Had she been this difficult at his age?
Probably.
Ugh. Then again, she was much nicer than her own parents had been. Point in her favor. Not that it was helping with Nathan. She could be pleasant to him or she could be surly, and neither seemed to impact him in any way. He had attitude down to an art form. No matter what she did or what she said, he was pissed-off about it.
He was turning fifteen in a less than a month. She should plan something fun for him, let him invite his friends over, and ...
And what? She had no idea what he liked anymore. He had his earbuds shoved in his ears and listened to music or played games on his laptop when he was home. Otherwise he played football and hung out with his friends. The kid wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. As far as she knew, girls hadn’t yet entered the picture.
As far as she knew. And admittedly, she didn’t know much, though she was determined to not be like her parents. Like it or not, she was going to be involved in her son’s life.
She chewed on a hangnail and nursed her cup of coffee, pondering how to reach her recalcitrant child who really wasn’t a child anymore.
He was almost fifteen. At fifteen she’d been partying with her friends and with boys. And she was getting pregnant, mainly because her parents were too busy with their own private demons to pay any attention to what she was doing with her life. And oh, how she’d screwed up her life.
Lord. She rubbed her temples and sent a silent prayer to God that history wouldn’t repeat itself.
No, it wouldn’t. She was on top of Nathan and what he was doing. She wouldn’t let him fall through the cracks. She loved her son, paid attention to his schoolwork and his after-school activities. It was only this past freshman year in high school that he’d gone quiet and sullen on her, and she’d chalked that up to hormones and puberty. She had to give him some space, hated those parents who laid a thumb over their kids, never giving them any freedom. So far, Nathan’s grades were good, and he hadn’t given her any reason to think he was in any kind of trouble.
She owed him her trust—until he gave her a reason not to trust him.
And she hoped to God she could trust him, because it was summer and she had to go to work and he was too damn old for a babysitter.
But at least he had football practice that would keep him busy for part of the day, and that was part of the day she wouldn’t have to worry about what he was doing or what kind of trouble he was getting into.
Which was another reason she couldn’t get involved in any kind of relationship right now. Nathan was her first priority. She had to stay on her toes, and frolicking with a hot guy like Mick Riley would definitely divert her focus away from Nathan. That she refused to do.
By the time she got into the office, she’d managed to shove worry over Nathan into the corner of her brain she normally compartmentalized him into. Always there, but not overpowering her every thought. He had a cell phone and knew he could call her in case of an emergency. Her office was ten minutes from home, so she could get there in a hurry if necessary.
The day went by in a flurry of meetings about clients and events. Thank God for her job and her clients, and for Maggie and the other women, who kept her sane.
By the time four o’clock rolled around, she was astounded the day was already gone. She sipped a cup of tea and went over paperwork and entered dates into the computer.
“Have you been seeing that hot quarterback any?”
Tara looked up to find Maggie making herself at home in her office.
Actually, it had been a week since that night on top of the mountain with Mick. He hadn’t called her. He said he would. Then again, he was a man. They’d had sex. He was popular and went through a ton of women, none of whom had children. Tara knew once she’d dropped that bomb on him, it would be the end of Mick Riley pursuing her.
It’s what she’d wanted. Still, it stung. Just a little.
Fortunately, she’d been too damn busy all week for it to bother her too much.
“No. Not seeing him at all. I told you we weren’t getting involved.”
“Uh-huh. He’s in the front waiting area.”
Tara shot forward in her chair and spilled drops of tea all over her paperwork. “Shit.”
Maggie laughed.
“Dammit, why didn’t you just tell me that?
Maggie grinned and grabbed a few tissues to blot the tea stains. “More fun this way.”
“Bitch.” Tara smoothed her hands down the front of her flowing black-and-white checkered skirt, adjusted the wide black belt, and was just vain enough to take a quick glance at her hair in the mirror over her desk.
Her blouse was tucked in and looked fine. She looked fine.
“What is he doing here?” she asked Maggie.
Maggie shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t know, but he looks good enough to eat.”
Tara rolled her eyes, moving around her desk toward her door. “You need a man of your own.”
Maggie sighed and followed Tara out of her office. “Don’t I know it.”
She was nervous as she walked to the front of the store. Mick stood there at the window, his dark hair highlighted by the sun streaming in. He was so tall, so imposing, so incredibly gorgeous. He turned when he heard her and smiled that dazzling smile that made her just a little bit weak in the knees.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi, yourself.”
Maggie came up next to her, and Tara had to turn and give her a look.
“Oh. Yeah. Paperwork. Later, Mick.”
Mick’s lips quirked. “Later, Maggie.”
“What are you doing here?”
“It’s been a week since I’ve seen you.”
“I realize that. Figured you’d moved on.” She almost bit her tongue clean off. Why did she have to say that? It sounded ... mopey and girlie and needy and all those things she’d rather not sound like.
“No, I just had some business things I had to take care of. I would have called you at night or come by your house, but you didn’t give me your cell number or your home address.”
She crossed her arms. “When has that ever stopped you? Couldn’t your oh-so-stealthy agent scout them out for you?”
“Actually, yes, she could have.” He cocked his head to the side. “I figured maybe you’d want to give them to me yourself this time. Maybe even invite me over to your house.”
“Why would I want to do that?”