“Now I’m sensing a ‘but’ in the conversation.”
“But he’s dangerous. The whole fame thing is uncomfortable. I don’t want to be a bright star in the world. I want my life to be anchored here. I want normal.”
“Josh is very normal and this is his home.”
“For now. But what happens when he competes again? What happens if he makes his comeback? He becomes successful racer-guy again. I’m not saying I don’t want that. If it makes him happy, if it heals him, then he should go for it. But I’m not interested in someone who needs the approval of the world to feel good about himself.”
“Is that what you think he wants?”
“I’m not sure,” Charity admitted. “But I’m worried about it. I want to be in a relationship where I’m the most important person in someone’s life. I want to feel the same way about him. I can’t compete with an adoring crowd.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t have to.”
“Maybe.” Charity was less sure. “For now, it’s not an issue. We’re getting to know each other.”
Marsha smiled. “Be careful. That’s how every great love begins.”
AFTER JOSH FINISHED working out with the team, he went back to the hotel and showered. When he was dressed, he glanced at the clock. Charity wouldn’t leave work for another couple of hours. He could go into his office, but he wasn’t in the mood. Restlessness drove him out of the hotel. He walked along the sidewalk, no destination in mind. Then he turned a corner and saw a sign for a familiar business.
Hendrix Construction had been around for about forty years. Ethan’s grandfather had started the company, and his father had taken it over a decade later. When they’d been kids, Ethan had sworn he wasn’t going to follow anyone into the family business. A few weeks after Ethan had graduated from college, his father had died unexpectedly. As the oldest son, it fell to him to take over the company and keep it going.
Maybe Ethan had planned for one of his brothers to join him or buy him out, but that hadn’t happened. Nearly ten years later, Ethan ran both the construction and the windmill businesses.
Josh stared at the building. He could see several people inside and wondered if Ethan was one of them. For all he knew his former friend could be at a job site or out at the windmill building plant. Still, he could walk over and find out.
He took a step, then stopped. Not counting the phone messages he’d left, it had been a long time since he’d talked to Ethan. Over ten years. He wasn’t sure what to say. The truth was he hadn’t done anything wrong. Ethan’s injury wasn’t his responsibility or his fault. So why did he feel so damned bad about it?
Knowing there was only one way to get the answer, he crossed the street and walked into the office.
Nevada Hendrix, one of Ethan’s sisters, sat on the reception desk, her feet dangling. Her jeans and T-shirt were smudged with plaster dust, her boots worn and practical, rather than a fashion statement. She gestured intensely as she spoke.
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” she was saying. “About all of it. If you would just shut up and—” She raised her head and saw Josh. “Dear God!”
She jumped off the desk and stared at him. “You’re here.”
“In the flesh. Is he here?”
He didn’t have to tell Nevada who he meant.
“Ah, sure. In his office.” She gestured toward the rear of the building.
“I can find it,” he told her, then pointed to the receiver she held. “You’re still on a call.”
“What? Oh.” She returned her attention to the call.
He walked between the desks, which were mostly empty. The engineers and sales staff would be out calling on customers or at job sites.
At the rear of the building was a large lunch room, an alcove with office supplies and several big printers, and a single door with Ethan’s name on it. Josh knocked once, then pushed it open.
Ethan sat behind his desk, working on his computer. His expression was intense as he used his mouse.
“Not my problem,” he said, his attention still on the screen. “I don’t care about your engineering degree. You’re wrong about the bridge and I’m going to prove it to you.”
“Huh. And here I thought I had a business degree.”
Ethan looked up. He raised his eyebrows. “I thought you were Nevada.”
“Apparently.”
Ethan motioned to the seat across from his desk, saved his work, then faced Josh. “This is a surprise.”
“For me, too,” Josh admitted before sitting. “I came to talk to you.”
Ethan stared at him, his expression unreadable. “So talk.”
Now that he was here, Josh didn’t know what to say. He’d had ten years to plan for this conversation and the hell of it was, he couldn’t remember half of what had happened between them.
“I’ve left you phone messages,” he said. “First every few months and then every couple of years, I tried to get in touch with you.”
Ethan’s left eyebrow raised. “The effort was very meaningful.”