But no. Both women and the girl to turn to stare at thesound of my voice. Sylvia. Unmistakably Sylvia. I see her eyes widen before they narrow to slits. Her lips tighten to a line that makes her look invincible, maybe more like Una than I ever noticed before. Sylvia’s grandmother is one tough lady, and unafraid to say even the most unwelcome truths out loud.
Is she still furious with me about that morning and my hard words?
What did she expect after spending the night with my no-good half-brother when we had a date? I shouldn’t have spoken up, but she shouldn’t have left with Luke. It was prom night.
That’s when I realize that the girl is the spitting image of Luke as a teenager. She’s all dark hair and attitude, flashing blue eyes and sooty lashes, tall and slim and ready to make trouble.
In the blink of an eye, a whole lot of things make sense that I could never explain before.
Sylvia obviously left because she was pregnant – with Luke’s child.
Maybe she even left with Luke. I don’t remember when he left town.
Maybe they’ve been together all these years.
But this girl is the reason Sylvia stayed away from Empire, because everybody would see what I see right now.
Luke’s daughter.
It’s a sucker punch that nearly drops me and I feel my heart crack all over again.
4
SYLVIA
Even though I told myself our paths would cross if I came back to Empire, I’m not expecting Mike, not now, not now, although I have to wonder whether I would ever expect him.
He looks just as astonished to see me and I wonder if he’s going to drop that flat of packaged tomatoes on the floor. His gaze is searching, like I’ve withheld something from him, which would be funny if it wasn’t so damn sad. My heart is lodged so tightly in my throat that it might choke me.
How can he have such a powerful effect on me after so much time? All he’s said is my name.
You’re supposed to learn from your mistakes. There’s a rumor that I’m smart, but I don’t feel that way now.
My knees are weak and my gut is churning.
I wish Mike didn’t look so good. He’s still big, easily six four, but he’s filled out in the years since I left. He’s more imposing, but just as quiet as ever. Intense. Endlessly patient. Really. He could take forever to run his fingers down – no. My mind will not stray to the gutter, notright in front of him. (Maybe later.) He looks a bit tired. That makes me wonder what he was doing last night, and who he was doing it with.
Not that it’s any of my business.
No ring on his left hand. (Yes. I check. Even though it doesn’t mean anything. After all, last I heard he was getting married.) I wish he’d shown up with his wife and half a dozen kids trailing behind them. They could even be adorable mini-Mikes. It would shred my guts, but it would kick hope to the curb for good.
Instead of leaving it free to make my pulse flutter and my imagination go wild.
Mike’s eyes are as vibrantly blue as ever, his brows and lashes just as black. He has a way of looking at you as if he really sees you, good and bad, and when he keeps looking, you feel like smiling. Maybe preening. Has there ever been a more principled man? I doubt it – even though I hate that I fell short of his ideals. Though there’s a resemblance between the half-brothers, he’s not as handsome as Luke. I’d say he was solidly attractive. A little rugged.
A whole lot hot. My toes are curling and he’s ten feet away. Mike is real in a way that Luke could never be. He’s the guy you might not notice right away, then the one you can’t believe you overlooked for a second. He’s impossible to forget. He’s good with his hands – get your mind out of the gutter – and he has great hands. Strong and gentle both. How many times have I watched him turning something over, figuring it out, deciding on how to fix it? He’s the guy who always knows the practical solution. He can unclog a drain, start a stalled car, fix a squeaky door, figure out why the fridge doesn’t stop running. I always thought he was reliable, a man to have at your back – and sincere, too.
Too bad his supposed admiration for me was so fleeting.
Even so, I wish I didn’t look so…functional. I’mwearing slim black pants and a crisp white shirt, but it’s not the most flattering ensemble in the world. (Yes. I want Daphne’s knock-out dress right now.) I didn’t put on make-up this morning, just a stroke of lipstick, but it didn’t matter until Mike was the one looking.
Mike. Every bit of anger melts away just because he’s here. Apparently, I haven’t learned a thing in sixteen years. That brings my fury surging back, redoubled – but I’m angry with myself not Mike.
I’m ready for Merrie to ask if the cat’s got my tongue, but Mike glances toward Sierra. I see the moment he does the inevitable math, and recognize the conclusion he makes. Although it might be easier for him to assume that Sierra is Luke’s daughter, it hurts harder than I expected that he’s so quick to decide that I was unfaithful to him.
We were only teenagers. It was a first love. But there was nothing “just” about it. That year with Mike seared my soul. My love was huge, larger than life, consuming, life-changing, hot and sweet and terrifyingly potent. I would have done anything for Mike, anything at all, if he’d just asked. Instead, he took what he wanted then said a lot of unkind things, closing the door between us forever and throwing away the key. Like father, like son.
Funny, it doesn’t feel like all that is in the past, not right now.
