Page 20 of Drive To Survive

“Don’t try to fix me, Everly. It’s insulting and unwelcome. I’m not in the market for a woman, and even if I were, I wouldn’t pick a woman like you.”

I whirled around and walked away, but not fast enough to avoid seeing her face crumple. A strong urge to return to her and apologize tugged at me.

Instead, I climbed into my car and left.

EVERLY

I’m not in the market for a woman, and even if I were, I wouldn’t pick a woman like you.

Nico’s harsh rejection sliced through me as easily as a sharpened blade. Heat crept up my neck as I stared after his imposing figure striding away. What did he mean, “a woman like me”? What was wrong with me? Was I inherently unlovable or something? Is this why Paul left?

No. I refused to believe that. I might not be the catch of the century, but I wasn’t unlovable. Rhett loved me. My parents loved me. And they’re the only ones who mattered.

A hankering to see my mom and dad washed over me. They moved to Mexico three years after Dad had an accident at the construction site, which meant he couldn’t work there any longer. It was much cheaper to live in Mexico than anywhere in the United States, and given my dad’s tiny pension, it made sense for them to stretch what little money they had as far as they could.

Maybe if I saved enough, I could fly down for a few days the next time Rhett broke up for the school holidays. Then again, two round-trip economy tickets to Querétaro would cost over seven hundred dollars, and that was money I could put toward a therapist for Rhett.

I’d FaceTime them instead. Tonight after Rhett’s bath. It would be wonderful to see them, and Rhett would enjoy talking to them, too. At least that was better than no contact at all. When Paul walked out, Mom had wanted to return to America to help me with Rhett, but I’d flat out refused. They’d settled so well in Mexico, and by coming back here, they’d have to live in virtual poverty. I wouldn’t allow that to happen. It was my mess, and I’d clean it up.

When we got home, I plunked Rhett in front of the TV and set about tackling the huge pile of ironing stacked on the kitchen table. Turned out the mind-numbing task wasn’t a good idea, though. It allowed far too much time to think, and my mind kept returning to Nico’s stark rebuff. I’d made it perfectly obvious I found him attractive, and if I’d read the signals correctly, he liked me, too. But clearly the offer of lending a sympathetic ear had hit a nerve. Maybe he wasn’t yet over his accident. I shouldn’t have pressed him on it.

No woman wanted to be so easily spurned by a man as gorgeous as Nico Palmer, but despite how much his cruel and flippant dismissal had hurt me, I still wanted to erase the sadness in his eyes and tell him everything would be okay. One day. Maybe.

Oh, what the heck did I know? It wasn’t as if I had it all together. Hell, I was a mess. I put on a good show, but inside, I wanted to curl up in my dad’s arms and bawl my eyes out. I loved Rhett. I’d do anything for him, but damn, single parenthood was hard. It killed me that I couldn’t afford a top-notch therapist, one who would find the key to unlock the thoughts in Rhett’s head and somehow convince him that Paul’s leaving had nothing to do with him. I could say it until I was blue in the face, but even though Rhett would tell me he knew it wasn’t him, he didn’t believe it. Not in his heart.

On a sigh, with barely a dent made in the ironing, I gave up and opened my laptop instead.

“Rhett, don’t sit so close to the TV,” I said automatically, tapping my password on the keyboard.

He shuffled back about six inches.

Better than nothing, I suppose.

I opened my email program and scanned the list of unread emails. Most of them were junk, and not for the first time, I questioned why the spam software I’d purchased didn’t filter them out as it had promised to. I should ask for a refund.

I was so busy pressing the delete button that I almost missed one. Only the subject matter gave me a momentary pause. It was a response to the cold-call emails I’d sent to tout for work. The first one I’d received.

My fingers trembled as I opened it. Scanning the response, a smile edged across my face.

“Yes!” I cried.

Rhett shot a glance over his shoulder. “Mommy?”

I put the laptop on the coffee table, jumped to my feet, and did a little jig. Rhett giggled and joined in, and for those few moments, my boy came back.

“Mommy got a new client.” I gripped his hands, and we spun around, which brought on more laughter.

Out of all the messages I sent, this one was the one I’d pinned my hopes on. The company was a subsidiary of a much larger firm, and I hoped that if they were happy with my work, they might recommend me up the line. If I could get a foot in the door with a large company, that would open doors for others to take a chance on me.

And finally, I’d be able to start putting aside some money for Rhett’s therapy sessions.

I responded, accepting the appointment. Where one spark of interest caught fire, maybe more would follow.

I bathed Rhett, and then the two of us snuggled on the couch and video-called my parents.

Half an hour later, I hung up and put Rhett to bed. I perched on the edge of his bed and read him a story, but he’d withdrawn into himself again, and I could tell he wasn’t listening. I brushed aside a lock of his hair and kissed his forehead.

“Sweet dreams, soldier.”

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