The Man She Knew. Loree Lough

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СКАЧАТЬ and a slightly longer exchange on the night the woman hostessed Kent’s holiday party. “A very pleasant, efficient lady.”

      “Yes, she is.”

      Maleah tucked the clipboard under her arm. “Thanks, Darcy. Need anything? Water? Soft drink?”

      “I’m good, but thanks.”

      Maleah walked away wondering if Terri knew about Ian’s background. Surely not, or she wouldn’t allow her special needs son to spend so much time alone with him.

      What do you care? It’s none of your business.

      Fortunately, in her capacity as Assistant PR director of the banquet, Maleah could delegate any tasks or activities that might require her to work with him directly...or reject him as a volunteer.

      A deep booming voice interrupted her thoughts. “Maleah! Just the person I was looking for.”

      Stan Howard, generous donor to Washburne and personal friend of the director, said, “There’s somebody here I’d like you to meet.”

      His ear-piercing whistle turned every head within her line of sight. The blast must have alerted his intended target, because he smiled and waved. Maleah, too short to see over others’ heads, waited for Stan’s “someone” to appear.

      “Don’t look so nervous. You’re gonna love this guy. Everybody does. He’s real easygoing, and no matter how menial the task, he gives it his all.”

      “Haven’t met a Washburne volunteer that I didn’t like.” Yet...

      He took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Fair warning...at first he appears a little rough around the edges, and you might hear some rumors, but trust me, not a one of ’em is true.”

      “What kind of rumors?”

      “Spent a few years in the slammer. Poor guy served his time and cleaned up his act. He deserves a break. But you know how judgmental people can be.” He pointed. “Speak of the devil... Ian, hey, good to see you, buddy! This is the li’l beauty I was telling you about. You’ll answer to her while you’re working on the gala.” Stan smiled at Maleah. “Maleah Turner, meet Ian Sylvestry.”

      “Pleased to meet you.”

      She gave his extended hand a quick shake-and-release. “Likewise.”

      “So where do we start, boss?”

      “I’m not sure yet. Let me talk with a few of the event chairs and see what they need help with.” She focused on Stan. “You have his contact information?”

      “Well yeah.” Stan gave her a sidelong glance. “But so do you.” He looked at Ian. “It’s on your registration form. Right?”

      He answered with a nod, then tacked on, “It’s a requirement of anyone volunteering to work with—or around—kids.”

      “And you passed the background test?”

      “And I passed the background test.”

      His voice, last time she’d heard it, had been shaky and almost timid. Not so anymore. Given the opportunity, he could easily find work recording voice-over commercials or substitute for a radio DJ instead of Avery Hudson’s stand-in dad. His “I’m meeting you for the first time” act was flawless, too, a talent no doubt honed at Lincoln. A slight shiver zipped up her spine: What else had he learned there?

      Stan gave Ian’s shoulder a brotherly squeeze. “This place is a madhouse.” He drew Ian and Maleah closer in a three-way hug. “So here’s what you two are going to do...” The only thing separating them was Stan’s ponderous belly. That, and years of artificial indifference. Ian’s dark eyes bored into hers, exactly the way he had when they were younger—and in love.

      Quiet laughter rumbled from Stan’s chest. “You’re going to leave here, right now, for someplace quiet. So you can discuss how best to put Ian to use. He’s a talented artist, and knows his way around a kitchen, too.”

      He leaned forward to glance at his wristwatch, and in the process, moved Maleah closer still to Ian.

      “What time does your place close on Sunday nights?”

      Ian’s voice was guarded when he said, “Six.”

      “Why so early?”

      “Most of my employees are married, with kids. Tomorrow is a school day.”

      So Ian hadn’t been a guest at the bistro on the night of Kent’s party? He owned it?

      Stan winked at Maleah. “See there? Didn’t I tell you he was a good guy?”

      He didn’t give her a chance to respond. Instead, Stan released her, then Ian.

      “Here’s an idea... I’ll have my driver take you over there. You can take a look at his paintings, maybe even get a bite of his famous cheesecake.” He gestured, bringing their attention to the crowd. “Lord knows you can’t make plans here.”

      “Plans?” Maleah echoed.

      He looked at her as if she’d grown a second nose.

      “Finding out which of your volunteers is best suited to do what needs doing, of course.” He chuckled. “You’re pullin’ my leg, aren’t you?” And looking at Ian, Stan added, “This gal has pulled off some of the best functions I’ve ever attended.”

      He frowned as an announcement crackled through the overhead speakers.

      “See what I mean? You can’t make any good decisions with all this going on. So how about it? Can I have my driver run you over there?”

      “Curious as I am to see the inside of that presidential-looking SUV of yours, I rode my Harley,” Ian said. “I need to balance the checkbook. And I haven’t made up next week’s schedule yet.” Eyes on Maleah, he added, “The bistro is closed on Mondays. Maybe tomorrow, when you get off work?”

      She didn’t want to be alone with him, not tomorrow, not ever. But Stan and the facility director had been college roommates. Rejecting his idea was the equivalent to an insult, to him and her boss.

      “We don’t need a face-to-face meeting, Stan. That’s what telephones and email and text messages are for.”

      Stan waved the idea away. “Later, maybe, once you’ve got things nailed down. But I didn’t get where I am by taking the easy way out during the planning phases of any project.” He looked from Maleah to Ian and back again. “Neither of you strikes me as the type to take shortcuts.”

      His challenge hung in the air between them. From the look on Ian’s face, Maleah realized Stan’s pull extended beyond facilities like Washburne.

      Another notice blared from the overhead speakers.

      Ian winced. “You make a good point, Stan, but so does Ms. Turner. We can accomplish a lot through texts and emails.”

      “Nonsense.”

      His СКАЧАТЬ