Page 8 of The Cowboy's Second Chance Bride

“Do you know him?” She arched one brow in question.

I wondered how much she knew, assuming Jace being her source and all. I glanced at the face that had been such an important part of my life. Man, I hated him. Just as much as I still loved him. There was a fine line between those two emotions.

He’d changed. The lines at the end of his smile used to be deep grooves from his constant laughter and ease. Those were gone. His warm and inviting eyes were shuttered and vacant. Sure, to strangers, the image would look professional and exactly what one would want in a security expert. Cal looked dark, like he knew about the scary things hidden under beds and in closets and that he could single-handedly destroy them. In a movie, he’d play a Navy SEAL or some other sort of badass, with his dark hair, piercing dark-blue eyes, strong jaw, and slightly crooked nose from a few too many bar fights.

But I knew a different side to this face. Like a harlequin’s mask, neither side was the real face.

I looked up at Morgan and shook my head. “I don’t know this person.” I probably never had.

“Oh.” Morgan blinked rapidly.

“Why am I having this conversation with you instead of him?”

Is this Cal’s way of bringing me back into his life, to teach him to date? I found that hard to believe. He wasn’t a cruel person.

She bit her lip and looked like she was considering what to tell me. “He’s asked to have final say with hiring a love expert. The company PR guy and I think we need to get this rolling sooner rather than later, and you are the best. Your reputation precedes you. When I heard you were in town, I thought it was a sign that we should ask you, and if we waited for him to weigh in, you’d be gone.”

Hmm. Close scrutiny of her expression told me she was telling the truth.

“Well, um, do you think you might be able to help him? Of course, we will pay you. And pay you well. Twenty-five thousand for a minimum of two weeks for your consultation services. Each week after that will be negotiated on a week-by-week basis.”

Holy crap. That was half of my goal amount for only two weeks of work. I felt lightheaded just thinking about how quickly I could have that money in my account.

Who cared that I’d spent the first five years after getting dumped by this guy trying to recalibrate and figure out who I was or the last five years trying to forget he existed.

The real question was how badly I wanted to reach my current life-and-money goals. The sooner I reached them, the sooner I could move to step three. And I really, really wanted to move to step three.

I stared at the phone. I’d locked up that hurt a long time ago, knowing if I saw him again, it would all come flooding back. And I’d been right—I was sitting ina soup of memories and heartache at that very minute.

He’d told me it was over and that separating was for the best. That was it. Nothing more.

I’d begged like a fool for further explanation. All I got was a view of his back as he turned and walked out the door. For good. I never saw him again. And though that seemed cruel, in my heart of hearts I knew there had to have been more at play. What hurt was him not believing in us enough to address it as a couple.

Did I have closure? Nope, not a bit. Did I want it? Yep. Was getting it worth the possible setback it might cost me? Heck, yeah, I deserved it. You didn’t give someone three years of your life and run off to elope only to be dumped hours before the wedding and then not believe you deserved closure.

And to get paid to get my closure. Boom! I’d never sought him out after he left, believing that the universe would deliver closure. And boy howdy, had it delivered.

Cal needed a rescue, and his company had come to me. Ironic? Coincidence? Did I care? Nope. Lying in my lap was the golden goose.

Okay, but think of the job. Can you be his love expert and help him?

Barf. That’s what that thought makes me want to do.

But this was a win-win situation. I’d get my closure, and he’d get the help he needed. Plus, there was the money. Hello. And we were both adults, not emotional college students.

I couldn’t see the downside to this. My dad used to say, “The house always wins,” and in this scenario, I was the house. I always had the option to walk.

Could you really leave that money behind?

Yes? No? Probably no.

Cal was the past. My goal was my future. I would have to keep that in mind.

I smiled at Morgan. “I don’t know if I can help, but I like your idea of meeting him and seeing if we can make something happen.”

Oh, something was going to happen all right. And Cal wouldn’t see it coming. I got a little bit of pleasure knowing that.

Was I being a little petty? Sure. Did I care? Not too much, actually.

---