“You tried that once back in the restaurant, and I didn’t fall for it then.” In fact, she’d hoped he would forget all about that silly quid pro quo. Opening up, even if it was only about her life since college, would invite Trent back into her world, and maybe even her heart. Kate had no intentions of doing that again. “I’m here for a job, Trent, not…whatever that would be.”
“And this—” he waved toward the bowling alley, “—is this part of your job?”
Coming to the bowling alley had been a crazy, impromptu idea. One that was far afield of how Kate usually lived her life. She liked her world to be predictable, comfortable. The clown shoes and the way Trent was looking at her were the exact opposite of comfortable. “A, it was your idea, and B, as a ghostwriter, I have learned that the best way to get the client’s story is to be on his or her turf and ease into the conversation.” She shrugged. “I’ve met clients on the golf course and at wine bars, and once, in a cigar bar.”
“That I’d have to see.” He laughed. “Did you partake of the cigars?”
“No, but I did have to get my dress dry-cleaned and wash my hair twice to get the smell out. Either way, I got the story, and finished the book.”
“So you’re saying…” He pushed off from the bench and closed the gap between them. Her heart stuttered when Trent leaned in—what is happening here? Why can’t I think straight?—then moved past her to grab a bowling ball. Disappointment sunk in Kate’s stomach. “That whatever the client wants to do, whatever helps him open up, is part of the job?”
“Yes, but—”
“Well, I’m telling you I’m a relationship guy,” Trent said. He shifted the heavy ball between his palms, making it look like it weighed no more than a feather. “I like to know my customers, my employees, my vendors. And now, my ghostwriter.”
She scoffed. “You. A relationship guy? You weren’t in college.”
“Back then, I was young and dumb. Now I’m older and, presumably, wiser.” He turned, took three steps, then sent the ball flying down the waxed lane. It collided with the pins, knocking eight to the ground before disappearing into the catcher at the back. “So, if I win, I get to learn as much as I want to about you.”
She bit her lower lip and thought about his deal. Would it be such a bad thing to give Trent a peek—a tiny peek—inside her own life? If it got him to open up and meant she could make the deadline, then how was it a bad idea? “Okay, but I have a condition of my own.”
He shifted a couple of inches to the right, lined up for a curve ball, and released the heavy black bowling ball again. It whistled down the alley, hitting one pin, then the other, giving Trent a spare. “Considering I’m already winning, I don’t know if I have to accept your condition.”
“I haven’t even taken my turn yet. You have no idea how good of a bowler I am.”
“You just told our new friend there—” he nodded toward Elizabeth, who was giving her pink ball a push toward the pins, “—that you were really bad at bowling.”
That’s right. She had said that. As he approached, noted his score, then stood beside her, she feigned indifference. She had control of this situation. Yep, she did. “Well, either way, don’t be too confident in your victory. Because if I win, I want your undivided attention all day Saturday.”
A slow smile spread across Trent’s face. “You already have that now, Kate.”
The room felt a hundred degrees warmer. She opened her mouth to speak and couldn’t think of a single word to say.
It had been over fifteen years since she and Trent had been a couple. Plenty of time to get over him, move on, have closure, whatever it was in the magic formula that ended a relationship in a woman’s mind and heart. But right now, staring into a face as familiar as her own and hearing his deep voice utter things she had wished for in those long, lonely months after graduation…
She was torn between wanting to run far, far away, and wanting to never move from this spot. Instead, she opted for a distance-increasing middle ground.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” She spun on her rented shoes, then stepped up to the desk and pushed a button. There was a whirring and clanking.
Trent burst out laughing. “Bumpers? Isn’t that cheating?”
“Should have set the rules before you made the bet.” She tossed him a grin, then sent the ball sailing down the maple alley. It careened off the right bumper, then the left, before finding the center. The dark green ball sailed down the middle, slammed into the pins, and all ten tumbled down. “Well, well. That would be a strike, wouldn’t it?”
“I would have to agree,” Trent said with a little laugh. “You are creative, Kate, very creative.”
“Yay!” In the next lane, Elizabeth jumped up and down, cheering as if she was the one who had gotten a strike. “Good job!”
“I had some help.” Kate shot her enthusiastic cheerleader a big smile. “You’re doing pretty good too, Elizabeth.”
“Watch me!” The little girl hefted another bowling ball into her arms, teetered to the line, then gave the heavy ball a hard shove. Her grandmother stood close by, watching with amusement and pride. The ball did a turtle-slow roll down the alley and hit three pins.
Kate cheered. “Great job!”
Elizabeth grinned. “T’ank you!” Then she ran up to her grandmother and recounted every move she’d seen Kate make, bragging about her as if Kate was Elizabeth’s new best friend. The whole moment was adorable and sweet. Maybe someday Kate would have a little girl like that.
Someday. In college, she had hoped the man standing beside her would be the one she’d marry, the one she’d raise a family with. Then their paths had diverged, and Kate put that future on hold.
“She could be me,” Kate whispered to Trent as she watched Elizabeth’s grandmother fold the little girl into a hug and saw an echo of the afternoon at Grandma Wanda’s, with the soup and the plant and the wisdom. “My grandma has always been the one who was there for me. She taught me pretty much everything I know.”
“I always liked your grandma. She’d send cookies back to school with you for me.” Trent chuckled. “Everybody needs a grandma like that. How is she?”
It had taken a couple of years after the breakup for Grandma to stop asking about Trent. She’d always called him “that nice young man.” When Grandma had put her stamp of approval on Trent, Kate had taken it as a sign they were meant to be together. In the end, she’d been wrong, and grateful her grandmother had been there to help her through those first few devastating weeks.