Page 21 of Kismet


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“Places.”

“And what do you hope to find in theseplaces?” Stealing himself against the answer, he prayed it didn’t involve other men. “Do you want to take up some new hobbies?”

“I wouldn’t mind.” She sipped her drink and looked out the window. “Maybe parasailing or windsurfing. Or perhaps I should learn to dive so that I can explore the shipwrecks that populate the coast.”

“All good options.”

She snorted. “If you unscrunch your face before you reply, it might be more believable.”

“You won’t get in the pool unless it’s seventy-eight degrees, so the cold-water thing doesn’t seem very realistic.”

“I would get a fancy wetsuit and a healthy dose of daring and courage. I’m more than capable of throwing caution to the wind and chasing dubious choices.”

“Believe me, I know.” He ran his hand over the worn table. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I suppose.”

He watched two lines form between her brows. “What drives you?”

“That’s a big question?” She tilted her head. “Care to be more specific?”

“I’d love to know why you act like there’s a crushing invisible debt that needs to be paid.”

“Are you suggesting my impression of an altruist on crack is a bit much?” she asked with a tight laugh.

“Yes.”

“Why the sudden curiosity?”

He watched the sun begin its descent over the water. “We talk about a lot of things but rarely the events that made us who we are. I think it’s time to change that.” He wasn’t sure if she’d answer but decided that posing the question was important. He watched her fidget and then let out a long sigh. “We can do it another time if you want.”

“Are you sure that you want to hear this?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

She played with the napkin in her lap and then looked up. “It’s not a pretty story.”

“I understand. But if you decide to trust me, know that I won’t make judgments. I’m just curious about the experiences that fueled your worldview.”

“I do trust you.” She gusted out a long breath. “My parents were self-centered ne’er-do-wells. When they ran out of options, and no one from the family wanted to bail them out, they became grifters. Nathan and I spent our childhood dragged from one rich European playground to the next as they crafted schemes to separate people from their fortunes. We attended school sporadically and were often left to our own devices. The year that I turned eleven, they died in a car crash in Marseille.” She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Nathan and I were alone for seven days before the authorities found us and explained what happened.” Looking up, she frowned. “It wasn’t the first time they had disappeared, so I wasn’t all that concerned initially. But then we ran out of food, and the creepy apartment manager kept insisting that he needed to speak with our parents. I knew we were in trouble and was relieved when the gendarme showed up and gave us answers. The news was horrifying, but a small part of me knew we would eventually be better off. We were sent back to the states within days.”

“Damn.” His hand shook as he ran it over his neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“What for? You weren’t there.”

He ignored her stern tone, knowing it was the thing that kept her walled off from the horrific experience. “I want to go back in time and protect you two and…”

“Don’t look at me with pity, Teague. We survived. And that isn’t always the case.”

“It’s respect, Tancy.” He covered her hand, swallowing the ball of rage and sadness that wanted to escape. A desire to pull her into his arms became overwhelming, and the only thing that stopped him was her stoic expression. “I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.”

“It wasn’t fun, but it’s all we knew.” She stared at their clasped hands. “Aunt Sadie welcomed us with open arms and gave us a stable home. We were lucky and could’ve easily ended up in foster care if she hadn’t taken us in.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome. Though I’m not sure why you’d want to hear such a sad story.” She shook out her hair. “Luckily, we turned those early years into gold, made the most of what Sadie offered us, and took advantage of every academic opportunity.” She looked down at the table. “I used the childhood story in my college essays, and I think that’s why Georgetown offered me admission and a very generous scholarship. They knew that if I could survive that early experience, then I could manage the academic rigors of an ivy league university. It was a lemon into lemonade situation that I’m forever grateful for.”

“How do you see the upside of everything?” He squeezed her hand. “By all rights, you should be bitter and angry. Instead, you see how your parent’s horrifying choices gave you a chance to write a kick-ass essay.”

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