Page 36 of Second Time Around
“I began as a volunteer at a fund-raising event they held when I was in college.” Petra shook her head with a self-deprecating smile. “I only did it because the boy I was dating back then had organized it. But I got bowled over by the cause, and became more and more involved. When I graduated, it seemed natural to move into a job with them. And I’ve been there ever since.”
Kyra could see by the way Petra leaned toward her that she was going to ask a question, so she cast around for another way to throw her off. “Where have you traveled recently?”
“Oh, all over.” She held up the strand of carved wooden beads that cascaded down from her slender neck. “Some lovely ladies made this for me when I was in Kenya a couple of months ago. Wasn’t that the sweetest thing?” She let the necklace fall, her gaze fastened on Kyra as though seeking her agreement. “Last week I was in Los Angeles and Seattle. I’m trying to set up some highly visible events around the country to raise our profile.”
“You must be succeeding because it’s certainly a well-known and well-respected charity,” Kyra said.
“You are so kind to say that,” Petra said, but it was automatic. She expected the compliment. “I’m very passionate about the cause, so Itend to talk too much about it. Tell me more about you. Where do you live?”
Since Petra lived in New York, she’d insist on a specific locale. “South Harlem, on the top floor of a wonderful old townhouse from the eighteen hundreds. The heat is a little unreliable, but it has great charm.”
“That area is very popular now,” Petra said, nodding. “There are some real architectural gems for almost reasonable prices.”
Like Kyra could buy any of them.
“I work at an after-school care center nearby as the chief cook and bottle washer. And I do some bartending.” There, she’d told the truth and it hadn’t sounded so bad.
“I love kids.” Again it sounded a little rote, but her eyes were warm. “What ages do you work with?”
“What we call the in-between kids, eight through thirteen with some wiggle room. They’re too old for the preschool programs and too young for the teen programs, so they can get kind of lost. We offer them a safe, stable place with healthy food and quiet study facilities. And they can adopt rescue dogs in the K-9 Angelz program.” Kyra stopped with a short laugh. “I get passionate about my cause, too, I guess.”
Just then, Will walked up with Farr trailing behind him. “Petra. This is unexpected.” He bent and kissed the air beside her cheek.
A look of longing crossed Petra’s face and she tilted her head toward him, as though she hoped to have his lips actually touch her skin. “How have you been, Will?”
“Good,” he said. “And you?” His voice was polite but distant.
“Busy as ever,” she said. “Lots of traveling.”
Will nodded, the motion a curt jerk of his head. “I’m afraid Kyra and I need to head back to the city.”
Petra started to say something, then pressed her lips together and nodded. “Safe travels.”
“And to you,” Will responded, holding out his hand to Kyra. His grip was almost crushing as he helped her rise from the cushy love seat.
“Great meeting you,” Kyra said to Petra. “Good luck with your fund-raising.”
Petra nodded but her eyes were on the man beside Kyra. Even her body angled toward him, despite the fact that Farr took the seat Kyra had just vacated.
No matter what had happened between them, Petra still wanted Will.
Will tucked Kyra’s hand into his elbow and stalked across the room, forcing her to jog to keep up with him for the first few steps. When he noticed, he muttered an apology and shortened his stride. She could feel anger sizzling off him in waves.
His father and mother glanced their way and then left their guests to follow them into the entrance hall.
“Son, your mother wants to say good-bye.” His father’s voice crackled with command.
Kyra was afraid Will would keep on walking, but he halted just a few steps from the front door. He dipped his head to Kyra and murmured, “I’m sorry about this disaster. I’ll make it up to you.”
She gave his elbow a reassuring squeeze as he turned them both to face his parents. Twain stood with his arm around Betsy’s shoulders. Kyra couldn’t decide if he was showing solidarity or holding her back.
“I’ve asked you not to invite Petra to private family gatherings,” Will said.
Betsy made a graceful but dismissive gesture. “It wasn’t a family gathering. Just a few special friends lingering after the party. You needn’t have rushed off so rudely.”
Kyra felt Will stiffen. “You are not doing Petra any favors,” he said. “You lead her to think I want her here.”
“Why shouldn’t you want her here?” his mother said. “She’s a lovely girl, and she still cares about you.”
