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“We talked about his ex-wife.” That would get her to stop.
“What about his ex-wife?”
I sighed, and the Uber driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Just what he’s going through with her and how he’s worried she’s trying to take his son away.”
My mom hummed into the phone in her let-me-think tone. “Baby, I don’t know that you should be putting yourself in these situations. You don’t want to get in the middle of someone’s family.”
I fought the urge to slam my head against the window. “Right. That’s what I’m telling you. It wasn’t a date. He had a hard day and had made my weekend here rough, so he was just treating me to lunch. No flirting, no nothing.” Well, a little flirting. Until he brought up Darlene.
“Oh, Christie, I gotta call you back. Someone’s at the door.”
“’Kay. Don’t talk to strangers.”
“Love you, sweetie.”
“Bye, Mom.”
I let her hang up and kept drumming my fingers, hoping the driver had made the right turn. I couldn’t remember this street, but everything looked different in reverse.
I smirked and shook my head. It was always a red flag if a man came to another woman with woman problems, but at the same time, these woman problems were ongoing. Issues with an ex would never go away.
“She wouldn’t do that,” I murmured, trying to imagine the laid-back, chatty Darlene I’d met ruining Ryan’s life and taking away his son. Come to think about it, though, she had mentioned the idea of moving. Did she intend to move far?
Ryan didn’t seem as stressed after lunch, and part of me hoped he didn’t go straight to Darlene’s. I didn’t want to be part of their problems. I was typically a good listener, earning me the therapist badge in high school. Might have in college if I’d had any friends. Friends I could have had if I’d felt this similar urge not to worry about finding a job and just enjoy my time in Dallas. I almost wanted to ask Ryan what he was doing for the rest of the day to see if he’d invite me, but I wasn’t sure how he’d interpret it.
He was so interested in what I had to say, every bit of it, and he’d wanted to know when I had mentioned my fear of being two different people. Why had I pushed away his openness at first? What was so wrong with being honest about what was going on in his life?
“It wasn’t a date,” I reminded myself. And it wasn’t. It was lunch with a friend. I had no obligation to worry about what was going on in his life, and whether I enjoyed my time here or huddled up in rooms at the conference, I was still doing it for me. I could still play hooky until the special guest session at eight and schedule an interview.
“Shit!” I had my phone. I’d given the assistant Ryan’s number like an idiot. I pulled out my phone. I had that missed number still, right? I could call, and maybe Andrew himself would answer. But what if they call before I get to the hotel? What if they’d called throughout the day while I was in sessions?
Once I arrived at the convention center, I decided to call Ryan. The offices wouldn’t close until six, so I had a couple of hours. My phone rang before I could dial, and I nearly dropped it. When my consciousness registered that I wasn’t about to die, I pressed answer.
“Christie Hannam.”
“Hannam, huh?”
“Ryan?”
“Yeah, sorry to bug you, but—”
“You’re not bugging me.” My skin chilled. Why did I have to say that?
He chuckled. “Okay, well, I received a call from a Mayhew. Andrew Mayhew? Or his assistant. Either way, I told them I was your secretary, and they asked if they could meet you now.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. “What did you say?”
“I said you’re on your way.”
“What!” I glanced at my Uber, driving away. “When did they call?”
“Just got off the phone with them.”
“Thank God. And what are you doing?”
“I’m working.”
“On a Sunday?”
