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Brent fidgeted in his chair. “I go to New Beginnings Church in Carver Harbor, and my pastor there—”
“Adam! Good man. Sorry, go ahead.”
“He suggested I talk to you. I’m Samantha Gallant’s ex-husband.”
“Oh,” Darren said quickly, his expression losing some of its mirth. Then he said it again, more slowly this time. “Ohhh.”
“Yeah, so ... this is all confidential, right?”
Darren nodded. “Of course. Unless you’re about to tell me that a child is in danger. Then I have to report it.”
“No, no, nothing like that ...”
“I didn’t think so.” He waited patiently for Brent to spit it out.
Brent was sick of talking. He’d done more talking in the last week than he had in the last year. One of the benefits of working in creepy basements—not a lot of people hanging out down there to talk to.
“I’m not asking you to tell me anything about Samantha, but I’m looking for some advice. I’m thinking maybe ... I’d like to spend some time with her.” Nope, that wasn’t quite right. “I’d like to try again with her, I think, but I don’t know if she’d be receptive to that, and if she is, then I have no idea how to approach her. I’m not much of a romantic.”
Darren chuckled and leaned forward to rest his arms on his desk. He appeared to be thinking it over. “I have no idea if she’d be receptive. Samantha is pretty quiet.”
She was? Since when?
“She hasn’t shared much about herself. And I’m not much of a romantic either, but ... I hate to send you away and tell you that you wasted your gas getting here.” He thought some more. “And I do talk to a lot of women these days.” He looked at Brent. “And you’re right. Most of them do seem to want a bit of romance.” He bit his lip. “I think you might have to woo her.”
Brent laughed.
Darren joined him. “What was your relationship like last time? Were you all lovey-dovey then or was it more of a practical thing?”
“Practical?” Brent didn’t understand. And had the man really just saidlovey-dovey? With a straight face, no less.
“It might not be the best word. My parents had a great marriage, and I often think of it as a model, and practical is the word that comes to mind. My mother thought romance meant doing the dishes and fixing the toilet. My parents were very happy, but I never once saw a rose. I just saw two people working through life together.”
“Oh.” That actually sounded pretty nice. “We weren’t really either of those things.” He took a big breath. “We just sort of had fun together. We laughed a lot, and there was a lot of ... chemistry.” His cheeks got hot, and he reminded himself he was talking to a pastor.
“Did you talk about deep things a lot?”
“Almost never. I’m not much for talking.”
“And neither is she. Interesting.” Darren rubbed his chin.
“The thing is, she used to be. At least around me. I’m not sure why she’s being quiet here.”
Darren’s eyes widened a little. “Oh, that is interesting.”
An ugly thought occurred to him. Maybe he’d broken her. Maybe she wasn’t talkative anymore because of the divorce.
“You know what?” Darren slapped the table. “I have an idea, and it might sound a little crazy to you, but hear me out, okay?”
Uh-oh.
“There’s a woman in our church whoisan expert on romance, and she knows Samantha quite well.”
Breath rushed out of him. Oh good. Sammy had a friend. That brought him some relief. “Can we trust her, though? Won’t she tell Sammy if we ask her about it? I mean, if she says Sammy isn’t receptive, then she goes and tells her I asked, well ...” He didn’t really want to suffer that embarrassment.
“I can’t promise you that won’t happen, but I really don’t think she would do that.”
“Okay.”
