In Good Company

He shook his head. “I meant when we were in high school.”

“So you finally figured out who I am,” she said, hostility lacing her words.

“I remembered you.” He recognized her Yeah-right expression and added, “After Mrs. Farris told me Preston is your married name.”

“Hmm.”

“I treated you badly—”

“It’s water over the bridge. Or under the dam. Or whatever. It was a long time ago,” she said stiffly.

“It was,” he agreed. “I was hoping we could put it behind us and start again.” Des studied her, the slight pucker in the otherwise smooth skin of her forehead.

She met his gaze directly and her green eyes darkened. “I don’t think so.”

It had been too much to hope that she didn’t know he’d made a deal with her father to pay attention to her. It would take several Dr. Phils to sort out the psychological fallout from that. All things considered, Des didn’t blame her for not making this easy, but the Molly he’d known years ago probably would have. When he’d started paying attention to her, he’d been playing a part, but her sweetness and sassy sense of humor had won him over. He’d liked her a lot. Oddly, he liked this tougher Molly, too.

“It was a long time ago but obviously you’re still upset.”

“About the past?” She folded her arms over her chest as she leaned against the doorjamb.

“Yeah. The part where I was young and stupid.” He braced himself for her to blast him about pretending feelings for her.

“How innocuous that sounds. Why should it still bother me that you stood me up? Or maybe you’re referring to the fact that I saw you kissing Kelli Arnold at the movie you were supposed to take me to.”

“I handled it badly. I was going away to college and figured a quick break was better. Like pulling off a bandage. It hurts for a second, then it’s over.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“Young and stupid is no excuse for your behavior,” she said.

“I agree. But with age comes wisdom and…” He flashed his trademark grin, the one women seemed to respond to. “And, hopefully, redemption.”

Her gaze narrowed on him. “You really think I’m upset about what happened in high school?”

Correction: most women. He didn’t see any let up in the mad Molly had going on. The good news was, she didn’t seem to know her father had bribed him to date her. If she did, nothing would have stopped her from listing it in her grievances against him. Now that he thought about it, why would Carter Richmond admit to something so slimy and underhanded? That secret was safe.

“You have every right to be upset.”

She shook her head as if he were the dumbest person on the planet. “Oh, please.”

Okay. Now he was confused. If she wasn’t in a snit about his high school transgressions, what was her problem? Maybe it was time to admit defeat and throw himself on her mercy. “Okay, then I give up. What’s bugging you?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.” She rolled her eyes. “May I call you Polly?”

Suddenly the “aha” light went on. This was easy. Time to turn up the amps on his charm. But as he looked into her big green eyes and that flawless face, he found he didn’t need charm. All he needed was the truth.

“You’re ticked off because I didn’t recognize you.”

“Bingo.”

“It was an honest mistake. And there’s a really good reason. You’ve changed, Molly.”

“Not that much.”

“Yeah, that much. And more. You’ve lost your baby fat.”

“How diplomatic of you to phrase it that way. No more mega-Molly?”

“I never called you that.”

“To my face,” she challenged.

“Or behind your back. And there’s something else. Your glasses are gone. No offense, Molly, you’re a knockout now. But you have to admit, in high school you wouldn’t have won any beauty contests.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Then why did you hang out with me?”

Uh-oh. Now he was on thin ice. He couldn’t tell her the truth. What she had on him was bad enough and he hoped she’d never find out the rest—for her sake, and because he wasn’t the same person he’d been back then, someone desperate for a way out of Charity City.

And that was when it hit him. The woman he’d fallen in love with, the one he’d thought loved him back, was just as shallow as the person he used to be. Wasn’t that just a healthy dose of poetic justice! But he couldn’t tell Molly any of that.

Once again, honesty was the best policy. “I hung out with you because you were smart and funny. And sweet.” It hadn’t started out that way, but eventually it had become the truth.

“Ah, the old you-have-a-great-personality defense.”

“It’s true. At least, it was then. I’m not so sure now.”

She pushed off the doorjamb and looked at him skeptically. “You’re telling me that Des O’Donnell, big man on campus who could have had any girl he wanted, hung out with me because he liked me?”

“In a nutshell? Yeah,” he said.

“I find that hard to believe. Teenage boys are notoriously shallow. You’re no longer a teenage boy,” she said, swallowing as her gaze dropped to the center of his chest. “But I suspect you haven’t changed much.”

“We haven’t seen each other in years. You know nothing about the person I am now. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?” he asked, resting his hands on his hips.

“Leopards don’t change their spots.”

“That’s not true.” He thought about his words and said, “Technically it’s true. But your implication that I couldn’t have changed is wrong.”

“Depends on whose truth you’re talking about. Mine is that you’re the same self-centered, egotistical person you were in high school.”

“And you’re not willing to give me the benefit of the doubt?”

“I don’t think so. You’ve already revealed your character to me. Going back for seconds isn’t especially bright. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

“Speaking of character, I’m not in the habit of inviting married women to dinner. I said that before I found out you’re not single.”