“Nothing. Nothing. I—” She took a breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I’d be in Portland.”

“That’s okay, Ginger. You don’t have to tell me all your personal business.”

“But that was humiliating,” she said. “Catching me looking at my useless ex-husband like that. Secretly.”

He chuckled. “First of all, he’s not completely useless. He does a pretty good job of stirring up the girls. They don’t know it won’t get them anywhere. And second—those girls I was standing between? One was my ex and the other was a young woman I briefly dated and don’t want to date anymore.”

She was speechless for a moment. “Seriously?” she finally asked.

“Seriously. For about thirty seconds I was wondering why I couldn’t just die. I had absolutely no idea they would be there. I’m pretty good at identification and avoidance of trouble. I don’t want to be around either one of them.”

“Then what were you doing there?”

“Same as you, I bet. I wanted to catch a glimpse of that character. Mick. I wanted to see what he had. Is that what you were doing there?”

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it very well.”

He smiled at her. She was the best sight he’d seen in more than a week. Just her presence took all the stale, dark air of the club out of his nostrils. “There’s an all-night diner a few blocks from here—on Washington. It’s called Spoonin’ or something.”

“Noonan’s,” she corrected with a laugh.

“That’s it. Good coffee, mediocre pie. Want a cup? With a friend?”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I do. Can I ask a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Can you try to not ask me to explain why in the world I’d want a look at my ex-husband? Because I’m not sure I can do an adequate job of it.”

“Ginger, our talking has been easy. I don’t make you talk about things you’re not ready to talk about and you don’t push me to uncomfortable limits, either. That’s why it’s working between us. Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”

* * *

Seeing him was a rush, that’s all there was to it, Ginger thought. Even though when she first spied him she felt caught in a snare. Oh, God, caught sneaking around to see her ex! She had no intention of being busy at the flower shop; she had planned that trip to see Mick perform at one of their old haunts.

But Matt was there. Why did he care to see Mick?

He left her at her car. She didn’t know where he’d left his truck but when she parked beside the diner, he pulled in beside her.

“This is such a great rescue,” she told him.

“Not something I’m known for,” he admitted. “I’m glad to be of service. It was a provocative night—he sang to you.” He held open the door for her. “He sang you a love song.”

They settled into a booth—old red vinyl benches, scarred laminate tabletop, jukebox. The waitress was there in an instant and they ordered coffee and pie.

“He sang a love song to you,” Matt said again. “Women were fainting all over the place, each one wanting to be you.”

“It’s what he does for a living,” she said. “It probably did more for his image to sing a love song to me than to anyone else. Everyone reacted just as you did. Wow, he sang that woman a love song. And by the way, it’s not much of a living.”

“I haven’t figured out that part,” Matt admitted. “I looked him up on the internet and he sounds like a major star... There are pictures of him singing on a big stage to what looks like millions...”

“He’s opened for a few big bands,” she said. “Fifteen minutes to a sellout crowd before the big guys take over for a two-hour concert. He’s got good PR and it costs a fortune.”

“Well, he didn’t turn me on, but he was breaking hearts all over the room. I don’t know if he’s good—I don’t know that much about music. Sounded okay to me. I mean, I hate him, but I think it sounded good.”

“Why do you hate him?” she asked.

“He didn’t treat you right,” Matt said. He shook his head. “He must be a little crazy. Or very stupid.”

“Or I am.” She put cream and sugar in her coffee. “The women surprised you, huh? The exes?”

“Oh, yeah. They shouldn’t have. First of all, I met Lucy in a place just like that. I had gone there looking for women. Or, to be more specific, a woman. And Natalie wanted to go to places like Roy’s. All. The. Time. Every night of the week, if possible. Them being there was far more predictable than me being there.”

“And yet, you wanted a look at Mick?”

“I did. I wanted to see what kind of fool would give you up. What kind of lamebrain would walk away from his wife, his child? It makes no sense to someone like me. In our family if a guy did that, he might be shunned.”

“But you did,” she said.

At first he looked at her in shock. “Natalie didn’t want kids. At least not for quite a while,” he said quietly. He stared into his coffee cup for a long moment. “Ginger, you won’t understand this. I can’t explain this without telling you some things I swore I would never talk about. All I can say—I had to. There were lies and betrayals I just couldn’t get over. I admit, that’s on me. Being married means being able to forgive and I couldn’t. She wants another chance. I wouldn’t dare.”

She sat back. “Then it wasn’t just a simple matter of marrying the wrong person.”

“Is it ever simple?”

“Does seeing her hurt?” she asked.

The pie arrived. The check was slapped down on the table as if the waitress could tell they were engrossed in a serious conversation.

“It didn’t. No. How about you? Did seeing him hurt?”

She smiled at him. “That’s what I came for. To gauge the pain. I invested a lot in that man. Years and years. Promises and patience and vows and sacrifice and I wanted to know if I still longed for him with every piece of my heart. I looked at him and felt nothing. Well, that’s not really true. I felt a little shame—I was a complete fool. I should have known better—he never lied about who he was.”

“He said something to you,” Matt said. “He kissed your cheek at the end of the song and said something.”

“Uh-huh. He said, ‘Wonderful to see you. You look beautiful. Thank you for coming.’ And then he turned and began to sing to a woman two tables away.” She laughed and shook her head. “He thought I came for him. Of course.”

“And you went for you.”

She nodded and cut off a forkful of pie. On its way to her lips she paused. “Have you ever had your heart broken so badly you thought you might die? That you wanted to die?” He nodded solemnly. “Every time Mick couldn’t really be mine, when he finally said it just wasn’t his scene, my heart hurt so bad I wondered how it hadn’t killed me. How does it beat through that? The whole time I mothered my little son I was so grateful to have him, but my heart still ached for the man I had believed in. I decided it would take willpower to let go, but I was getting over him—so slowly, but I was getting over him. Then the baby died.”