A Sinclair Homecoming

Mona nodded, solemn. “I understand. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have but I am in a pickle.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re always in a pickle, Mona. That’s nothing new.” Morgan couldn’t help the frustration in her voice. “Why was it so important that you get into this gallery? I’m sure you could’ve gotten into a dozen other galleries on your own steam.”

“You have no idea how cutthroat it is out there in the art world. It’s all about who you know, not just about your art. You have to network and Facebook and Twitter and mingle and do all these things that I don’t want to bother with. I just want to get my work on the walls of somebody’s gallery without constantly kissing ass to make it happen. It’s exhausting. Who has time to actually make art if you’re so busy mingling?”

“Yes, the world has been taken over by social media,” she mused in agreement. Remy lived on Facebook, often when he should be working. His excuse was that without his involvement in social media, Morgan would never know what was going on in the world. She sighed and asked, “Why was this gallery so important?”

“Well, I was hoping this one particular art critic would take a liking to my work and possibly feature me in this magazine for artists. But as it turned out, my style wasn’t her cup of tea so she didn’t write something very flattering about my work.”

“So basically you traded me for no gain?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that at the time. Besides, you need to get out more. Life is about more than just work and sleep.”

“What am I going to do with you?” Morgan buried her head in her hands. “You make it so hard to be on your side sometimes.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Well, at least Mona didn’t dispute that fact. “I hate to cut this visit short but I’m pretty tired. I have an early client tomorrow morning and I still have notes to go over.”

Mona nodded and then gestured at the cheese plate. “You mind if I take this with me? Kind of ‘ramened out’ right now. I could use some protein.”

Morgan nodded. “Yes, take the cheese and crackers. Would you like to look in my pantry to see if there’s anything else you’d like to take home?”

Mona allowed a tiny smile. “If you wouldn’t mind...”

“I don’t mind.” She stood and hugged her sister. “Just leave me the chocolate chip cookies. Anything else is fair game.”

“You’re the best. I really mean that.” Mona kissed Morgan on the cheek. “I really hope that you meet someone as great as David again. You deserve it.”

Morgan’s smile froze but she managed to nod. “Well, we’ll see.”

Good God, would fate be that cruel? It was the one thing Morgan feared more than anything.

Please, don’t let anyone like David in my life ever again.

Perhaps it was her sister’s talk about dating or maybe she was just tired after a long day but Wade popped into her thoughts, momentarily blotting out David.

If she were looking to date—and he wasn’t her patient’s son—Wade might be the kind of man she’d like to enjoy an evening out with. Strong, smart and ruggedly handsome, Wade was a man who would make any woman take a second look. She withheld a wistful sigh when she reluctantly allowed reality to intrude. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t trust the knowledge of her past with anyone, much less a potential date. She had to protect her public persona at all costs. There was no way she was going to allow David—or the threat of his influence—to derail another moment in her life. Was it lonely? At times. But then she remembered the pain, the humiliation, and the fear of living with David, and suddenly, being lonely wasn’t that bad.

So dating? Not even a blip on her radar.

Which meant Wade—that hunky mountain of sexy potential—would remain forever out of reach for her.

But a girl could dream, right?

As long as dreams never became a reality.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“SO TELL ME about California,” he heard his sister say before she stuffed a bite of her steak into her mouth. He realized he’d only been listening with half an ear to his sister’s conversation and he grimaced when she realized the same. She graced him with a scowl that he deserved and he started to apologize but she cut him off. “Come on, you have to at least make an effort, Wade. I’m trying to do eight years of catching up within one dinner, all the while trying to steer clear of topics that are triggers for us both, and you’re making me do all the work. At least make the effort, okay?”

“I’m sorry, sis. I’m being a jerk. There’s a lot of stuff running around in my head.”

She nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I get it. Being home is hard after a long time away, I would imagine.”

“Nothing’s changed,” he said, allowing his stare to wander the small steakhouse. “I remember our parents used to take us here on special occasions.”

“Which wasn’t very often because feeding four carnivore kids steak dinners was hard on the pocketbook,” Miranda quipped around her next bite.

He smiled. “I always loved this place, though. Made me feel important whenever we came to eat here.”

“Important? Why?”

He chuckled at his nostalgia. “Because when it first opened it seemed all the bigwigs ate here. I remember Mayor Gibbons used to eat here all the time and the Masons used to gather here for their monthly meetings.” He shrugged when he realized his own childish reasoning didn’t actually make much sense. He returned to her original question. “California is good. I’m very happy. My job is very fulfilling and I can’t wait to get back.”

“Wow, impersonal much? I’m not interviewing you for a job position. Relax. I want to know about the real California. I mean, Delainey’s told me a few things about Los Angeles but you’re on opposite ends of the state, way up in the mountains. I’m sure that’s gotta be different.”

“It’s vastly different. I personally don’t care for Los Angeles. I’ve had to go there a few times for meetings with other federal park officials but I much prefer my neck of the woods. You ought to come visit sometime, and bring Talen and Jeremiah. Speaking of Jeremiah...when do I get to meet this guy?”

“Oh, now you want to be the big brother?” she teased. “You’ll meet him. Don’t worry. You do plan to come to the wedding, right?”

He didn’t want to make promises but he’d sound like a real jerk if he didn’t agree to come to his sister’s wedding. “Of course, if I can get the time off. I’m using up a lot of my banked personal time right now for this impromptu trip.”

“Right. Well, you have some time to pencil that date in so I’m not too worried. What do you think of Morgan O’Hare?” she asked, somehow zeroing in on the topic that he’d just been thinking about when he’d zoned out. “You probably don’t remember her from school but she actually knew Simone. Well, not her, exactly, but her sister.”

“That’s not saying much. I think everyone knew Simone.”

“That’s true. She did have a way about her, huh?” Miranda paused and then said, “This whole situation with Mom has hammered home the fact that none of us has really dealt with Simone’s death. It doesn’t seem right that it’s been eight years and yet none of us has accepted the fact that it wasn’t our fault.”

He shifted in discomfort. He hated talking about Simone. “Not to be rude but I’ve moved on just fine. I miss her every day. She was a great kid but like you said, it’s been eight years. It’s time to move on.”

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you have not been home since she died,” Miranda pointed out gently. “I think we all know why you’ve stayed away.”

“I thought we were going to avoid touchy subjects?” he reminded her with a slight smile. He didn’t want to pick a fight with his sister over dinner. And he also didn’t want to talk about the things that kept him up at night. “Do you think Morgan O’Hare can be objective in Mom’s case? I know she was assigned the case by APS but I wonder if we can make an appeal to get someone else, maybe someone from another town to do the evaluation.”