Barbara

I parked the car in the driveway of my home, next to Eleanor's car. The metal gate closed behind me, and I let out a heavy breath.

Like chunks of armor chipping down, my shoulders relaxed as I made my way to the door. My lungs pushed the air out in a heavy whoosh when I cleared the front steps and fished the keys out of my purse.

Opening the door of the beach house I called home for the past six years, I was greeted with the sound of eleven paws and one pair of footsteps.

The first to appear in the entrance hall was a giant, one eyed mutt with a mottled white and gray coat. An English Mastiff and Great Dane mix, Pirate looked intimidating with his big stature and scarred face.

"Hey, big guy," I said, rubbing the dog's head and neck as it bumped against me. Meowing alerted me to the presence of my two other babies.

Although at seven and ten years old, Pie and Pepper were no longer babies. Pie ambled forward on three paws to rub against my leg, while Pepper watched from the distance like the sophisticated lady that she was.

I picked up Pie and went inside. The earthy tones of the living room chased away the last vestiges of wariness.

The beige sectional sofa filled half the living room, covered with mustard-colored and forest green blankets and pillows. The cats' tree stood next to the glass backdoor, overlooking the beach and ocean beyond it. Pirate's gray bed was right next to the dark fireplace. I guess I should light it up tonight. I needed the warmth.

"Eleanor?" I called. The blonde head peeked from the kitchen. She grinned and came out.

"You're early," she said. "I already took Pirate on his walk and gave them food. How was your day?"

"Good," I replied, rubbing the tabby cat's neck. Pie purred.

Eleanor disappeared into the kitchen again. I followed inside. The smell of cinnamon and sugar filled the place.

"I noticed you ran out of cinnamon rolls, so I made some," Eleanor said, untying her apron and hanging it near the oven. She limped to one of the island chairs and sat down.

"Thank you. You didn't have to," I told her, taking a seat next to her.

"You don't have to pay me to babysit these babies, but you're doing it anyway," Eleanor said. "If I want to make you some cinnamon rolls, then I will."

I nodded and let go of Pie when she squirmed. She jumped down and joined the two other pets devouring their food.

"Did something happen?" Eleanor asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Why?"

"Because you're being quiet," Eleanor said, then added with a grin. "Quieter than usual."

Eleanor and I had known each other for more than two decades. Since that night seventeen years ago when it all ended, I swore I'd take care of Eleanor until my last breath.

Younger by five years, Eleanor right now was a far cry from the skin and bones girl she'd been. At five six, she was taller than me. She was also far more cheerful. Eleanor was not just my friend, she was my sister, unrelated by blood but bound by a cruel history.

I told Eleanor about Ryan Davies' visit. She already knew about the blind date. By the time I finished, the pets had finished eating. Pirate was laying on the floor by our feet, Pepper and Pie nowhere to be seen.

Eleanor gaped. "What the hell? And you said yes?"

I nodded. "Max has been calling and dropping by almost every day since the date."

"I think he'll keep bothering you until you agree to more dates."

"That's exactly what he's doing," I said. "He said so himself."

Eleanor laughed, slapping the island. "Oh, I love that old man."

Pirate lifted his head at the sound of Eleanor's laughter and gave an agreeing bark. After Eleanor sobered, she wiped her eyes and shook her head. "I can't believe you said yes. But hey, I'm totally a fan of this." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Who knows, maybe you'll fall in love and start dating for real."

"Did you hit your head?" I asked. "You're beginning to sound asinine."

I wasn't as romantic as Eleanor. I did not have any misconceptions about what this was. Ryan had been clear. He could have asked any single woman and she'd have agreed to his proposal. I was not blind. He was a fine man.

But he didn't ask any other woman. He asked me. Because he knew there was no risk with me. I would never develop any fantasies that the few fake dates would turn into more because I was the Ice Queen. I was cold, detached and business-like. That was the only reason he came to me.

The fact that he insisted our fake relationship remain purely platonic proved my thoughts. He didn't want things to get physical.

I pushed Ryan away from my mind and ignored the irrational twinge of hurt I felt. I asked Eleanor about her work and her roommate. No matter how many times I asked, Eleanor would not move in with me. It wasn't like she needed to commute to work; Eleanor worked as a freelance graphic designer, so she could work anywhere. But I understood. My sister craved her independence. It was proof that she had made it out of that hell and that she was alive and living.

A while later, Eleanor stood. "Anyway, I have to go. I need to finish some work for tomorrow."

"You can finish it here," I said. "Stay the night."

"If I stay, I won't be doing any work," Eleanor said. "Oh. I also have a breakfast date with John. And I'm going grocery shopping so give me your list."

John was Eleanor's fiancé. She'd been dating him for three years. He was a serious, dependable man. I liked him. After he proposed to Eleanor, I had had a private investigative agency do a check up on him. He was squeaky clean. Not that I told Eleanor that.

But If I could lose Eleanor to anyone, I would not feel bad if it was to John. "Tell John I said hi. And I'll send you the list. Thank you."

Eleanor waved me off. She crouched down by Pirate and rubbed his head. I walked her out. Eleanor waved by the door and headed to her car. She did not hug me. Like everyone else, she thought that I hated being touched.

I did not hate it. For the longest time, I had been scared. Like a dog who'd been beaten for too long and was thus taught that any human touch would bring pain.

I had grown up past that fear. I just didn't know how to tell the world that I was no longer scared.

*** **** ***

Looking around the fancy restaurant, I suppressed a sigh. When Ryan had set up our lunch date a few days after his proposal in my office, I had not expected I would have to suffer through an extravagant lunch in an upscale restaurant. I hated these places.

"I hope you like the place," Ryan said, sitting down after pushing my chair. "It's very popular among women, I understand."

"I see." I nodded, avoiding the question.

Ryan tugged at his tie to loosen it. The place was rather busy, and Ryan was right; it was famous among young women. The majority of which glanced at him. I recognized some of them, a few heiresses and other women from the community I'd met over the years. Obviously, they would recognize me, too. News of mine and Ryan's lunch date would no doubt make the gossip circles by the end of the day.

Oh.

"Is that why you chose this place?" I asked, scanning the menu. "News about the date will definitely reach your mother's ears."

"That, too," he said with a grin.

The waiter took our orders. Ryan leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table. "So, are you going to tell me why no one knows of your relationship to your father?"

I blinked. "That's a very rude question."

"I know," he said, his grin unrepentant. "But I figured we now share a big secret, so you might tell me."

"Why did you move to England?" I asked. He wasn't the only one who could be rude.

He nodded. "Fair enough. Will you tell me if I tell you?"

I thought about it. I was curious. Besides, my secret wasn't something he couldn't have guessed himself. It was very cliché. So I nodded.

"You know who I was married to, right?" Ryan asked.

"The supermodel. Everyone knows," I said. His ex-wife was one of the most beautiful women in the country, if not the world. A successful supermodel.

"Yeah. The divorce was... ugly." Ryan cleared his throat. "The press attention only made it worse. Jeremy, my son, was around three at the time. He'd been through enough. He didn't need cameras shoved in his face whenever I picked him up from daycare."

By the end of his speech, his smile had disappeared. He sighed. "Anyway, the custody battle followed. It was just too much and the press made it worse. Moving somewhere else, somewhere far away, made sense."

"Why England?"

His smile returned. "That's the second question."

I nodded, too curious to stop.

"My mother is from England. I spent part of my childhood there, so I know the country," he said. "I got us a house in a small town in the south. It was quiet, off the radar. Exactly what we needed. Now it's your turn."

I fixed the cuff of my shirt. "I'm not Mrs. Owens' daughter."

Ryan's brows climbed up. "An affair?"

"Yes." If it could even be called that. "My father and his wife did not want to advertise his past indiscretions. My grandmother had agreed. So I'm the family's ugly little secret."

"I see," Ryan said. "And your mother?"

My heart turned into a block of ice. My mother was the last person of whom I wanted to think.

"Dead," I replied, my voice's temperature dropping.

Ryan met my unflinching gaze. Could he see the truth in my eyes?

Would he ever recognize me?

"I'm sorry," Ryan said.

I simply nodded, even though I wasn't even the least bit sorry.

The waiter arrived with our food. The sound of laughter nearby broke through the wall of memories crashing down on me. After a few minutes of eating, Ryan looked up.

"Now, my second question," he said.

"Nice try," I said. "But you already asked two questions."

He chuckled. "Too bad."

***

"Thank you," I said when Ryan opened the restaurant door for me. He looked around the street.

"Your car?" he asked.

"I walked here," I said, tucking my hand in my white coat's pockets. "The company is close by."

"Do you want a ride?"

"No, thank you. I'll walk," I said, taking a step back from him. "Thank you for lunch."

"Did you like the place?"

No. "The decor is beautiful and the food's delicious."

He raised one eyebrow. "Alright. I hope you don't mind if we meet up again sometime this week."

I blinked. He wanted another date so soon? Odd. Most people didn't enjoy my company, a fact I was well aware of. "Sure. Let me know in advance."

"Will do." Ryan winked. "See you then."

I left him standing there, and felt his gaze on the back of my neck for the rest of the day.

I didn't expect him to contact me that same day. I was sitting in the back porch of my house, watching Pirate splash around in the glimmering water. His mottled coat gleamed under the orange glow. Pie and Pepper were curled around each other on the table next to me, absorbing the last heat of the setting sun.

I took my phone out of my pocket. I shivered. The orange sweatshirt I wore did not offer much warmth against the evening breeze. I read Ryan's message and sighed.

Sunday morning?

I had to work during the weekdays, but I always came home early even if it meant bringing work home with me, which I often did. I felt guilty leaving my babies all alone, even though Eleanor often dropped by in the afternoons to let Pirate out and feed them.

The weekends were the only days I spent with the three pets. Pie and Pepper were quite happy having their own time after a cuddle or two, but Pirate was a big dog. He needed a lot of exercise and attention.

I looked at Pirate. The dog barked and came running, the scar on his missing eye standing out sharply in the dimming light.

I typed in a quick reply.

I can't on weekends. How about Friday?

I climbed down the steps and ran past Pirate, my bare toes sinking into the golden sand. The dog gave a gleeful bark and followed, catching up in three of his big steps. The salty air was a familiar balm to my spirit.

Remembering my mother at lunch had made me even more tense at work. I had left earlier than usual because I needed to be in the comfort of my own home. I needed to see the colors and feel the warmth of another living being to keep away the memories. My blank office only made them worse.

I ran faster. If only I could run away from my past, if only I could go somewhere else and start over as a new person with new memories.

When my lungs and leg muscles screamed for me to stop, I dropped on the sand, spreading my limbs and staring up at the twilit sky. Pirate jumped over me. He ran to and from the water a few times before plopping down beside me.

I didn't have to worry about other people here. The beach was private, and most neighbors used their estates as a summer house. This was my home, a place where I could be and act however I wanted.

After catching my breath, I checked my phone. Ryan had replied.

Friday it is. This time you chose the place.

I blinked. I was grateful I didn't have to endure another hour of stuffy extravagance. But I didn't know where to take him.

I usually had lunch in my office, sometimes I had business meetings over lunch outside.

There was a small café a few blocks away from work to which I went with Eleanor. It was a quiet corner that not many people frequented. Neat and clean, but by no way extravagant. Certainly not the scene of people in our social circle. I didn't like sharing details of my personal life with other people, and sharing a favorite spot to eat could reveal something about me to Ryan.

But I didn't want to endure another painful lunch. So I sent Ryan the name and location of the café before I could convince myself it was an unreasonable decision.

*** **** ***

It snowed that Friday morning.

I was impartial to the white substance, but even I could appreciate the first snow. The flakes floating to the ground were a mesmerizing view for someone who spent the first eleven years of her life unable to see it up close.

I took my seat in the café just as a familiar tall, dark headed figure walked in. Ryan stomped his boots on the rug by the entrance, looking around. I wondered what he thought of the small joint.

The tables were wood brown, the chairs a faded red. The fake leather of the booth seats was worn out. The ground was an old tile work of green and white. But it was clean and warm, and it did not smell like two years old lasagna.

Ryan grinned when he saw me. He moved past the few occupied tables to the corner booth I sat in and plopped down across from me.

"Nice place," he said. "I didn't think this would be your scene."

I blinked at him. This was exactly why I had hesitated in choosing this place. It told too much.

"It's quiet," I said.

He nodded, looking around. "That it is."

A waitress arrived with the menu. She knew me from my frequent visits with Eleanor so she greeted me by name.

"You come here often?" Ryan asked after we placed our orders and the waitress left.

"She's a good waitress," I said. "She'll remember your name after two visits."

Ryan chuckled. "Did anyone ever tell you you're an expert at evading personal questions?"

"I have yet to meet someone as curious as you are."

He laughed. "See! You're doing it again."

"My statement still stands."

"Spend five minutes with a child and you'll be ready to pull your hair out."

I did not know what to say to that. I had not been around children since... since I was a child myself. I wondered what his son was like.

But I didn't need to wonder. Ryan asked anything he wanted without inhibitions. I would just do the same.

"How old is your son?" I asked.

"Six going on fifteen, I dread the day he starts going through puberty," Ryan replied, the smile that graced his features was one I never saw before.

"He's difficult?" I asked.

"No, not really," Ryan sighed. "He's just been obsessed with dogs and cats lately. But I know if I get him a pet, I'll probably be stuck taking care of it myself. Who am I kidding? I'll probably get him a pet anyway. Being a single child isn't that much fun."

"Are you a single child?" I asked.

"Yes," Ryan said. "And you?"

"I have a brother and a sister."

"I know about the brother," Ryan said. "But the sister?"

"She's not an Owens," I said, not adding any detail.

"Growing up with a sibling must have been fun."

Fun was the last thing my childhood was. But Eleanor had been the only ray of sunshine during those dark days.

"Better than being alone," I replied honestly.

"That's why I'm going to end up buying him a dog." Ryan sighed. "Or a cat. I still don't know."

I tugged at the cuff of my silk shirt. It really wasn't my business, but I couldn't let it go.

"You could adopt," I said. "There are a lot of shelters that take in stray animals and take care of them. You'll find all kinds of dogs and cats there."

"What's wrong with shopping?" Ryan asked.

"Most pet store get their animals from puppy mills or kitten mills," I said. "They're breeding facilities, basically puppy farms, where the animals don't live in stellar conditions."

"Huh," Ryan said, his gaze too observant. "I never knew that."

I stared back, my face blank although my heart quickened. I felt... seen.

"When I decide to get him a pet, I'll call you." He smiled. "You can show me a good shelter."

"You can look it up."

"I know, but it'll be quicker and more sure to have you show me around," he said, his smile widening. "We can make it a date."

The waiter arrived just in time, because I did not know what to do with the way my heart stuttered when he gave me that grin.

"Do you have any pets?" he asked.

My fork paused in its treck to my lips. Heart racing, I made my hand move and chewed on my food slowly. I did not share my personal life, and my babies were the heart of it.

"Pets make great company," I said, "but they require a lot of time and attention."

Ugh. I wanted to cringe at the clearly evasive reply. But I couldn't find a way to avoid answering that question without lying. Ryan laughed. "Alright. Pets are not to be discussed. Noted."

He went back to eating with a smile. He was amused. I did not understand why he was so nice. People would usually get offended or frustrated when I evaded a question, if they even bothered to ask.

The last time someone had asked me something even remotely personal had been a long time ago, maybe in college, and my evasiveness and coldness had shut everyone out.

But Ryan was a force. He did not care about being shut out or considered rude. At least with me. He was clear about what he wanted. He was so open and cheerful. Alive. Ablaze.

I felt as though I was a moth about to be burned by the beautiful flame, yet I couldn't help but draw closer.