Author: Jaci Burton

Savannah looked horrified. “Oh, my god, no. I found out who I’m bidding against. That’s Helen Sandingham.”

“So?”

“She’s on the board of directors at the children’s hospital. Apparently she’s loaded and wields a lot of power in this city.”

“Yeah, well, Helen can shove it. I’ll make sure you win that necklace.”

Savannah laughed. “Leave it to you to be unimpressed.”

He kissed her cheek. “Hey, I don’t care who she is. You want the necklace, you’re going to have it.”

With a minute left to go, that Sandingham lady had put in a bid. Savannah wandered over to the table, but didn’t write another bid in. Instead, she hovered. So did Helen, pen in hand.

It was on.

This should be entertaining.

Savannah watched the clock and when it was down to fifteen seconds, she hurriedly wrote down a bid. Helen was about to get the last bid in when Cole stepped in.

“Mrs. Sandingham?”

She frowned, looked past Cole, her gaze riveted on the bid board. “Yes?”

“My name is Cole Riley. I heard you’re on the board of the children’s hospital.”

Her chest puffed up. “Why yes, I am.”

“I’m one of the new players with the St. Louis Traders. I just wanted you to know if there’s anything I can do to help the children’s hospital, you can count on me. I just got traded from Green Bay, but St. Louis is my hometown. I like to stay active in charity work, and working with kids is very important to me.”

She finally put her attention on Cole. “Oh. Well. Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

“I’ll be sure to have my agent get in touch with you. Maybe I could arrange a visit to the kids. I could bring along some of the other team members.”

Now she was beaming. “That would be wonderful. The children love it when some of the local sports stars come by. I appreciate your dedication to your home city, Mr. Riley.”

He’d said it to pull her attention away from bidding on the necklace, but he realized he meant it. From the excited look in her eyes, this would be something he followed through on.

He took her hand in his. “Please. Call me Cole. And I’m happy to help out. I’ll have Elizabeth Riley, my agent, get in touch with you and you can direct her to the right people at the hospital to contact.”

“Thank you, Cole. It would mean so much to the children. It was such a pleasure to meet you.”

“You, too, Mrs. Sandingham.”

“Call me, Helen. And welcome home, Cole.”

He walked away, giving her a wink. She twiddled her fingers at him.

Cole wasn’t sure, but he thought Mrs. Sandingham might have forgotten all about the bidding war she’d been in with Savannah.

Savannah was at the bar sipping a glass of wine. Cole asked for a water.

“You’re my hero,” she said. “But I think Helen Sandingham might be a little bit in love with you.”

Cole took a long swallow of ice water. “I know. We have a hot date later.”

“She’s out of luck because I’m claiming you for myself. Thank you for distracting her so I could win the auction.”

“You’re welcome. You got the necklace you wanted?”

“I did. Time ran out so it was way too late for her to write the last bid. And I’m feeling rather smug about it, too. I should feel guilty, but I don’t.”

“No reason for you to feel guilty. You won it fairly…more or less.”

She laughed. “With a little interference from you.”

“Hey, whatever works. No holds barred in a bidding war.”

The head of the auction announced it had officially closed, and for everyone to step up and check out the list of winners. Those who had won needed to pay for their items at the back of the room.

She slipped off the bar stool. “I’ll be right back. I need to go settle up and claim my necklace, while simultaneously avoiding Helen Sandingham.”

“Sure. I’ll go with you. I need to do a little settling up of my own.”

Her brows rose. “Did you get that barbecue?”

“I’ll go find out.”

“Then I’ll meet you back at the bar.”

He nodded and waited for Savannah to disappear, then went to pay for the items he’d won. He met Savannah back at the bar about twenty minutes later. She had a gleam in her eyes and a velvet box in her hands.

“No fistfight with Mrs. Sandingham?”

“No. It turns out she had bid on a vacation in the Hamptons that she won, so she was too busy clucking about that to all her friends to worry about me and the necklace.”

“Good.”

“How about you? Did you get what you wanted?”

“I did.”

After making a few rounds and more tedious small talk, Savannah said they could leave.

Thank. God.

Though it hadn’t been as boring as Cole had thought it would be. At least the bidding war had been entertaining.

He drove Savannah back to her place.

“Would you like to come in for a drink?” she asked as he pulled into the driveway.

“Sure.”

He grabbed the bag from the backseat and followed her inside.

Savannah laid her purse on the table and strolled into the kitchen while he shut the front door. “I’ll go pour some wine.”

“Just water for me.”

“Fine. I’ll be back.”

When she came back out, she handed him the water. He handed her the bag.

She frowned. “What’s this?”

“I didn’t want to upset you, but this seemed to hold your attention at the auction. I wanted you to have it.”

She set her glass down on the table next to the sofa and opened the bag. She pulled out the music box. Her hand shook as she laid it over the box.

“Oh.” She lifted the lid and the music played. Her bottom lip trembled.

“Shit. I knew I shouldn’t have. I’ll take it.” He reached for it, but she closed the box and laid her hand over his, then lifted her gaze, her eyes filled with tears. “No. Don’t. It was so thoughtful of you to buy this for me. I can’t believe you did that.”

He shrugged. “Like I said, I knew it upset you. But I wasn’t sure if it was good memories or bad.”

She shuddered out an exhale. “A little of both, actually.”

He took the box from her hand and laid it on the coffee table, then pulled her to the sofa, reaching for her glass of wine to hand it to her. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

“I don’t like to talk about my past.”

“Maybe you should.”

She stared at the box and took a sip of wine. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

“It obviously bothers you. And you know me, I don’t leave anything unsaid, including things I probably should. I’m the best person to unload on.”

The corners of her mouth lifted in the hint of a smile. “No, you definitely don’t leave things unsaid.”

“But the media isn’t here. No one’s here but you and me. And you can trust me. I’m the last person who’s ever going to spill your secrets.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Why what?”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

He swept a curl that had escaped behind her ear. “Because something in that box opened up memories, and those memories are hurting you. And like the music in that box, it’s obviously something you’re shutting away instead of dealing with. You should talk about it—exorcise the ghost and make it go away.”

She cocked her head to the side and looked at him. “You’re a pretty smart guy.”

“And that surprises you?”

“Not at all.”

“Okay, then. Start talking.”

SEVENTEEN

SAVANNAH DIDN’T KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN, OR IF SHE should even talk about everything she’d bottled up inside.

It had been brewing for a while now. Maybe since that day she’d gone for dinner at Cole’s family’s house. It had been nice to spend time with his family, but also unsettling, seeing what he had and dislodging memories of what she’d never had. Then the conversation with Elizabeth and now the music box.

She was shocked Cole had bought the music box for her. Such a sweet gesture. Even more gallant was his willingness to sit here and listen to her problems.

What man voluntarily did that? No man she’d ever dated. Not that she and Cole were dating. They certainly weren’t. Having sex, yes. Dating …no.

He was being kind. Something that wasn’t typically attributed to him.

She was learning so many things about him.

“So? Are you going to talk?”

She shifted her focus back to him. He stared at her intently, held her hand, his thumb brushing lightly over hers. “This isn’t part of my job.”

“Consider yourself off duty, Miss Brooks. Now unload on me. Tell me about the music.”

She took a deep breath, then let it out, realizing maybe it was time to talk about it. “I mentioned it was a song my mother liked.”

“You did. You miss your mom?”

She let out a quiet laugh. “No. Yes and no. I don’t know. Not really.” She paused. “Sometimes. It’s hard to miss what you never really had.”

“Okay, that was a mouthful. Talk to me about your mom. You told me a while back it was just the two of you. Were you close?”

“No.”

That one word said a lot. Cole heard the pain and bitterness in that word. And loneliness.

“Did she have to work a lot to support the two of you?”

“Support? No, she didn’t work to support us. Mostly she was on welfare, food stamps, whatever she could do to get by. She’d work occasionally, but only when she absolutely had to, when the system made her. When I was old enough to stay alone, she’d go out at night and work—sometimes.”

He didn’t like the direction this was going. “Work where? Like as a waitress?”

She took a hard swallow of wine. “No. Not as a waitress. She’d get jobs at nightclubs as a stripper. When she got too worn down and haggard-looking from the drugs to do that, she’d just whore herself out on the streets.”

His stomach dropped. “Jesus, Savannah.”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze, instead stared at her hands. “Yeah.”

“How did you survive?”

“I stayed out of her way. She was mostly stoned all the time, so she didn’t bother with me. She’d get high and play classical music. She loved classical. And she’d play Beethoven, especially that music—the one in the music box—over and over again. She’d dance around the house—sometimes she was even fun. She’d grab me and we’d dance together. When I was little, I never knew she was high. I just thought she was fun. Until I got older and realized there was something terribly wrong about her.”

That’s why the song triggered the memories tonight. That’s why it was both a sweet and awful memory for her.

“The welfare and food stamps brought in enough food—when she remembered to go buy it. When I was old enough, I’d go get it, but I had to steal enough money from her purse to get groceries. She didn’t like to part with the cash because that was her drug money.”

“The state—”

“Did nothing. She made sure the state couldn’t take me away. I was a meal ticket for her.”

He frowned. “In what way?”

“Not the way you think. I mean I was a dependent, so the state paid her for me. She might have been a lot of things, but she never used me other than to get money from the state. She never brought guys to the apartment. She always did her…‘work’ on the streets. She kept men away from me. Always told me to never be like her. She told me to make sure to go to school every day and stay away from boys. She wanted better for me than she had.”