CHAPTER 32
After his visit with Megan, Ean walked back to his office. His steps were brisk in the crisp, cold air as he covered the sidewalk circling the center. But he slowed when he saw the woman standing outside his office. “May I help you?”
Ramona turned to face him. “Good morning, Ean.”
Ean stopped and stared at his ex-girlfriend. He’d never seen her this way before. She was bundled in her familiar fake-fur coat. But her long, luxurious black hair had been scraped back from her face and stuffed under a woolen hat. She wore flats instead of her usual stilettos. Her face was devoid of any makeup, even lipstick.
“Ramona?” Ean searched her face for some idea of what was wrong. “Are you OK?”
“Of course.” With her black-leather–gloved hands, Ramona pulled her cashmere hat lower on her ears. “Why do you ask?”
“This is a very different look for you.” Ean crossed to his office door. He glanced at her again from over his shoulder.
“I thought it was time for a change. Do you have a few minutes? I’d like to talk with you.”
“Sure.” Ean pushed open the door, allowing her to precede him into the suite.
He led Ramona into his office and helped her with her coat. She tugged off her black leather gloves and hat, pulling strands of hair free of her uncharacteristic ponytail. Had he ever seen her with her hair pulled back?
Ean stowed her belongings on the coatrack. He waited for Ramona to settle into one of his two guest chairs before taking his seat behind his desk.
“This shouldn’t take long.” Ramona crossed her legs and leaned back in the armchair.
“Take your time. I don’t have any appointments today.” What was the motivation behind her new look? Could it have anything to do with Quincy?
“Ean, what are your intentions toward my cousin?”
That was unexpected.
Ean struggled to pull his thoughts back together. “Why are you asking?”
“If you break my cousin’s heart, I’ll make every waking moment of your life a living hell.” There was ice in her words.
He returned her steely regard. “In all the years we were together, I think you’ll agree that I treated you well.”
“But Megan is my younger cousin. She’s not used to standing up for herself.”
Ean arched a brow. “She doesn’t have any trouble standing up to me.”
“She does seem to have found her spine recently.” Ramona tilted her head. “Have you had anything to do with that?”
The suggestion was flattering. “I doubt it.”
Ramona didn’t look convinced. “As long as we understand each other, Ean. If you hurt my cousin, I’ll make you sorry you were ever born.”
“I won’t hurt her. I promise.” Ean sat back in his chair, considering this new version of Ramona McCloud. “You and Megan never seemed close.”
Ramona had a tendency to bully Megan, but there was no doubt she meant what she said about the consequences of his mistreating her.
She shrugged. “We’ve had our differences, but she’s the only family I have. And I’ve realized that she’s worth fighting for.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Did you know Megan had a crush on you when she was fourteen?”
“She mentioned that to me.” Ean struggled to hold her gaze.
“I don’t make idle threats, Ean.” Ramona seemed to be channeling her inner Mafia godmother. “Anyone in town can tell you that. With a simple word from me, no one will patronize your practice.”
“I’m sure that’s true.” Or at least she thought it was. “But it won’t be necessary.”
“I hope not.” Ramona held his gaze. “So what are your intentions toward my cousin?”
“I’m in love with her.”
Ramona seemed taken aback by his admission. And then she smiled. “That’s wonderful. When can we expect a marriage proposal?”
It was Ean’s turn to be surprised. “I wasn’t expecting this reaction from you. You seem . . . happy.”
Ramona smiled, blinking rapidly. “In the eight years we were together, you never told me you loved me.”
Ean’s eyes widened. “Ramona, I—”
Ramona waved her hands to interrupt him. “This is wonderful. I know you’re sincere about your feelings. You wouldn’t say you love her, if you didn’t mean it.”
“I do.”
“Great! When will you propose?”
“It’s not that easy.” Ean was frustrated. “I don’t think she trusts me.”
Ramona’s jaw dropped. “Why not? What have you done?”
“Nothing, but I don’t think Megan believes I’m staying in Trinity Falls.”
Ramona frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. You’ve signed a one-year rental agreement with your town house, and you’ve started your own practice. Why would she think you’re not staying?”
“It doesn’t make sense to me, either.”
“Well, you’re just going to have to prove it to her.” Ramona stood and crossed to the coatrack.
“What more can I do?”
“You’ll figure it out. But it’s going to have to be big, since the town house and practice didn’t work.” She slipped into her coat and put the hat back on her head. “Good luck. I’m rooting for both of you.”
Ean watched Ramona walk out of his office. Their conversation had been surreal. She suggested that he prove his love to Megan. But how?
Doreen opened her front door to a tired-looking Leonard Thursday night. According to her silver-and-pearl Movado wristwatch, it was almost eight o’clock.
“Practice run late?” Doreen crossed her arms and leaned against the doorjamb. Hopefully, her body language conveyed, You’ll have to work for this.
“It was a tough practice. I don’t know if the team’s ready for tomorrow night’s game.”
More than cold air and a front step separated them. Doreen hadn’t seen or heard from Leonard in a week, since the night he’d mistakenly thought he had the right to tell her not to run for mayor. No phone call, no e-mail, not even a sighting at Books & Bakery. Had her grown lover been pouting like a spoiled child? Oh, yeah. He’d have to work for this.
“That doesn’t have anything to do with me.” Doreen straightened from the doorjamb and started to close the door.
“Dorie, wait.” Leonard sighed. “We need to talk.”
Doreen raised her eyebrows in a silent question. “About what?”
“Us.”
Now, after a week of having me cool my heels, he wants to talk?
Doreen hesitated before stepping back and pulling the door wider. “Fine.”
Leonard crossed her threshold and took off his winter coat. Doreen closed and locked her door as she watched him hang his coat in her front closet. She pulled her fluffy brown sweater closer around her and led him into her great room.
Doreen settled onto her thick rose-colored armchair and crossed her arms and legs. “I’m listening.”
Leonard dropped onto the matching sofa. “Are you sure?”
“Don’t get cute with me, Leo. You’re on thin ice.”
“OK.” Leonard rested his forearms on his thighs. “I reacted badly when you told me you were running for mayor.”
“Is that supposed to be an apology?”
“No—”
“You owe me an apology. And it had better be good.”
“I’m trying to explain.” Leonard stood and wandered to the other side of the room. His movements were stiff and uncertain.
Doreen squashed a sense of concern and held on to her mad. “Explain what? Your temporary insanity? Go ahead. I’m all ears.”
Leonard spoke with his back to her. “You and I have been dating for five months now. But we’ve known each other for forever. We’ve been there for each other through joys and sorrows.”
It was getting harder to stay angry. “We’ve been friends for years. I think that’s why it was so easy for us to slip into a relationship.”
Leonard turned. “But this is more than just a simple relationship to me. Dorie, I’m in love with you.”
Doreen froze. His words scattered her thoughts and temporarily stole her voice. She worked her throat, trying to unglue the muscles.
Leonard spread his arms. “Dorie. Please. Say something.”
Doreen worked her throat some more. “Leo. I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
Leonard dropped his arms. “Tell me how you feel.”
Doreen stood. She circled the armchair, putting it between them. “You’re a good friend, Leo. I care about you very much.”
“But you don’t love me.”
“Paul hasn’t even been gone a year yet.” Her words were breathy. Her pulse was racing. “There’s a part of me that’s still in love with him.”
Leonard nodded. “I understand. You and Paul were together for a very long time, even longer than Claudia and I.”
“I haven’t completely let go.” Doreen dug her fingernails into the top of the armchair. “I don’t know whether I’ll ever be able to.”
“I wondered if you’d be able to love me after loving Paul so much.” Leonard rubbed his hands over his eyes. “When he died, you closed yourself off from everyone.”
Doreen locked her shaking knees. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been lost. You’re a good friend.”
“But I want to be more than friends.” Leonard pushed his fists into his front pants pockets. “I want to be your husband.”
Doreen’s grip on the sturdy armchair was the only thing keeping her standing. “I have no intention of getting married ever again.”
“You can’t say that. You could change your mind.” A hint of desperation edged his words.
Doreen maneuvered her way to the front of the chair and sank onto its cushion. “Leo, I’m glad you’re in my life. I enjoy our relationship—both in and out of bed. But that’s all I’m looking for right now.”
“Why?”
Doreen threw up her hands in a nervous gesture. “I’m still looking for myself. I want to know who I am, who I’m becoming now that my life has taken such a devastating turn.”
“Do you think you’re going to find that in the mayor’s office?”
She gave him a sharp look. But his tone and expression was more confused than condemning this time. “I’d like to try.”
Leonard pulled his hands free of his pockets and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s hard to hear that the woman you’re in love with would rather be mayor of a town than your wife.”
Doreen stood and crossed to him. “I’m honored that you think of me that way.”
“I was hoping for a different reaction.”
She took hold of Leonard’s hands and gently squeezed them. “Before I can be a couple with anyone, I need to know who I am by myself. Can you understand that?”
Leonard heaved a sigh. “I can try.”
“And I would really like for things to stay the way they are between us.”
He squeezed her hands in return. “If that’s all you can give me for now, I’ll take it.”
“And for the election, I could really use your vote.”
Leonard chuckled. “You’ll have to work for that one.”
“Fair enough.” Doreen laughed with relief. Her friend, and lover, was back.
“Have you heard from Penn about your faculty position?” Ean asked the question of Quincy in a voice loud enough to be heard in the crowded sports bar.
He, Quincy and Darius were watching the National Football League’s Cleveland Browns and Chicago Bears face each other in a Sunday-afternoon competition. He washed down the bite of spicy buffalo wing with a swig of weak beer.
“They’ve asked me back for an interview.” Quincy didn’t seem enthusiastic.
“When were you going to tell us?” Darius froze as he plunged a celery stalk into Quincy’s blue cheese dressing.
Quincy shrugged. “I’m telling you now.”
Ean read Quincy’s conflict beneath his studied nonchalance. “What’s bothering you?”
Quincy exhaled an irritated breath. “Why do you think something’s bothering me?”
Ean gestured with a hot wing. “First, I can hear it in your voice. Second, you’re letting Darius eat your celery and blue cheese.”
Quincy’s jaw tightened. He moved the blue cheese away from Darius. “Would it kill you to buy your own food?”
Darius dropped the remains of a buffalo wing in an empty bowl and reached for a leg this time. “Ean’s right. You seem even weirder tonight. Talk.”
“Nothing’s bothering me.” Quincy grabbed a potato chip, avoiding their eyes. “You two are like nagging old women.”
“It’s Ramona, isn’t it?” Ean watched closely for Quincy’s reaction.
The professor tensed. “What’s Ramona?”
“It must be Ramona.” Darius stretched across the table to scoop a celery stalk once more into Quincy’s dressing.
Ean drank some of his watered-down house beer. “Are you thinking about staying in Trinity Falls now?”
“I don’t know.” Quincy’s smile was bittersweet. “It figures I’d get this opportunity when one of my best friends returns and the woman I care about realizes I exist.”
Ean’s lingering concern over their strained relationship disappeared when Quincy referred to him as one of his best friends. “You don’t have to take Penn’s offer, if you think you’d be making a mistake.”
Darius gestured with his mug of beer. “No one would think any worse of you than they do now.”
Quincy cut the reporter a look before addressing Ean. “It’s a smart move for my career. No one’s heard of Trinity Falls University, but everyone knows the University of Pennsylvania. More prestige, more money, better location—”
Darius interrupted. “Since when did you want to move to the big city?”
“Since I realized you were staying here.” Quincy’s response was long-suffering. He moved his celery and blue cheese farther from Darius’s reach. “I love Trinity Falls. But there’s a lot of history in Philadelphia, a lot of visiting exhibitions. I’d have better access to those things if I were at Penn.”
The fact that he’d come home just as his childhood friend was leaving bothered Ean as well. “It’s a tough decision. I don’t envy you. But luckily, it doesn’t have to be a permanent one.”
Darius nodded. “Ean’s right. You can always change your mind.”
“Just don’t wait as long as I did.” Ean thought back to New York. “It took seven years to realize I may have made a good career decision, but it was at the cost of things and people who were a lot more important than my career.”
The three friends were silent as they watched the Browns run several plays against the Bears. The Browns struggled against the Bears’ defense, though, and had to punt. Ean was only partially aware of the on-screen action. His mind still processed his regrets—the lost time with his parents, the near loss of a lifelong friendship. How different would his life be today if he’d put those relationships above his ambition and stayed in Trinity Falls?
Darius clamped a hand on Ean’s shoulder. “Who would’ve thought all those years ago when you were planning to become a hot-shot corporate lawyer in the Big Apple, you’d return to hang a shingle in the Trinity Falls Town Center?” Darius’s jovial smile didn’t mask the concern in his eyes.
Ean slapped the reporter’s back. “Here I have my friends and family, as well as my career.”
Darius gestured for their server to bring another round of beer. “How long do you think your shingle will remain up?”
That was a sore subject with Ean. “I don’t know. It depends on what happens with the center.”
Quincy selected a buffalo wing from his basket. “The election isn’t for another year. And even if your mother wins, she won’t take office for another two months. That’s a long time.”
Darius grunted. “In the meantime, Ramona could sell the center out from under the business owners, and some other evil overlord could jack up the rent again.”
Quincy frowned across the booth at Darius. “Ramona’s not an evil overlord.”
Darius gave the professor a wide-eyed look. “Did I say, ‘Ramona is the evil overlord’? You’re too sensitive.”
Ean ignored his friends’ exchange. “I think the best solution is for the business owners to buy the center ourselves.”
Darius’s brows knitted. “I thought they’d already considered and rejected that plan.”
“They wanted everyone to put in an equal share, and not everyone could afford to.” Ean rubbed the back of his neck.
“And that bothers you.” Quincy made it a statement.
Actually, he thought the business owners’ objections were ridiculous. “What does it matter if someone puts in twice as much money as I do and gets a bigger vote? We all have the goal of preserving the center.”
“The bottom line is you need a buyer.” Darius waved a buffalo wing. “But the association doesn’t trust the new owners to have their interests in mind.”
“I can’t blame them.” Quincy received another beer from their young server.
“Neither can I.” Ean thanked the server as he accepted his mug.
Darius winked at the young woman as he exchanged his empty mug for the full one. “The solution is obvious.”
Quincy sighed. “Do you want to share it with the rest of us, Obi-Wan?”
Darius chuckled at Quincy’s Star Wars reference. “Ean should get some of his fat-cat friends to invest in the center with him.”
Ean was intrigued. “The other business owners wouldn’t want outsiders to own the center.” He was thinking specifically of Megan.
“You’re not an outsider.” Darius dropped the remnants of another wing into the bowl. “As long as you’re at least an equal partner, the association would trust you to look after their interests.”
Quincy sat back in his booth seat. “I hate to say it—I really do—but his idea makes sense.”
“It does.” Ean’s pulse kicked up. He slapped Darius’s back again. “Let’s hope I can pull it off.”
He knew just the men to whom he should present his proposal. It would feel good to use his former law firm’s resources to help the little guys for once.