No One But You

her a few steps. She was having the same kind of day he was. “Why don’t you take off early? It’s almost four and you worked through lunch, too.”
    “I nibbled on something at my desk.”
    “Not good enough.” He couldn’t help it. He wanted to make sure she took care of herself. “Go on. You need to take advantage of this quiet while you can. No telling what’s coming next.”
    “There’s a mountain of work—“
    “The company won’t fall apart overnight.” Not his company. He worked hard to make sure it was as healthy as a corporation could be. “I insist. Good night.”
    “I’m not sure I should leave you to your own devices.” Carol squinted up at him, skeptical. “My assistant can keep an eye on you. Don’t you stay too late. You’re trying to cut back, remember?”
    “The harder I try, the more work there is to do.”
    “Then try harder. Learn to say no.” Carol winked on her way out the door, heading home to her husband and daughter. To what truly mattered.
    Well, so much for keeping my promises today, Wyatt thought as he hunkered down at his desk and flipped open the file folder Carol had handed him. Spreadsheets stared up at him, numbers that he couldn’t seem to make sense of. Just tired, he told himself, rubbing his forehead. He shoved the file to one side. The day had gotten away from him again.
    Time to wrap up loose ends and check his email. Hoping everything could wait until morning, he scrolled through his in-box. A note from accounting. Skip that. A message from his VP. That could wait. An email from Mariah Duncan. He clicked on it so fast his hand was a blur.
    Once again, he was listed in the cc line.
    Ella Jean—hope your week is going well. Thank you for your help in hunting down the appraisal. You’re the best. I owe you lunch after the property had closed. Name the time and place, and I’m there.
    Mariah. The thought of her brought a smile to his face. Always had, always would. Seeing her Monday had put a spring in his step he couldn’t explain. He admired what she’d done with her life, and respected the woman she’d become. That’s all it was…old friends catching up. That’s all it could ever be. Sorry about that, and he really was, he clicked on the next message from his real estate agent.
    If we’re still on for tonight, go ahead and preview these homes. I’ve sent the links. Let me know if this is in line with your expectations.
    He sighed. And so the house hunt continued.
    * * *
    It was dark when Mariah pulled into one of the last available parking spaces in the community center’s lot. Exhausted from a long day of standing in line at the city land office trying to find out the status of their building permit, racing to a women’s entrepreneur luncheon where she was a speaker, and finally sitting through three interviews for a new social worker—with four more scheduled for tomorrow—she was late, late, late. Knowing she’d missed Jake’s practice, she climbed from the car, grabbed her bag and jogged across the lot. With any luck, a kick of caffeine from the snack bar might give her the energy she needed to make it home.
    The community center buzzed with activity. The echoing thud, thud of dribbling balls, the stampede of kids charging down the court and the faint scent of chlorine from the pool were all so familiar. In one of the rooms, a seniors group practiced tai chi; in another aerobics was the activity of choice. She zoomed straight to the concession stand.
    “Mariah. Good to see you.” Bill, the center’s director, closed the cash register. “Decaf mocha, right? I meant to shoot you an email this afternoon. Good news.”
    “I like good news.”
    “Then you’ll be happy with this. Not only did I manage to round up a few more hoops, but a ton of sign-up forms came in. We’re already way above target for the fund-raiser.”
    “That’s a wonderful surprise.” She relaxed against the counter, glad to chat about the upcoming hoop fest tournament for Mary’s Place that the community center was hosting. “The event keeps growing. I’m getting media lined up for it, and I think we’ll have even better coverage this year.”
    “Excellent.” Bill’s machine whizzed and whirred. “That’ll be two-fifty.”
    Mariah unzipped her purse, but a hand settled on her shoulder, stopping her. Recognition jolted through her. She didn’t need to turn to know the identity of the man behind her; would she recognize Wyatt’s touch anywhere.