Shattered Heart: The Donnellys, Book 3 (9 page)

As much as he could for the rest of the time he was in town even.

Chapter Fifteen

Af
ter Cyn read the text from Carlos, she slid her phone in her back pocket. It was the fourth one she’d gotten from him that morning. With a hard shove, she pushed the emotions poking her insides like a pin away, and sorted through a stack of catering menus in the client planning room of her small office. She hadn’t replied to her ex, didn’t intend to, but good grief, he was laying it on thicker than peanut butter.

After picking three menus for her client to choose from, she gathered the various options for table settings. Cyn eyed the clock; her client was running late but would be there any minute. She didn’t have time to deal with Carlos and his “I love you’s” and “I miss you’s”. The only person he loved was himself. Selfish bastard. Cyn shook her head right as the bell on the front door jingled, letting her know someone had walked in.

Cyn walked to the reception area to greet her client. “You ready to get—”

“Hi, baby.”

Cyn stopped short, somehow managing to school her features. “What do you want, Carlos?”

“Baby, I want to talk.”

She crossed her arms. He looked good, as usual. White dress shirt, pale peach tie and slim-fitting gray slacks. His dark hair was groomed to its normal perfection. And his expensive cologne somehow managed to ooze across the small distance separating them and funnel through her airway.
Shit.
She had always loved that particular scent on him. The bastard knew it too. “Well, I don’t want to talk to you.”

He took a step closer. “You read my texts?”

“Yep.” Cyn moved behind the reception desk, needing some sort of separation between them. He was going to try and convince her, like he always had when he fucked up, to come back to him. There wasn’t a chance in hell she’d go back to him again, but Cyn didn’t entirely trust herself either. Bad habits could be hard to break, and Carlos had been just that. A bad habit.

He moved to the counter in front of the desk separating them and rested his forearms on it. “You haven’t answered.”

Cyn flipped through the pages of the schedule book wishing her assistant hadn’t taken the day off. “Nope.”

He sighed and adjusted the cufflink on the end of his sleeve. “How about lunch? Can we talk then?”

Cyn let out a sigh. “What part of ‘I don’t want to talk’ wasn’t clear?”

He jerked his head back and a frown creased his brow. “Come on, baby. You can’t be serious.” He reached for her arm but Cyn jerked away.

“Oh believe me, Carlos, I am
beyond
serious. And quit calling me baby. Last I saw, you’d found someone else you can use that endearment on. Save it for her.”

“Come on, Cyn. I’m done with her. You know I love you. And I miss you.”

The office door opened and, praise the heavens, her client walked in. She peeked around Carlos. “Hey there, Mr. Bowden. Glad you finally made it.”

“So sorry about that, Cynthia. Traffic was horrible.” Her client shifted the binder he held from one hand to the other. “Did you need a minute?”

“Nope. All ready to go.” A smile pasted on her face, she focused on Carlos. “Thanks for stopping by. So sorry you misunderstood. I won’t need any more samples.”

Carlos looked back and forth between her and her client, before shaking his head. “Let me know if you change your mind.” He rapped his knuckles on the counter, turned and left the building.

Cyn swallowed, forcing the lump that’d risen down her throat and turned her attention from the office door to her waiting client. “Ready?”

Mr. Bowden tilted his head to the side. “Why do I feel like I just interrupted something?”

Because you did, but I’m so glad you did.
“Not at all. Let’s get your final details locked down for your event.” She smiled and motioned him toward the client room.

“Sure thing.” He nodded with a smile of his own and moved to the room.

Cyn followed, beyond grateful he’d shown when he did. Carlos had come loaded for bear, and although she knew things had changed on her end, she really hadn’t been prepared to deal with him.

It wasn’t that her feelings for him were gone…but, maybe they were. She thought about it as her client sorted through the various options she’d set out for his corporate event. Carlos had done one hell of a number on her heart and mind over the last year—slowly extinguishing the flame of feelings she’d once had for him. Once those were gone, she’d been left with only physical desire but over the last several months, he’d killed that inside of her too.

“I think I like this table setting best,” her client said.

Cyn cleared her throat. “That one works, Mr. Bowden.” She noted it on the order form. “Twenty-five tables, right?”

“Yes. And, please, call me Josh.”

“All right.” She glanced up. He was smiling at her and she nodded. “Josh.” Cyn eyed the menus. “What about food?”

With his arms crossed on the table top, he leaned toward her. “Which do
you
think is best?”

“Well, it depends on which type of finger foods you prefer. The greasy, loaded with cheese kind or the dry, flake off onto your shirt kind.” She pulled one of the catering menus from the stack and held it open. “And then, there’s this kind.”

He peered at the menu. “Wedge salad bites?”

“Yep. Complete with bacon bits.”

“And dressing?” Josh laughed.

She giggled. “You bet. Not cheese, but just as messy, plus plenty of bits to mess up your shirt too.”

“Maybe we should do some pigs in a blanket, and little spinach and cheese quiches? Less mess, but still cheesy.”

“Perfect!” She set the menu aside and made a note on his order. “What else? Have you decided if you want to do the photo booth?”

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you have a really beautiful smile. And a great laugh too.”

Was he flirting or simply paying her a sincere compliment? Crap, she couldn’t tell. Not wanting things to go from business-normal to business-weird between them, Cyn went with the latter. “Thanks. Very nice of you to say.” She gathered the table-setting flyers into a neat pile. “The photo booth?”

He raised a brow and tilted his head to the side. “Do you have one here?”

Shit. He might be flirting. “Uh, no. Sorry.” She pulled the stack of entertainment brochures from the cabinet behind them. “I can call the vendor and arrange a demo for you if you’d like.” She spread the various options out in front of him.

“A demo might be cool. Will you be there too?”

“Sorry, no.” Definitely flirting. And things officially just got weird. “Look, Mr. Bowden, I’m not—”

“Josh.” He smiled, toying with the edge of one of the flyers. “Look, I don’t want things to get awkward. I just figured…” He shrugged.

Cyn drew in a relieved breath. He was likely harmless but she never mixed business with pleasure, so moratorium or not, she wouldn’t take him up on his offer. However there was nothing wrong in letting herself embrace the lighthearted feelings his flirtation inspired.

“I’m flattered. Truly. But I never mix business with personal.”

“What if I fired you?”

“Cute. But we both know you won’t.” With a smile, she rolled her eyes. “Look, I just got out of a relationship and I’m not ready to get back out there and date. At all. And although I appreciate the compliment, I appreciate the business more. That, at least, pays my mortgage.”

Josh laughed. “Great sense of humor too. Okay, okay, you win. I won’t fire you. But after this party is done, and you’re over your ex, keep me on your list.”

“Will do.” She nodded. “Shall we get back to the details of the event?”

“Gladly.” He smiled and picked through the entertainment flyers. “Photo booth would be great. No demo needed.”

“Great!” With a smile, Cyn noted it in his paperwork.

That had gone surprisingly easier than she’d thought it would. However, there was a whole year ahead of Cyn where any number of opportunities could come her way. She might not be a beauty queen, but she wasn’t unattractive either. Cyn never had a problem meeting men; she just never met the right ones.

Josh was good-looking, young, slender and definitely dressed well, plus he seemed very responsible—her typical type. Kind of like Carlos had been. And Will before him. Then Brad, before him. Ugh!

Shane was a whole other story. It’d sucked cutting him off, but she couldn’t risk seeing him again and getting attached—even more so because he didn’t even live in L.A. anymore and would be going home soon. He’d never hurt her like any of the other guys she’d dated. At least she assumed he wouldn’t. The problem was her. She was the one who apparently had no ability to read people. Cyn no longer trusted her judgment. Coming face-to-face with Carlos, she’d been reminded of just that. And yeah, she’d known Shane just about her whole life, but that didn’t mean she really
knew
him.

He was like something out of a fantasy for her, though, and probably too good to be true. After all, she hadn’t been right about any of the men she’d picked to be with in her past, so trusting herself with Shane would be stupid.

Cyn stared at her hands. Damn broken picker. Josh could well and truly be all he appeared to be too, but Cyn had no intention of knowing for sure. She shook her head. It was going to be a long year.

* * * * *

Shane tacked the last piece of molding in place. He’d been working on the guest bedroom, adding new paint and trim. Next on deck was the guest bathroom: A new drop-in sink and faucet, plus some tile repair. He planned to tackle the living room after that. He’d been there every day, working from morning until night, but more importantly, staying busy enough that his mother wasn’t hovering over him. Naturally, Shane followed the list she’d provided him and was sure to check off the corresponding little box when he’d completed each task.

Really, Shane was a tad surprised she wasn’t perched on his shoulder the whole time giving him direction on what he should do differently. This latest boyfriend of hers was keeping her busy, thus out of Shane’s hair. Which was perfect as far as he was concerned.

“Have you had any lunch, darling?”

Shane cringed and then glanced up to find his mother in the doorway. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and stood. “I grabbed something already, thanks.”

“Oh, good. Preparing a sandwich was not on my to-do list today.” She glanced around the room. “It’s shaping up in here.”

That was almost a compliment. He followed her gaze. “Not too bad. I’ll be able to start in the living room by the weekend.”

“Oh no, dear. There won’t be any working over the weekend. Derrick will be watching television, and I’d prefer not to interrupt him.”

Shane bit his tongue.
The fuck? Interrupt him?
“Okay, sure.” He shrugged, then squatted down by the trim and smoothed his hand over the nail holes. “I hope that’s enough time to get everything done.”

She frowned and pursed her bright-pink-lipsticked lips. “I’m sure you can stay a little longer if needed.”

He bit his tongue again. No point in reminding her that he had a job
and
a life to get back to in Texas. Not like she cared. She’d already decided he’d do what she wanted, when she wanted, and that was that. The woman had always been this way, and probably always would. Shane let out a sigh as he stood, and disconnected the air hose from the nail gun. As long as he was doing what she wanted, all things stayed copacetic between them. Fighting her would only make this whole trip—and job—unbearable, and he wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with unbearable. In fact, he wasn’t getting paid at all. “I’ll get it done.”

His mother smiled her best Texas beauty-queen smile at him and patted the side of her perfect blonde hair. “Wonderful. Can I get you something to drink, darling?”

“No, thank you.” He picked up his jug of water. “Got what I need right here.” He tossed an equally practiced grin back. Yeah, no point in bringing on the unbearable. Of course, by the time the week ended, he might not have a tongue left, so arguing with her wouldn’t even be possible. He stifled a laugh and coiled up the air hose, trying like hell to ignore the fact that she was still standing there, hovering.

“Always so self-sufficient.”

The sneer in her voice made him cringe. “Not a bad thing, Mom. A trait I got from my father plus the years in service added to it. I’d think you’d be proud of that fact.”

Shit.
That one had slipped out. Shane blew out a breath and gathered his other tools along with his patience.

“It’s just not the life I would’ve chosen for you, darling.”

He turned his back and loaded his tools into the work-bucket. “Well, regardless, it’s what
I
chose. Besides, I’m sure Dad is proud.”

“Yes… I’m sure he is.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

When Shane glanced over his shoulder, she’d already walked away, having no desire to hear anything more said about his father, he was sure. She hated when Shane brought his dad up. Always had. Shane had never understood it completely, and still didn’t.

Whatever her issue was with his father, she’d kept it to herself—at least verbally. But she’d never kept the disdain from coloring her reactions whenever Shane mentioned him. It didn’t matter. She could date as many men as she wanted, hell, she’d even remarried a couple of times, but as far as Shane was concerned, none of them held a candle to his father. They never would.

He glanced at the time on his phone. It was a little after two p.m. Was Cyn busy working? He’d sent a couple of texts and even left a voicemail for her, but she’d yet to reply. In fact, he hadn’t talked to her since the wedding. As far as he could tell, he hadn’t done anything to piss her off at the reception so he wasn’t sure what the deal was.

This past week had been spent at Joey’s house with his wife and daughter, and it’d been great, but Shane hadn’t stopped thinking about Cynthia. He wanted to text her again, but he’d be damned if he was going to chase her. If she didn’t want to talk to him? Fine, they wouldn’t talk. Which sucked on so many levels, Shane had lost count.

Maybe she was freaked because she’d said those three little words when they’d been together the night before the wedding. Shane had let it slide, knowing full well she hadn’t meant them. Not like he was stupid. They’d just slipped out in the heat of the moment.