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“Maybe because it’s true,” Rock says. “Look at me. I thought my life was over when I lost Gillian. I thought there’d never be anyone else for me. Now here I am with Evelyn, and a pretty two-year-old daughter.” He points to a picture on his desk of his daughter, Rachel.
I nod, but don’t know how to answer.
He leans forward. “Look, Baja. It’s been years since Hannah died. At some point you’ve got to move on.”
That’s easier said than done, when the fear of that terrible pain lives inside me every day.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Elaina—
When I wake up I check my phone, I see its almost noon. I get dressed and make my way out to the main room and find Darko at the bar and a prospect behind it.
“Would you like some coffee, ma’am?” the prospect asks.
I slip onto a barstool. “Thank you.”
He pours me a mug and sets it on the bar top in front of me. “Would you like cream or sugar?”
“No thanks.” I take a sip, inhaling the rich aroma. The clubhouse is quiet, and I look over at Darko.
He lifts his cup to me. “Morning. They brew it strong as rocket fuel around here. You may want to reconsider that answer.”
I laugh. “I’m good. Do you know where Baja is?”
“Rock’s office. Bring your coffee and follow me. I’ll show you.”
He leads me down the hall to the end, and he taps on a door.
“Come in,” Rock’s deep voice bellows.
Darko twists the knob and waves me in, then closes the door. There’s a leather loveseat and chair to my left, and farther into the room, a big stone fireplace sits off to the right.
Rock is behind a big carved desk with a huge window alcove behind him and a stunning view of the mountains that momentarily distracts me.
“Good morning, Elaina,” he says, his chair creaking as he shifts, and that’s when Baja swivels around in one of two chairs facing the desk.
“There’s my girl. You sleep okay, honey?” Baja’s gaze sweeps over me, and his eyes crinkle with a smile.
“I must have. It’s almost noon.”
“That’s early around here,” Baja says, standing and taking the mug from my hand as I approach him.
When he does, I move into his arms for a hug, and he kisses my forehead.
“Have a seat,” Rock offers. “You want me to have the kitchen make you something to eat?”
“I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble.”
“No trouble.” He starts to reach for his phone.
“Please, don’t. I’m fine.”
“You sure? Rita is a fantastic cook.”
“I’m sure.”
“We were just talking about what a pretty day it is.” Rock turns and glances at the blue sky out his window. “Tomorrow is supposed to be just as beautiful. I was thinking we should go for a ride. Bring the ladies. Maybe ride out to the place that sells that great barbecue.”
