Page 50 of Head Over Heels

Lashes fluttering open, she turned her head to look at him. “It’s not that far. Look at James and Gracie, they spend time in both places.”

He grinned at her, his expression a little chagrined. “Does it make me weird that I like seeing my family for Sunday dinner?”

Sophie couldn’t imagine, so she smiled and said, “Yeah, totally.”

* * *

Ryder laughed. She was such a little brat, and holy shit did she look fantastic in a swimsuit. A fact he chose to ignore. He shrugged. “I’m not going to apologize.”

“Nor should you.” She sighed, sounding a bit wistful.

He couldn’t help wondering about her childhood and her familial relationship and how that might have affected her. He’d wanted to question her, but the second she mentioned her parents, her shoulders had gone completely rigid and her face pursed with defensiveness. It was an interesting reaction, given her words had been delivered with a light breeziness. In his profession he’d learned how to read body language, learned to watch for tells in a person’s actions. Sophie’s tells had reminded him of a cornered animal with its hackles raised.

So despite his curiosity, he’d decided not to press and ask a question he already knew the answer to. “What about you? Ever think of leaving the big, bad city for the quiet life?”

She shook her head. “God no. I’d hate it.”

“How do you know that?”

“I like the constant activity, the fast pace. Being able to go to any store I want and go out to dinner at all the best restaurants.”

He got that, but those were all things. Not connections. There was no mention of friends, or even her job. Another observation he intended to investigate deeper, but for now he kept the conversation light. “Maddie mentioned you ran a Chicago entertainment blog. What made you decide to do that?”

She lifted her head to the sun before stretching a little and letting her shoulders drop.

He ignored the lithe movements of her body.

She sighed again, appearing to grow lazy in the sun. “I worked in PR for a media company, and it just made sense. I had a lot of connections, and I love to go out and try new things, love making all those discoveries off the beaten path and sharing them with other people.” She laughed a little. “I started it on a whim, actually. I did it for fun and didn’t expect anything to come from it. But I’m really good at my job, and in a year, places all over Chicago were begging me to feature them. So I got to go to all these great, exciting fun places and get paid for doing it.” Her brow furrowed.

“What?” he prompted, wanting her to continue and hopeful she would if he didn’t interrupt her.

“Oh nothing.” She waved a hand in the air. “It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.” When she didn’t answer, he tried again. “I really want to know.”

She shook her head a little. “I was on track to quit my job at the end of the year and focus on that full-time.” She cast him a furtive glance. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

He wanted her secrets. “I promise.”

She bit her lip a little. “I’d even made a business plan—and I’m not a planner.”

He got it. She’d had hope. Carefully, he asked, “Did your company’s scandal hurt the blog that much?”

“Yeah, it did. Maybe it would have been okay if I hadn’t been a VP, but every time it was mentioned anywhere, they named the executives and how they’d all been investigated. Chicago likes its corruption, and even though I’d been cleared of any suspicion, my name kept getting tangled.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not great for PR, you know?”

“I can imagine.” It wasn’t just her job she’d lost but her plans for the future.

She shrugged, like she was trying to roll away the bad memories. “I can probably rebuild once a little time has passed and people have forgotten. We’ll see. I don’t know if I have it in me to start again.”

“Sophie?”

“Yes?” She glanced at him.

“Thanks for telling me.”

“It was nothing.” She turned her attention toward the yard. “Shit happens. We deal and go on.”

It was something, but she was done talking and, from her dismissive tone, seemed to want to lighten the mood. So he’d help her along. He grinned at her and asked her a question only a muscle head would get excited about. “Wanna wash our kick-ass cars?”

“Absolutely.” Her expression brightened and she practically jumped out of the lawn chair.

He laughed. She didn’t disappoint. He hadn’t underestimated her love of fine automobiles.

Right then and there, he vowed to do his best to give her a good last day before she started what she clearly saw as her sentence in Revival.