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“Why would she?”
“She seems rather strict.”
“Is she speaking down to you? I know she can be tough on the staff.” His eyes shone with concern.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle. But I’ve seen her running her finger along shelves, checking for dust. I do my best to be thorough.”
He smiled sympathetically. “Although she’s difficult at times, having played piano herself, she’s got a soft spot for music.”
“You weren’t musical?” I asked.
“I dabbled in guitar.” He took a bite of his bun and again I had to look away. Even watching him eat was like an erotic act. He swallowed and wiped his lips. “I played bass in a few bands when I was younger, much to my mother’s chagrin. I’m more into the outdoors these days, and I like reading. When I can get the time.”
“You read?”
He grinned at my stunned response. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
I returned an apologetic half-smile.
“It started with Enid Blyton books when I was in third grade,” he added. “And after that, I never stopped. I’m sure it was the Biggles books that got me obsessed with flying.” He sniffed. “Books gave me an escape. Boarding school wasn’t the greatest experience.” His lips curved into a tepid smile.
A pang touched my heart. I got the feeling he understood the pain of being alone.
I smiled sadly. “We share that.”
“Your parents ran a business?” His deep searching stare almost blinded me. Those eyes so many shades of blue, I found it hard to speak.
“Not as such. It was just my mother and”—I hesitated for a moment. Even mentioning that man twisted a nerve—“stepfather.”
“Was he bad?”
My brows knitted. “Did I show something then?”
He nodded. “I got a vibe that he was unpleasant.”
“He was more than unpleasant.”
A line appeared between his eyebrows. “Was he mean to you?”
“You could say that.” I fidgeted with my cup. “Let’s just say that my mother did me a favour by sending me away to boarding school.”
“Did he touch you?” His eyes darkened with anger, like he was about to hurt someone.
I bit my lip.
How did this become so damn personal?
A tear slid onto my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away.
He took my hand.
“You can tell me. I’ll pay for any legal fees.”
My mouth dropped open, and I remained speechless. He might as well have offered to kill my stepfather. “No. Not that. I couldn’t stand it.” An embarrassing shrill affected my speech. Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself. “He didn’t go all the way.”
“How old were you?” His voice strained.
I took a deep breath. “He moved in when I was thirteen.” I dug into my palms. “He’d look at me in a creepy way. My mother noticed and instead of throwing him out she sent me away.”
