners, too.”

She’d lost her parents at the age of six and spent the next three years bouncing between foster homes before Harris and Lacey Ryan adopted her. Just when she was starting to feel like part of a real family again, Lacey had been diagnosed with a rare type of brain cancer. Two years later she was gone.

Her death devastated her husband and Meadow, who became convinced that she was cursed. Losing her biological parents had been traumatic enough. Losing a second mother had been almost more than she could bear. The only thing that had kept her from retreating into her protective shell was her father. Grief had bonded them together more tightly than ever. They’d leaned on each other, mourned together, and gave each other the strength to keep living.

Meadow totally understood why the prospect of her leaving saddened her father. It saddened her, too. But she was running out of options, and she didn’t want to be a financial burden to him. She needed to stand on her own two feet.

“Denver,” Harris repeated with a shake of his head.

“You have a sister in Denver,” Meadow reminded him.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Did she put you up to this?”

“Not exactly.” For months Aunt Rosalie had been urging Meadow to join her in Denver, insisting that she needed to go someplace completely new and get a fresh start. The universe must have been listening, because the only company she’d heard from was located in Denver.

Her father sipped his water, set his glass down and began studying his menu even though he knew it by heart and always ordered the same thing.

“Your aunt isn’t the only one in Denver,” he said without looking up. “Logan Brassard’s there, too.”

Just hearing the name made Meadow’s stomach flutter with emotions she didn’t want to analyze too closely.

Her father lifted his eyes from the menu to search her face quietly. “Did he cross your mind when you applied for the job in Denver?”

She swallowed the thick knot rising in her throat.

Before she could answer her father, they were joined by a tall, attractive woman with an impossibly fit body dressed in high-end casual wear.

“Hello, darlings.” She flashed a thin smile at Meadow and bent to kiss Harris before sliding into the empty chair at the table. And just like that, their party of two was no more.

“Sorry I’m late. Class ran over.” Wendi with an i—as she introduced herself to people—was a divorced yoga instructor. She’d met Harris at the gym after one of her classes. They went out for smoothies, hit it off and began dating. They’d been together for a year—the longest year of Meadow’s life. Which was saying a lot considering her troubled childhood.

When her father’s phone rang, he excused himself to take the call. As a park ranger, he worked long hours and was always on standby for emergencies.

Shortly after he left the table, the waitress appeared. Wendi ordered for herself and Harris, then looked expectantly at Meadow.

She’d skipped lunch, so she was starving. “I’ll have the lasagna.”

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