She sighed, looking down at the table and the twenty-dollar bill Yiayia had left, considering how easy it would be to simply offer to get food and not delve into her family history. Not that she was ashamed of her father, but it helped if a person had met him before they heard his background.
“It’s kind of a complicated situation.”
He gave a dry laugh. “These days? Whose isn’t? Tell you what.” He put his hand over hers, the touch light, but somehow still strong and reassuring. “You tell me your family mess, and I’ll tell you mine.”
“It’s not a mess,” she said quickly. “It’s just…oh well. You’ll hear it around school sooner or later.”
“I’m intrigued.” He scooted his chair a little closer, smiling. “And I promise I won’t judge.”
For a long moment, she looked at him, waiting for more butterfly shenanigans in her belly. But the feeling inside her wasn’t quite as nervous anymore, or even excited. Now she felt something completely different. More like friendship, but different. A connection, a budding trust, and oh yeah, all kinds of attraction.
Suddenly, she very much wanted to share her story, if only to see his reaction. Some people recoiled. Some people pitied. And yeah, plenty of people judged.
“My dad was in prison for fourteen years, and I didn’t meet him until he got out.”
His brows lifted. “Not what I would have guessed from the future valedictorian.”
Wow, he had been paying attention to her in school. “I was as surprised as anyone,” she said. “And he was in for…manslaughter.”
“You were surprised? You didn’t know where he was?”
For some reason, she liked that he didn’t react to manslaughter. “I didn’t know who he was,” she admitted. “I was raised by a single mom who was very discreet and quiet about my father.”
“Because he was in prison?” he guessed.
“She had no idea he was there,” she told him. “He stopped a man from attacking a woman in a parking lot when he was working as a bouncer at a bar. He accidentally pushed the guy, who hit his head and died. He didn’t, you know, set out to kill anyone. But my mom didn’t know any of this.”
“She didn’t wonder where he was?”
“They didn’t really know each other,” she admitted. “It was a one-night stand. In the back of a van designed for hauling around foster dogs.”
His eyes flashed, and that almost-smile threatened. “The dog thing runs deep, huh?”
She laughed with him, ridiculously pleased with the complete lack of judgment in his response. “But long story short? He showed up in Bitter Bark after he got out, needed a vet, hired my mom, and now…” She beamed at him. “They’re married, happy, and I have a baby brother named Danny.”
His jaw loosened. “Wow. That’s cool.”
She really loved that response. “Yeah, it is.” She glanced around, remembering that they were supposed to be RACKing up points and watching for FBI agents on a sting…not sitting here like they were on a date. “We forgot to watch for the guys coming out of the bathroom,” she reminded him.
“Totally distracted.” His look was a little smoky, but charming, too. Nothing like…well, like she expected. “But they haven’t come out.” He nodded toward the restroom entrance behind her. “I’m keeping an eye out for them. And what’s next on your RACKing list? Sing a few carols? Hand out free bottles of water?”
“I guess we could…” She reached for her bag, then stopped and looked at him. “Wait. You promised to tell me your family story if I told you mine.”
“Oh yeah.” He waved it off. “That’s not going to get us any points.”
“You’re not in this for points,” she said, studying him openly. “You need a community service hour or two to finish the semester.”
“Guilty, but now I’m all in. Let’s RACK, Kilcannon. Or, Bancroft.”
She smiled. “Okay…Darling.” As soon as she said it, she felt the warmth of a blush creep up her cheeks, and he laughed easily.
“That’s not my name,” he admitted. “So we have that in common.”
“It’s not?” She shook her head. “Then why…”
“My dad’s real last name is Dildenberg. Stop laughing right now.”
She bit her lip. “That is…unfortunate.”
“He was an actor back in the eighties, and his agent made him change his name for obvious reasons, and they came up with Darling since he was supposed to be, you know, the next Leo DiCaprio or George Clooney.”
“Did he get famous?” she asked.
“Not as an actor. And not really famous, because no one knows the producers outside of the Hollywood circles, but yeah. He’s made movies I guarantee you’ve heard of.”
“And your mom?”
“She remarried and now she’s a…professional wife.” He made a face like there was way more to that story.
“Is your dad remarried?”
“No, he just has a harem of wannabe actresses.” He rolled his eyes. “Never knew who I’d find in the kitchen when I came down for breakfast.”
“You live with your dad? I would have thought your mom.”
“He’s the lesser of two evils,” he explained. “And my mom travels with her husband, who is…” He leaned in and looked from one side to the other. “The drummer for Split Second.”
“The band? The Split Second? My dad loves their music.” A slow smile formed as she put a few puzzle pieces together. “So your father is a rock star.”
“Stepfather, who I barely speak to.”
“Wow. So, what’s so messy? I mean, lots of people have divorced and remarried parents.”
“The mess is money,” he said without a second’s hesitation. “Money—at least the kind they both have—makes people messy. And stupid. And mean. And careless. And…” His voice trailed off as he shifted his gaze over her shoulder. “Could that be the FBI agents?”
She turned, saw two men, and assessed them. “They meet the description.”
“Let’s watch where they go.” He shifted his chair, one hand sliding into Tor’s collar as if he half expected the dog to run after the two men.
But when the men went to the line for Chick-fil-A and ordered, Pru and Lucas leaned back and shared a look.
“Should we go tell them their target went to Penney’s?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Pru shook her head and scanned the mall for any sign of the grannies. “Gramma and Yiayia have been known to make mistakes in their, uh, interpretation of things.”
“The Dogmothers?” He chuckled. “I love that they have a team name.”
“They’re matchmakers,” she said. “And they claim six committed relationships, including several marriages and one set of twins on the way.”
“Matchmakers?” He choked a laugh. “They still exist?”
“In my family,” she said, shaking her head and hoping he didn’t put two and two together and come up with…Prucas. God help her. She propped her chin on her palm. “So, you just moved yourself to Bitter Bark from Los Angeles? You weren’t, like, sent here as punishment?”