Page 4 of Moonlighter

Unfortunately, that’s been a theme this year. I’ve made so many mistakes that I’ve lost count.

One of those errors is leaning back in his chair, his handsome face lifted toward mine, hesitation in his intelligent gray eyes. Eric Bayer is one of the more attractive men I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. Too bad all that raw, masculine beauty addled me so badly this spring that I failed to recognize him.

“How’ve you been, Alex?” he asks calmly.

“Um…” That useless non-word just sort of hangs over the gleaming conference table. I never sayum. I’m an industry leader. I’m as comfortable at a lectern in front of a full auditorium as I am in my own living room. And I’ve been responding politely to small talk since I was a toddler.

But today? All I’ve got isum.

Carl Bayer chuckles. “Alex needs our help, or she wouldn’t be here right now,” he says, stepping in to smooth things over. “But Eric doesn’t know your story. I promised you complete discretion. So I needed to get both of you in a room before I said a word about it. How long has it been since you two saw each other? Twenty years?”

“Twenty-one,” I blurt out before I can think better of it. “Except…”

“…We saw each other in April,” he says smoothly. “But only for a split second.”

“Only for a split second,” I echo. “And I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t recognize Eric.”

“Really?” His brother Max laughs.

“Really,” I say with a sigh, hoping Eric believes me. And now I’m even more embarrassed, because when the two are side by side, the resemblance is obvious. I’ve known Max for a few years, since I hired him to handle my corporate security.

And I’d known in a vague way that Eric had become a professional athlete. But I didn’t anticipate seeing him at that Brooklyn Bruisers benefit in Florida.

“It was no big deal,” Eric says quietly.

I shoot him a grateful glance. I’ll have to find a moment to finally apologize. It’s not clear to me why he’s here, anyway. Unless he’s just a big fan of tacos and visiting his family while he’s on vacation?

“Sorry I’m late!”

We all turn at the sound of a female voice. Scout enters the room carrying a big box with a popular taco truck’s label on the side. “Hey Alex! I hope you’re hungry. I bought some of everything they had.”

My stomach growls at the first whiff of spicy pork. Lately I’m starving all the time. And the scent of cumin and chilis is almost more than I can bear.

“Excellent work, as always,” Max says.

Scout isn’t his assistant, though. She’s his lead investigator. “Here, Max. Make yourself useful.” She tosses him a stack of plates to distribute. “Alex, chicken, pork or steak?”

“Yes.”

Scout laughs. “Fair enough.” She pulls three wrapped tacos from the box and hands them over to me. “And Eric? Shame about game seven.”

He sighs. “I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

“See that, guys? Eric is pleasant and biddable. Everyone be more like Eric.”

“He’s pleasant toyoumaybe,” Max chuckles. “He ignores me.”

“So do I, though,” Scout says.

While the others continue to bicker and dole out the lunch, I take my plate and move around the table to sit next to Eric. “Hi,” I say lightly, giving him a friendly smile. As if it could make up for the obnoxious thing I said to him in April.

As if.

“Hi yourself,” he rumbles. Then he unwraps a taco and ignores me.

Ah, well. I guess three or four months isn’t enough time to get over a bruised ego. I was the host of a beautiful party on a beautiful beach. But I was distraught that night. I’d recently learned that I was pregnant, which should have been joyous news. Except—and this still shames me—I wasn’t sure who the father was.

That’s been settled now. But in April I was a total wreck. It was the first time in my life that I’d made such a serious error of judgment and planning. And instead of curling up in a ball like I’d wanted to, I’d had to smile my way through a black tie party for charity.