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The Wrong Man For Her
“No, I meant it when I said I think it’s better for the kids. The other counselors agree.” She studied him. “You have a tough group there, Nick. I’ve already met with each of them. You’ll need all the help you can get.”
“I’ve read their files.” He planned to have them memorized by the time he met with the kids.
“Then you know what’s ahead of you.”
“Who’s the other counselor?”
“I’m not sure. I have three people interested, but I have to get the funding before I can hire someone. I’m expecting confirmation today.”
“Maybe it won’t come through,” he said almost to himself.
“I hope it does. Don’t forget, you’ll be doing more than counseling. You’ve got to oversee the kids’ legal situations, restitution and a whole slew of other details.”
“There are people working here who take care of those areas.”
“But you have to determine what those people need to do and make sure that everything is being done. Your job involves a lot of juggling.”
He shook his head.
She stared at him. “You’re going to have to learn to play nice with others, Nick. No matter how much you need to keep that personal shield around you.”
He hadn’t expected a dig so soon, especially after she’d asked him to stay. “Is that what this is all about, our former relationship?”
“No.” Her face reddened. “And don’t ever accuse me of that again.”
He drummed his fingers on the table. “Look, I don’t want to argue with you.”
“We aren’t arguing. You’ll have another counselor in the group with you, period. And I’m entitled to know your plans for the kids, what you’re doing, how it’s going.”
“You want to know, or approve my plans?”
She sighed heavily. “I’m sure there won’t be much disagreement between us about those things. We do have different styles, as you say, but I never opposed yours when we worked together before. I don’t know why you think I would now.”
Leaning back in the chair, he tried to appear relaxed and confident. “All right. I’ll agree to that. But I’m not coming to the staff support group.” Surely she’d let him off this one. She knew how hard it was for him to open up, damn it. He’d only recently been able to talk about his feelings with his brother Dan and sister-in-law, Tessa. His close relationship with them was one of the reasons he’d come to Rockford when they’d decided to relocate here.
“You have no choice in that, either.”
“It’s not my thing, Maddie.”
“If you’ve read the psychology journals lately you know that having a staff support group prevents burnout and alleviates stress. I’m not flying by the seat of my pants on this, Nick. And for the record, I’m well aware of your personality. This, however, is nonnegotiable.” She drew in a breath and seemed to collect herself. “You can pass on the personal stuff if you have to.”
“Personal stuff?”
“Each week we share a professional success and challenge and a personal success and challenge.”
“Oh, great.”
“It is great. After the first few meetings, the staff voted unanimously to keep the sessions going.”
He stared at her.
“And I provide lunch. Sometimes I even cook.”
“That’s a switch. When we were together, you could barely boil water. I cooked for you all the time.”
“I take cooking classes. And please don’t refer to our personal relationship.”
“Why? Your subtext is referring to it all the time.” When she didn’t respond, he watched her. “How are you, really?”
Her intense gaze never wavered from his. “I’m good, Nick, really good.” She stood. “I’ll show you your office.” She gestured around the room. “This is where you’ll hold your support groups.”
Nick studied the formal space with its dark cherry paneling and furniture. “Unacceptable.”
She sighed, exasperated. “Why?”
“I can’t hold a support group here for kids. It has no teen atmosphere.”
Her eyes sparked with interest this time.
“We need a place to call ours. Teen-friendly furniture, posters on the wall, books and materials spread around. I’ll also need a fridge for snacks, personal journals for each kid, arts and crafts materials.”
“Sounds like you have things all planned out.”
“As you said, I know what I’m doing.”
“Yes, of course you do.”
“Is my office big enough to turn into a group room?”
She thought for a minute. “We can do better than that. Come on, I’ll show you a storage area that you can use. It’ll need some work, though it does have big windows.”
“Thanks. For giving in on this.”
“I’m not giving in. I never had any intention of blocking good ideas. I will not, however, let you steamroll me.”
“Of course you won’t.”
She started to gather her papers.
“I’d like to say one more thing.”
“What?”
“I, um, want to apologize for everything that happened in the past. How I behaved.” He cringed, thinking of the last time he’d seen that pretty face of hers; it had been awash with tears. The last thing he’d heard that husky voice say was, You’re leaving because I thought I was pregnant, aren’t you? “I’m sorry, Maddie.”
“Apology accepted. In return, I’d like your promise not to bring up our past again. We need to concentrate on helping people here. Are you capable of doing that? Because if you’re not, this will never work.”
For some reason, he felt offended. “I’m capable of doing that. Obviously, we’ve both gone on with our lives.”
“Yes, we have. Best you remember that, Nick.”
“I will, Dr. Walsh.”
CHAPTER TWO
“WATCH OUT THERE, beautiful, you’re up damn high.”
Tessa smiled down at Nick from the ladder, which allowed her to reach the twelve-foot ceiling of his newly designated group session room.
“Because you’re afraid of heights, doesn’t mean everyone is.” Tessa giggled at his phobia. It was good to see his sister-in-law happy after the trouble she and his brother had last summer. A man from her past had stalked her and ended up dead. The scandal almost destroyed their marriage. “Anyway, it makes you human.”
“Oh, I’m all too human.” He tapped the side of the paint can. “You sure about this color?”
“The kids will like it. Blue is soothing, makes people more relaxed. Its deep shade won’t be too prissy for teenagers.” She scanned the area she’d already done. “The four windows are great and there’s enough room for the kids to sprawl out. But maybe we could have waited for them to pick out the color.”
“No, I’ll let them choose what stuff to put up on the walls. I want them to feel welcome here at the first session. Lucky me that you had today off and could help paint.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m expecting the furniture tonight, so we’d better get going.”
Roller in hand, he began to slather paint on the parts of the wall he could reach, while Tessa cut in from the top. They made small talk as they worked. “Everything going well at the Villa?” he asked.
Tessa had taken a job as a librarian at a local teen detention center. Much like him, she worked well with troubled kids because she’d been one herself.
“Couldn’t be better. I got a grant from the New York State Arts Foundation for more books and am itching to spend it.”
“I’d be interested in what you’re ordering. I was hoping to have some teen lit in here.”
“I could do some research into adolescent literature about victimization.” She cocked her head. “One author I know of is David Pelzer.”
“Yeah, his books are gruesome enough to snag the kids’ attention.” Pelzer had been abused by his mother for years and vividly recounted his experiences in his writing.
“He’s coming to town for Crime Victims’ Rights Week.”
“Really?” Nick said. “Nobody told me about it. Then again, nobody told me about a lot of things.”
“The Villa clients are going. Your kids probably can, too.”
From the corner, soft rock drifted out from the CD player as they continued their task.
“What did you mean, nobody told you about a lot of things?” Tessa asked.
He hesitated. “Madelyn’s back at the Center.”
Tessa stopped painting and looked down at him. “What?”
When she and Dan had put pressure on him to move to Rockford, Nick had confessed to them what had happened between him and Maddie. God, he hated to talk about his failures, even with people who loved him.
He also explained about John and Lucy.
“I’m so sorry. I know how close you are to them. Is Lucy all right?”
“Yes, but John’s easing off on his work here because of her.”
“That must have been a hard decision for him to make.”
Tessa was right about that. John’s daughter, Zoe, had been beaten and raped, then shot to death twenty years ago. The Kramer family had practically fallen apart and there’d been no organizations to help them out. After they’d begun to heal, John had vowed to do something in Zoe’s memory for other crime victims’ families, as well as for the victims themselves.
Nick smiled, proud of the fact that, two decades later, the Kramer Group, which eventually became the Rockford Crime Victims Center, was one of the most renowned victim assistance organizations in the state.
“It gets worse, Tessa.”
“How?”
“Madelyn’s my boss.”
This time, she climbed down from the ladder. “Oh, Nick. How on earth is that going to work?”
“It has to. John needs us both and you know how I feel about abandoning people.”
“I guess.” Her expression was trouble. “How is Madelyn?”
“Distant.” He rolled harder, faster. “In charge!”
“Damn. We wanted you to come to Rockford with us, but working with her won’t be easy.”
“I can’t believe it.” He set the roller down and whipped off his overshirt, revealing a ragged University of Rockford T-shirt. “She wants to check everything I do.”
“Well, you can’t blame her, if she runs the place now.” Tessa picked up her bottle of water and sipped from it. She looked about twenty in her jeans, T-shirt and curly hair, though she was thirty-eight, his age.
“Tell me about it. Her new policy also dictates I work with another counselor in the support group. I’m trying to block that.”
Tessa’s gaze focused on him.
“What?”
“Do you think that’s best for the kids?”
He crossed to the fridge Maddie had gotten for him yesterday afternoon and retrieved a bottle of soda. “You think I’m being unreasonable?”
Tessa dropped to the floor and patted the space beside her. “Sit.” When he joined her, she said, “Two people to help eight clients? You can play off each other’s observations. Talk things over. Seems ideal to me.”
“That’s what Maddie said.” He peeled back the label on the bottle with his thumbnail. “I hope my judgment hasn’t clouded by my relationship with her.”
“Your past relationship.”
“What’d I say?”
Tessa leaned against the ladder. “Nick, are you certain you’re over Madelyn? Because if you’re not, things could get really rough with you working here.”
“Excuse me.”
Nick and Tessa glanced to the open doorway where Maddie now stood. Any fleeting hope he might have had that she hadn’t overheard Tessa’s comment was squashed by the tightness in her jaw and the squint around her eyes. She was dressed in a dark pink workout suit that looked great with her coloring. She hadn’t been wearing the casual clothes this morning.
Nick rolled to his feet. “Hi, Maddie.”
He pulled Tessa up. Maddie’s eyes focused on their clasped hands.
“Madelyn Walsh, this is Tessa Logan. My brother’s wife.”
A polite smile. The women shook hands. “Hi, Tessa.”
There was no I’ve heard about you. Nick talked to me about contacting you, reuniting with his family. I urged him to do it.
Instead, Maddie gestured to the room. “Looks terrific in here. I like the color.”
Tessa jabbed his ribs. “See, I told you.”
“It’s nice of you to come to help, Tessa. I offered to get some volunteers in to do this for him, but he wanted to do it by himself. His usual M.O.”
“He isn’t painting alone. My family will be here to pitch in—” she checked her watch “—anytime. I hope you get to meet them.”
“I’m sorry, I probably won’t. I’m leaving soon. I have a yoga class at six.” She tugged on her top’s drawstring. “Hence the suit.”
She was taking yoga? And cooking classes?
“Yoga?” Tessa’s face brightened. “I’ve been planning to find a studio. Would you recommend yours?”
“Yes. It’s the best yoga center in Rockford. I’ll pick up a brochure for you and give it to Nick.” To him, she said, “I stopped in to tell you that I have bad news. The funding for a second counselor to help you run the group was denied. We’ve got a call into Albany, where the money was supposed to come from, but John doesn’t hold out much hope.”
Tessa and Nick exchanged glances.
“That’s unfortunate. Tessa was just telling me what a good idea it was.”
“Yes, I heard Tessa and you talking.”
Nick shifted uncomfortably.
“In any case, I’m not giving up. We’ll have someone by tomorrow afternoon even if I have to assign another staff member.”
“Seems to me everybody’s already overextended.”
“Schedules are full, yes. I’ll keep you informed.” She pointed to the walls. “Again, this looks great. Tessa, nice to meet you.”
Maddie had just started away when two whirlwinds burst through the door. They collided with her, and she stumbled backward. Nick grabbed her by the arms.
Amidst the screeches of his nieces’—“Sorry…” and “Oh, no…” and his brother’s deep, “Girls…uh-oh…”—Nick was aware of only one thing.
Maddie close to him again. Her upper arms were solid, supple. The shampoo she used smelled like lilacs. Her hair brushed his cheek, its texture still silky.
She recovered before he did. Wrenching out of his grasp, she righted herself.
“I’m sorry.” Dan drew one of his daughters close. “My kids were anxious to see their uncle. This is Sara.” He patted the other’s head. “And this is Molly.”
“Hello. I’m Madelyn Walsh.”
Dan’s eyebrows skyrocketed and he threw Nick a questioning look. Nick shrugged.
“Did we hurt you?” Molly asked.
“Um…no, no, I’m fine.”
Nick cleared his throat. “Sorry. The girls are overexuberant.”
Breaking away from Dan, Sara approached Maddie and stood before her. “Sorry, ma’am.”
She smiled at his niece, a genuine, pure-Maddie smile that had often been directed at him in the past. Nick was mesmerized by it. “Don’t worry, honey, no harm done.”
Not to her, maybe. After holding her, even briefly, Nick knew he would spend another night tearing the covers off the bed. Any physical contact with this woman was going to ruin his peace of mind.
Tessa came forward. “Madelyn, this is my husband, Dan.”
“Nice to meet you.” Maddie nodded to his family. “All of you.” She’d never met them before because Nick had been estranged from Dan when he and Maddie were together.
Dan kept a poker face, but Nick could guess what he was thinking. “You, too.”
“Nice to bump into you,” Molly said, chuckling.
Maddie gave a short laugh and the tension eased. “If you’ll excuse me. Nick, I’ll get back to you on the grant.”
Nick watched her leave. When he turned around, he caught sight of Dan’s face. “What?” he asked.
THE YOGA INSTRUCTOR, Hillary, sat in the middle of the wooden floor in lotus position. Early March meant the days turned dark at 6:00 p.m., and the inside of the cavernous loft of Open Heart Yoga was in shadows. “Keep your eyes closed,” Hillary said softly, “chin down, sternum up, tailbone settling into the floor or bolster.”
As Madelyn had only taken classes for two years, she was elevated on a cushion, her legs merely crossed, not sliding easily into a complete lotus. Beside her, Bethany Hunter, who’d been at this since she was twenty, was in perfect harmony with the instructor.
Blank your mind. Don’t think. Concentrate on the light. Breathe in. Out.
Still, no harmony. Damn it! Damn him!
“Madelyn, ease the tension in your shoulders. Get rid of that frown.”
Chastised by the instructor, Madelyn tried like hell to relax.
For an hour and a half.
It never happened.
When the final namaste came, Madelyn’s stomach was still in knots.
“That felt terrific,” Beth said, stretching out her legs and wiggling her toes.
“Yeah, terrific.”
Her friend nodded to the huge statue on the front altar. “Buddha will smite you for lying in his sanctuary.”
“I know somebody else he can smite instead.”
Beth stood. She was a tall, graceful woman with a slender body and a core of inner strength. “Come on, let’s put our props away and go get juice.”
When they were settled into a corner of the juice bar downstairs, Beth sipped her cranberry drink. “It didn’t go so well with Nick?”
“On how many levels do you want to hear about it?”
“All of them.” She squeezed Madelyn’s hand. “I wish I’d been at work the last two days.”
“You had your own problems, Beth.” She took a swig of her drink, enjoying the tart pineapple flavor. “It was hard to see him.”
“I’ll bet that’s an understatement. How’d he react to the news about Lucy? And you?”
“He was shocked.” She tried hard not to feel sorry for him. She had to stifle all emotional involvement with this man, or the floodgates would open.
“Still think you can work with him?” When John had asked her to come back and then told her Nick was also returning, she and Beth had discussed the issue at length. Beth had advised against it.
“Yep. I can. For John and for the Center.”
“Tell me about the meeting.”
“Right off the bat, he objected to the schedule sheets. Then he balked at the idea of running his program by me.”
“Nick doesn’t deal well with authority.” Beth smiled. “It’s one of the reasons he understands kids so well.”
“He tried to talk me out of a second counselor for his group sessions and absolutely refuses to participate in the staff support group.”
“I warned you about the last thing. But objecting to the additional counselor is bad judgment. And I’m kind of surprised. He usually sees what’s best for kids.”
“Well, we ambushed the hell out of him with my being his boss.”
To be fair, Madelyn also told Beth about the space he’d set up for the teens. However, she didn’t mention that while he’d been painting the room, he’d been talking to his lovely sister-in-law about her or that, when his nieces had unbalanced Madelyn, Nick had grabbed on to her. That slight touch had brought back so many associations. At that moment, she’d realized she couldn’t afford to get anywhere near him physically. She’d have to keep her distance—a lot like an alcoholic had to stay away from booze.
“Always the innovator. That’s the Nick Logan I know and love.”
Madelyn clenched her hands in her lap.
Insightful, and closer to Madelyn than any other human being, Beth watched her friend for a minute. “Maddie, I know you hated that I talked to him after he left you and had an e-mail correspondence with him, but A, I’m a minister and I can’t turn away people in need. And B, he suffered. Almost as much as you did.”
Madelyn drew in a breath that would make Hillary proud and released it slowly. “I realize all that. And I’m glad you were there for him. He got cold feet and ditched me but I was still in love with him.”
“He ditched you because he was in love with you, too. In his words, he ‘couldn’t handle how his life had begun to revolve around you.’”
She shook her head. “You don’t leave someone because you love them too much.” She arched a brow. “And I bet he never used the L-word to you. I know he didn’t to me. It’s not in his vocabulary.” Of course, Madelyn had held back that particular declaration, too.
A silence. “Isn’t that a little unfair? You know what caused his commitment issues.” Beth hesitated. “You knew it when you got involved with him.”
After Daniel Logan Sr. had embezzled a half million dollars out of the bank he worked at and gone to jail for it, Nick had rebelled. Because she couldn’t handle him, his mother had kicked Nick out of her house when he was sixteen. A “tough love” kind of thing that had backfired in ways Claire Logan couldn’t have imagined.
Still what Nick had done to Maddie was unforgivable. “At some point, you have to stop blaming your past for your present insecurities and faults and take control of your life.”
Across the table, Beth gave her an indulgent smile. “You’re so strong, Maddie. Not everybody could overcome what you did.”
Madelyn shivered, remembering her absent father, her alcoholic mother and how she’d practically supported herself since she was eleven. For most of her early life, she’d been intimately acquainted with the word impoverished.
“Because you overcame such odds, you think everybody else can, too.”
“Maybe. But, Beth, he’s a psychotherapist, he should be able to figure out a way to deal with his personal issues.”
Beth laughed. “If that were true, I’d be able to forgive my ex for all the damage he’s done. I’m a minister, but truthfully, when he disappoints Parker, I want to kill the S.O.B.”
Madelyn loved Bethany like a sister and didn’t want to fight with her, especially over Nick. “Let’s stop talking about Nick. I can’t change the things that happened in the past. I can just try to work with him at the Center.”
“What are you going to do about the additional counselor?”
“No money for one. But I’m not going to let a little thing like that violate my new policy.”
“Can you assign Reid to help?”
“No. He’s taking a vacation—long overdue. There’s something going on in his family he won’t talk about, but I gather this time away is important.”
“John can’t do it.”
“No, it would be too much of a burden now.”
“I’d help out but I can’t afford any more time out of the house. Parker needs me there.”
“I wouldn’t let you anyway. You already put in more hours than the local ministerium pays you for.” Beth was a part-time pastor at a local church, and her part-time salary at the Center was footed by a group of inner-city churches. “How is Parker?”
“Better.” Beth scowled. “I’m so mad at his father. He canceled their plans on Sunday, which sent my son into a serious depression.”
“I’m mad at him, too.”
They chuckled, as if being angry at the men in their pasts would help.
Beth studied Madelyn with what Madelyn called her minister look. “You aren’t thinking about doing the counseling yourself, are you Maddie?”
She didn’t say anything.
“That would be a very bad decision.”
“I know.” Her throat tightened at the mere thought. “And I swear to God, I don’t want to work that closely with Nick.”
“We’ll find another way.”
“By three o’clock tomorrow?”
“Hey, God does some of Her best work on deadline.”
Madelyn laughed, and so did Beth. Once again, Madelyn was grateful to have this woman in her life.
She had a lot to be grateful for. Friends like Beth and John. A job she loved. Enough material things.
Hearing a thud from above where another yoga session had started, she vowed not to let Nick Logan ruin one more class, one more hour, one more minute of her good and happy life.
“WHAT ARE YOU still doing here?”
Nick turned to find John in the doorway of the newly painted group session room. “Is it that late?”
“Eight o’clock.”
“I wanted to finish up as much as I could tonight.” He scanned the area. “Not too shabby for one day’s work, is it?”
John wandered inside. “Who paid for these?” He swiped his hand over a beanbag chair, one of a set of four. “And the futon? And the director’s chairs?”
He missed the table and “kewl” lamps, as Nick’s nieces had called them.
“Everything was cheap. I got it all at the furniture warehouse outlet.”