Elizabeth laughed. “Tara, you don’t have enough to hold him, and he’s way too much of a playboy to settle down. You carry too much baggage and he can’t handle it. It’s only a matter of time. You should get out now before he hurts you. You have your son to think about, after all.”
What a bitch. No wonder she was so good at her job. She knew right where to stick the knife. “I think my relationship with Mick is none of your business.”
Now her eyes narrowed. “You don’t want me to make it my business.”
“You already have. Butt out.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, then shut it, the anger leaving her expression and a bright smile replacing it. Tara could guess why.
“Hey, there you are. I’ve been hunting you down and couldn’t figure out where the hell you’d disappeared to.”
Tara turned, already figuring out Mick had showed up. “Hi, there.”
He cast a worried gaze between her and Elizabeth. “What are you and Liz doing out here?”
Elizabeth strolled past, a plastic smile on her face. She patted Mick’s arm. “Girl talk, sweetie. I was complimenting Tara on what a wonderful job she did on your parents’ anniversary party.”
Mick relaxed his shoulders and cast a warm gaze at Tara. “She’s wonderful, isn’t she?”
Elizabeth kissed Mick on the cheek. “A peach.” She winked at Tara as she walked through he door. “We’ll talk again later, Tara.”
Mick’s gaze followed Liz, then he turned back to Tara. “What was that all about?”
Tara didn’t need Mick to intervene on her behalf, and the last thing she wanted was to cause friction between him and his agent. Elizabeth didn’t like her. So what? Tara could handle it. And if Elizabeth was right about Mick, then there was nothing she could do about it, was there? “Just chatting about the party and football. And you, of course.”
“Was she giving you a hard time?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. So, are you having fun?”
“No.”
Tara frowned. “Why not?”
“Because I couldn’t find you. Where’ve you been?”
“I’m the event planner, remember? Trying to make sure everything’s in place, and seeing that everyone is having a good time.”
His lips lifted. “My parents are having a good time, which is all that matters. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Silence stretched between them, and she hated it. “Mick ...”
He took her hands in his. “Let’s sit down.”
“Okay.”
He led her to the stone bench near the fountain, then sat next to her. She half turned to face him.
“Tell me what’s bothering you, Tara.”
“Nothing’s bothering me, other than me needing to apologize to you.”
He cocked his head to the side. “For what?”
“For blaming my failures—and Nathan’s—on you. I was a mess the other day when Nathan got drunk. I wasn’t there when it happened, and for some reason I felt I should have been.”
He rubbed her hand with the pad of his thumb. “So now you’re supposed to be psychic?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. This parenting thing is hard. And doing it by myself all these years has been even harder. Sometimes I fail. A lot of times I fail.”
“Guess what? Even two-parent families fail. No one’s perfect at raising kids.”
She took a glance through the doors at Mick’s parents, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes as they slow danced. “Some manage to get it right without screwing up.”
“You think my parents raised perfect kids?” He tilted his head back and laughed, then got serious again. “I think there are a few things you need to know about me, Tara. I’m not perfect. Never have been and never will be. I made mistakes when I was young. I messed up. Bad.”
She crossed her arms. “I find that hard to believe. Look where you are now.”
“Right. But you only see the finished product. You don’t see what it took to get me here.” He looked around. “There’s something I need to talk to you about, but not here. Later, when we get back to the house. It’s important, and it has to do with your idea of perfection. And Nathan, too.”
She cast him a questioning look. “I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t, but I don’t want to talk about it here where there are so many people. Can we table this conversation for later?”
“Sure.”
He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Let’s go inside and dance. Show me your disco moves.”
She let out a soft laugh. “Oh, Lord. I might need some dance lessons from your mother before I attempt the hustle.”
He slid her hand in the crook of his arm. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
THIRTEEN