Summer Escape with the Tycoon

“So do you. No yoga pants for me today.”

“How’s the break treating you? You getting some perspective?”

She toyed with her glass. “Actually, I had an interview today. For a nonprofit here in the city. I’ll know in the next few days if it’s a go.”

“Nothing high-profile anymore?” He took another sip and put down his glass.

“No, at least not now. If we’re being honest... I’m pretty set financially, between what I made at the firm and, well, my trust fund. Ugh. That makes me sound like such a spoiled brat. Anyway, the pay cut won’t affect me much. And the hours are decent. I’m still donating my time to the opioid clinic.”

“You sound happier.”

“I am. This new job... The foundation works with underprivileged kids to help them with postsecondary education.” She went on to tell him about some of the initiatives they had in place and the scholarship programs. “Applying felt right,” she said, opening her menu. “When I was doing family law, the custody battles were what used to get me the most. It was always the kids. Maybe now I can help put lives together rather than pulling them apart.”

He nodded. “You like children.”

“I haven’t been around them a whole lot. Being an only child, I have no nieces or nephews. My friends are just getting married or starting families now. But I met families in my job, and the kids always looked so lost or angry.”

“Which is why I’m glad Murielle and I didn’t have children. I didn’t make time for her, you know? So I wouldn’t have with kids, either. But I like them. My brothers’ kids are all in school. One just turned thirteen. He’s really fun. Into video games and all charm, too. If he goes into the dealership, he’ll be a top salesman, no question.”

She laughed a little. It was hard to believe she was actually sitting across from him after over a month apart. “You saw your family, then?”

He nodded. “I did. It’s been good. More than good.”

The waitress came over and took their orders, and they handed over their menus before resuming their conversation.

“Molly, I came here today to tell you that you were right.”

Her lips dropped open in surprise. “Me? Right? How?”

“About my business. About me. It didn’t quite click until I went back home and took a good hard look at my family, my relationships, my business.”

“I don’t quite follow.”

He put his hands on the edge of the table. “As much as I hate to admit it, I’m a runner. Remember what you said to me when I told you what business I was in? You told me that I break things up into parts and sell them. I don’t fix them or rebuild them—the only thing I’ve built is EPC Industries, and really, that’s just the mechanism I use to make money and do business with short-term commitments.”

“I remember.” She wasn’t sure at all where he was going with it, but she was ready to listen. Clearly this was a big thing to him.

“It wasn’t until I talked to my mom that I started to understand and put it all together. I was young when my dad left us. My mom told me she remembers me asking if it was my fault. That if I’d been a better son, my dad would have stayed with us. Of course it wasn’t my fault. I know that now. But at the time, I suppose it made sense that I closed myself off a bit. My mom was devastated. So was I. And if I never allowed myself to get too invested in anything, I’d never be hurt like that again.”

It was a huge revelation to be dropped in the middle of a café, and Molly was prevented from replying by the arrival of their meals. The sandwiches came with fresh-cut house fries, and Molly dipped one in ketchup before biting off the end. It gave her a little more time to consider her response, because right now she was picturing Eric as a hurt little boy, curled up in his mother’s arms. It gave her heart a painful twist to think of him that lost and insecure.

“You know,” she finally said, her voice soft, “I used to see kids like you in my office. Sitting with their moms or dads, wondering wha

t the hell had happened to their secure world. Have you spoken to your father since he left?”

“He sent a letter when each of us graduated. I burned it.”

She nodded. No contact, no child support—Eric’s mom had been truly on her own. “Your mother must be a very strong woman. Three boys would have been a challenge.”

“She’s the best.”

“Which is why it hurt when your relationship got strained.”

He nodded again. “My ego. And my overdeveloped sense of self-preservation. I’m very good at making money. It doesn’t seem like a noble endeavor, but I think it stems from the fact that we never had enough growing up. We barely made rent. Sometimes we turned the heat off to save money. My grandparents gave us food a lot.”

“So you went a little Scarlett O’Hara? I’ll never be hungry again?”

“Yeah. Except I think I went overboard with that ambition and somehow equated that with being, I don’t know, better. My brothers are great men. Family men, running a business and supporting them.” He gave her a soft smile. “I’m starting to see that I can learn a lot from them.”