A Trusting Heart (3 page)

“And now the moment you’ve been waiting for. The most popular girl now, would have to be . . . Brooke Truman! Brooke works as a flight attendant for Delta Airlines and assures us that she does indeed have a boyfriend in every port. Come on down, Brooke, and stand by the winners.”

As everyone’s attention switched to the stage, Megan felt herself relax. No one was staring at her anymore, no one cared what she did for a living or if she did stay home every night. She smiled. She had lost the contest and she couldn’t be more relieved. At least they hadn’t asked her to walk up on stage in front of everyone. Now that would have killed her.

“Now, this last category is one we just made up at the last minute, but I think you’ll agree with us when you hear what it is. The most unrecognizable classmate. Now, there was no way we could vote on this ten years ago, but we’ll throw in the carriage ride anyway if Megan Garrett wouldn’t mind taking a walk down memory lane. Come on down, sweetheart, and let us all have a better look at you.”

Megan felt her skin turn to ice and her eyelids freeze to her eyeballs. She forced herself to move her uncooperative limbs as she stumbled towards the lobby. What a fool she had been! Even after she’d been spotlighted, she had stayed, lurking in the doorway. That was it. Her parents were right: she was crazy.

“There she goes, boys! After her!”

Megan began a full-on sprint after hearing the announcer’s words. What was this, a fox hunt? Could she sue for public humiliation? Megan threw her keys at the valet attendant and ran outside to stand behind a pillar. Thirty long seconds passed. Come on! How hard could it be to find an El Camino amongst all of the Ford Expeditions and Lincoln Navigators? The cool wind of the night soothed her red cheeks as she stood there with her hands clenched at her side. Why anyone ever showed up to reunions was beyond her.

“Megan, please come back inside. It will be worse if you don’t. You have to face down your enemy. Running only drags it out. Trust me.”

Megan peeked from behind the pillar where she was hiding.

It was Brenna.

“Don’t make me do this, Brenna,” Megan pleaded. “I can’t handle this right now. You didn’t hear how Dylan embarrassed me in front of all of those people in there. And then Trevor—can you believe he kissed me? I really don’t enjoy crying in front of crowds, so if you’ll just tell the valet to hurry for me, I will be eternally grateful.”

Brenna walked slowly around the pillar, as if she were cornering a wild animal, and held out her hand.

“Dylan has a bet for five hundred dollars going around that you’ll chicken out. I’m almost positive he’s the one who put the reunion committee up to the extra category. Let’s go back inside, Megan. Just think about how small Dylan is going to feel when he has to ask Daddy for a loan to cover all of his bets. I made Jack bet against him, and Jack doesn’t bet. Come on, we’re using our kids’ college funds.”

Megan felt the blood swimming in her veins and the steel returning to her spine. Dylan was betting on her, as if she were a dog at the races. Fine, she wouldn’t mind ruining his night and his bank account, even if she did feel like the main attraction in a freak show.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Brenna put her arm protectively around Megan’s shoulders as she escorted her through the now quiet groups of people and to the steps leading onto the stage.

Just thinking of Brenna’s kids working at Taco Bell to support themselves through school had Megan forcing a smile onto her stiff face. She repeated the words, “This too shall pass” over and over in her mind as a mantra while she was escorted to the line of “winners.”

“Thank you, Brenna, for tracking Megan down for us. It usually helps to have the after picture to go along with the before. It’s not very fun otherwise. All right, now who out there recognized our own little Megan when she walked in the door tonight? Now be honest! Anyone? No? I didn’t think so.”

Megan moved her eyes over the crowd, relieved that Dylan had kept his hand down. He had recognized her immediately. Why was that? Megan turned her head a fraction and noticed they hadn’t been satisfied with her yearbook picture and had picked a shot of her doing a back flip off a pyramid of other cheerleaders. She actually liked the shot, except for the fact that her behind took up most of the picture. Megan blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. Why hadn’t she just promised to send Brenna’s kids a check in the mail, postdated fifteen years?

Standing beside her, Trevor whispered, “Don’t let them get to you. Just picture yourself at The Roof, stuffing your face with grilled salmon and crème brulée, while everyone else is eating leftover Tuna Helper.”

Megan frowned suspiciously at Trevor. How did he know that was what she’d had last night for dinner? And why was he being so nice to her? Megan winced as she looked at his face, the cheek she had slapped was still noticeably reddened. The kiss really hadn’t been that bad. She almost regretted slapping him. But not quite.

“All right, folks. It’s the time you’ve all been waiting for.

Let’s all get our checkbooks out, because it’s time to spend some money! I personally know of a couple guys right off the top of my head that would have killed to dance with Taffie in high school. Myself included. Wives and girlfriends, just turn your heads and think of all the nice new textbooks the kids will be getting. Here’s your chance, boys. Who will start me off with one hundred dollars?”

Megan wasn’t surprised Taffie went for a thousand dollars.

On the other hand, she would be very surprised if she went for more than twenty-five cents. The announcer went through the line quickly, selling off Trevor for a measly fifty bucks.

“Now, last of all, our captain of the cheerleaders. Is there anyone out there who has waited ten years to dance with Megan Garrett? Dylan’s not around to fight everyone off this time. Who will start me off with one hundred dollars? All right, all right. Fifty?”

Megan closed her eyes in agony as the ballroom became completely quiet. If she wrote a check for herself, would they let her go home?

“I’ll give you five thousand dollars for a dance with Megan.” Megan choked as her eyes shot open. What idiot . . . ? Trevor? The announcer looked taken aback, but was obviously pleased by the amount bid.

“Trust me, I would love to accept your bid, but you’re already taken. Our own Ms. Wilburn, who, by the way, still teaches art at Jefferson High School, has already given us a check for your time.”

Trevor turned to catch Megan’s eye and winked at her.

Megan was too shocked to do anything but stare back stupidly.

“If it’s all the same to you, I would actually prefer to collect my dance at a later time. I wouldn’t miss dancing with Ms. Wilburn for anything.”

Applause filled the ballroom. Megan found her mouth twitching at the charming way Trevor had handled the problem. She was free.

She wanted to thank Trevor for bidding on her, but he had already been claimed by Ms. Wilburn. Since there was really nothing keeping her at the reunion, she collected her gift certificate and did what she had been aching all night to do. She left.

Two

TREVOR WAS STUNNED. He had assumed she would wait for him. He shook his head as the valet went to get his rental car. She had taken off just like Cinderella, but hadn’t even had the courtesy to leave him a shoe. Or her phone number, for that matter. He leaned up against a pillar and pictured her in his mind again. Megan. He could hardly believe it was her. She had transformed herself from every teenage boy’s wildest dream into a sophisticated man’s vision of a perfect woman. Who’d have ever guessed that under all the hairspray, blond curls, blue contact lenses, and risque clothes, she was a classic beauty? That’s the word that fit her now. Classy. Trevor smiled. She was just what he had been looking for.

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice that sounded as frustrated as he felt. “What is the matter with you? The party has just started, and there’ll be dancing for another few hours. Let go of me! I don’t want to go home, Dylan.”

Trevor moved back towards the wall so he wouldn’t be noticed. This could be interesting.

“She ruined it. She ruined everything. I can’t go back in there. Besides, all those guys are going to want their money. Do you want to be the one to tell them we’re broke? You’ve spent every last dime we had. There’s no way I can pay off everyone. Uh uh. We’re long gone.”

Trevor leaned forward and saw Taffie with her arms folded across her chest and a fighting look in her eyes. He smiled, anticipating what she would say to her husband.

“Well, I’m not going home. I’m staying, and if anyone comes up to me looking for you, I’ll be as nice as can be and give them your cell number. I told you to leave her alone, but you can’t, can you? It’s pathetic how obsessed you are even after eight years. She made her choice, Dylan. It wasn’t you. It will never be you. I’m your wife. If you spent half as much time thinking about me as you do her, I’d be in heaven. Don’t worry about how I’ll get home. I’ll find a ride.”

With that, she flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder and walked quickly back to the ballroom.
Ouch!
Trevor eased away from the wall, just enough to be seen. It seemed as if the pot was getting ready to boil and he didn’t mind sticking his spoon in for a little stir.

“Great party, huh?” he drawled, giving Dylan a lazy smile. Dylan flinched noticeably, turning to glare at Trevor.

“Is that how you made your millions, eavesdropping? A little insider trading? You always were a sneaky son-of-a . . . ”

Trevor’s eyebrows raised slightly. He would freely admit he had been eavesdropping, but he would never have described himself as
sneaky
. He decided to ignore that little jab and dish out one of his own.

“Didn’t Megan look beautiful tonight, Dylan? I was just about knocked off my feet. And what a kisser! Why anyone would let someone like her get away is beyond me. What on earth were you thinking, Dylan?”

Dylan sneered at Trevor and turned to walk away, but suddenly found himself face to face with Trevor.

“If you ever harass Megan again, you’ll regret it. Do you understand me?”

Dylan’s eyes narrowed and he took a step backwards as he threw a hard right at Trevor. Moving back and automatically blocking the first swing, Trevor ducked the second and went into a defensive position, waiting. Dylan stood, breathing hard with his fists clenched, not sure what to do next. Trevor nodded his head to something behind Dylan.

“Dylan, I think your friends are looking for you.”

Dylan turned to see who Trevor was talking about and saw a group of unsmiling men he had made the ill-fated bet with.

“Don’t forget what I just said about Megan. I’m going to be watching out for her now. Remember that.”

Trevor turned and took his keys from the shocked young valet, who wasn’t too shocked not to smile at the tip.

Driving away from the hotel, Trevor headed up the canyon to a secluded and private cabin he was borrowing from a friend. He thought about what had happened at his ten-year reunion and laughed. He laughed so hard he had to pull over to the side of the road until he regained control. Here he was, acting like a complete teenager. A macho one at that. If his mother had seen him, she would have dragged him out of the hotel by his ear. He had always had the urge to protect Megan and he had finally gotten his chance. Trevor laughed again as he realized he was acting out his teenage fantasies. Man, he needed therapy. It would serve him right if Megan was hiding a very large, very possessive boyfriend somewhere. Trevor reached for his phone and punched a button that automatically dialed his personal secretary.

“Blaine? . . . Yeah, it was great. Hey listen, take this down. Megan Garrett. She lives somewhere in Utah County, I think. Find out everything you can on her. Have it to me by tomorrow morning. Got it? Thanks.”

Trevor hit the gas, continuing on his way. He couldn’t stop smiling. He was always happiest when he was on the brink of a new project. And, though Megan Garrett didn’t realize it, she had just become Trevor Riley’s next project.

Three

MEGAN LOOKED OUT THE garden window in her kitchen. She felt so calm and peaceful that she never wanted to leave the house again. Bad things happened when you did. Megan shook her head and smiled at the thought, then gasped as her border collie attacked her weeping cherry tree. Megan tried hard not to think some very uncharitable thoughts about her dog, Marjorie. So instead of daydreaming of taking her dog to the pound, she grabbed her scriptures and headed out the door. It was Fast Sunday and she didn’t want to be late. Hearing everyone’s testimonies was her favorite part of church. Not that she’d ever had the guts to get up and bear hers, but she knew someday she would. Just not yet.

Megan turned to lock her front door, pausing to look over the house, her one and only extravagance. She had driven by the house one day, seen the “For Sale” sign, and had immediately fallen in love. Being thirty thousand dollars below appraisal hadn’t hurt either. Yes, it had needed a few repairs. Like a million. But the simple charm of the old house had caught her imagination. Growing up, Megan had either lived with her parents or with roommates in cramped apartments, but this was her home. The red brick, dormer windows, chimney, and half-acre lot had seemed to call out to her. And she had answered back, using all of the money in her savings for a down payment. Dylan had been furious with her at the time, wasting her money on a house that he refused to live in. He had been set on an exclusive condo close to school so he could finish up his degree. It was the one thing she refused to budge on.

But even with a huge down payment, she still had a monster of a mortgage. She’d thought at the time she could easily handle it considering the substantial salary she had been earning working for Dylan’s uncle at Royden, Powell, and Associates as the executive secretary. Sadly, she was laid off from that fine establishment right after she dumped Dylan. Surprise, surprise. She had since found that her love for houses had translated nicely into joining the real estate game.