“I imagine it did.”
“But the thing about Boone, he didn’t only talk about the good things. He talked about hard things too. He told me his wife had died. He told me they’d tried to adopt a baby three times, and it never happened. He told me how it had broken his heart and how badly he wanted to be a daddy. He talked to me about his dreams. He talked a lot.” She paused, sipped her drink through her straw, and asked, “Does he still talk a lot?”
Hannah considered the question and then nodded. “He does when he’s trying to be convincing.”
“He’s a lawyer,” Rachel said dismissively as the server placed an order of veal Parmesan in front of her.
From inside her purse, Hannah’s phone blew up with incoming texts. Rachel observed, “Is that him?”
“Probably.”
“Are you going to answer him?”
“Do you want me to?”
Rachel took a bite of her meal, swallowed, then shook her head. “No.”
“Okay, then.” Hannah took her phone from her purse, ignored the screen full of messages, and thumbed it off. She dropped the phone back into her bag, picked up her spoon, and took a small bite of vanilla ice cream.
Rachel abruptly resumed the conversation. “He kept his promise. He sent me to a summer camp where I learned to water-ski and wakeboard, and ride a horse. It was magic. He was magic. He was like my own personal Santa Claus and big brother. Everything was great until one day, it wasn’t.”
“What happened?”
“His”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“friend.”
Ashleigh. Had to be. Hannah knew it.
Rachel inspected the bread basket the server had left and chose a roll. “I didn’t know what happened at first. I didn’t know why he wigged out during my case for a long time. The ‘friend’ tracked me down and told me a couple of years ago because her therapist made her do it.”
“What happened?” Hannah repeated.
“Well, Ralph, my stepfather—” She broke off and frowned at Hannah. “Do you know about that part?”
“Boone told me you were a crime victim, and that he made a serious prosecutorial mistake that allowed your abuser to go free.”
“Yeah. Boone effed up. He was all in a rage because just as the trial started, he found out his dead wife’s best friend had intentionally torpedoed the adoption that made his wife kill herself. It screwed up his head. He didn’t do his job right, and Ralph got off on a technicality. That’s what they called it when they explained it to me.
“Boone was just as big a wreck as me at that point. He apologized to me, but I was pretty bitchy to him. I had some anger issues going on. I ran away from home after it all went down.”
“Oh, Rachel.” Hannah’s heart broke for her. It broke for Boone. This explained so much. “Where did you go?”
“I won’t say. Someone helped me. She tracked me down. I wasn’t that hard to find. But that person would get into trouble, so I swore I’d never tell. I’m pretty sure Boone was behind it, but I never saw him again. I told him I didn’t want to see him, and he took me at my word. He left town pretty soon after that.”
Hannah digested all the information as Rachel finished her veal. She waited until the server brought the teen tiramisu for dessert to say, “That’s the past. What about now? What events brought you to the patio across the street watching Boone McBride meet an infant girl whom he expected to be a boy?”
Hannah and Rachel’s heads whipped around when a deep, familiar voice drawled, “I’m anxious to hear that story too. Mind if I join you?”
Chapter Twelve
Boone didn’t precisely panic when he realized Hannah had gone missing. He did grow confused, then concerned, and then, when he read her text, a little pissed. What the heck had her running off that way?
Once the baby grew fussy, Katie Devlin indicated the time had come to put her to bed, and the three of them departed. Boone had looked around for Hannah and figured she’d gone to the ladies’ room. The confusion set in when she didn’t return, and her text had raised more questions than it answered. He’d been about to apologize to Sarah and cut the meeting short to Uber back to the hotel when Sarah had touched his arm.
“I saw where she went. I think you should join them. The cat is out of the bag.”
“What cat?”
“Boone, Rachel was here. She wanted to watch you meet the baby. Hannah noticed her and followed her. I saw them go across the street and into the Italian restaurant.”
“Rachel. Rachel is with Hannah.” He pinned Sarah with a narrow-eyed look. “So Rachel is this baby’s mother?”
“I’m not allowed to say. Go across the street, Boone. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office at ten.”
He nodded and left, crossing the street and entering the restaurant. He spied Hannah almost immediately and … Rachel.
Rachel. All grown up.
It was a kick to his gut. The promise of beauty she’d shown at twelve had bloomed. She was a lovely young woman. A lump of emotion lodged in his throat. Damn. Rachel.
What is this all about? Had she set him up? Thank God he hadn’t told his mother about the baby if this had been Rachel’s effort to serve her revenge cold.
So that little girl probably wasn’t going home with him to Colorado. Boone’s heart broke at the thought.
Well, he wasn’t one to put off bad news. Might as well face this and get it over with.
He started across the room and drew close enough to hear just as Hannah asked the million-dollar question. So here we go. “I’m anxious to hear that story too. Mind if I join you?”
Both women looked at him with surprise. Hannah’s expression softened with welcome. Rachel sat back in her chair and folded her arms defensively. All grown up, but still the same sadly damaged little girl whom he’d tried to rescue. She shrugged. “Feel free.”
She kept her head turned away, her gaze avoiding him. She obviously wasn’t going to answer Hannah’s question, so Boone searched for a place to begin. He was the smooth-talkin’, fast-thinking lawyer who never ran out of words and always had fifteen different ways to ask the same damned question. He knew how to build an argument and mine for a secret with subtlety and finesse.
Unfortunately, the words that came out of his mouth were an accusation. “Are you scamming me?”
Now, finally, she met his gaze. “What?”
“Is this your payback? I know I deserve one, and if this is it, you’ve outdone yourself.”
Rachel gave him that silent you’re-an-idiot smirk that teenagers perfected. “Get over yourself, McBride. I forgave you for screwing up my case before my thirteenth birthday.”
Stunned, Boone asked, “You did?”
“Okay, maybe it was my fourteenth, but yeah. I forgave you.”
Boone felt something tight loosen in his chest. He spared a glance toward Hannah, who watched him with a warm and sympathetic gaze. He cleared his throat. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
Rachel shrugged. “It happened the way it was meant to happen.”
Boone dragged his hand across his jaw. So many thoughts and questions spun through his head. Where to start? Pick a spot, dumbass. He cleared his throat a second time and said, “I’ve thought of you a lot, Rachel. Will you tell me about your world for the past five years?”