“Tell me about it.” Molly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. As she brought her hand down, she noticed the ring on her finger. “Janet, do you remember Dylan Black?”
Her sister laughed. “There’s a change in subject. Of course. He’s the bad boy from my past. Dark and dangerous and so completely wrong for me. Thank goodness Thomas came along and rescued me from myself. I haven’t thought of him in years. Why do you ask?”
“When I was packing, I found the ring he gave me. The wedding ring he bought you. I still have it, and finding it made me think of him.”
“Let me see. He was at the ten-year high school reunion, although that was nearly five years ago. He has a custom motorcycle design firm in Riverside. Black something, I can’t remember. The rumors were, he was doing well for himself.”
“Interesting,” Molly said, and changed the subject. They talked for a few more minutes, then Molly again promised she would think seriously about joining Janet and her family up north. If she didn’t do that, she would at least let them know where she was going to be.
After the phone call, it took her another half hour to finish packing. Then Molly moved the suitcase into the living room, sat on her sofa and stared at the bag. Now what? Where did she go? She wanted to escape from her life for a week or two, to be in a place where she could forget what had happened, while trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her future.
A cruise? A train trip to New York? Maybe she could go to Acapulco and stay drunk for a week. Of course, one margarita made her silly, while two knocked her on her butt for the rest of the evening, so staying drunk would be virtually impossible. She needed a plan.
Her gaze fell on the ring. She turned her hand to make the gold glimmer. Even after all this time, she could still remember the thrill of that moment, when Dylan had given her the ring. Of course, he hadn’t meant it as a romantic gesture at all. It had been his way of letting her know that he hadn’t forgotten his promise to her. That one day when she was grown up, the two of them would take off on an adventure. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
As Molly stared at the ring, an idea took hold. It was silly and foolish. She would be completely insane if she did it. After all, it had been years. He wouldn’t even remember her, would he?
She rose to her feet. “It’s a start,” she whispered to herself. “A place to go in the morning.” And she needed that more than anything. The rest of it didn’t matter.
She would do this one crazy thing and visit Dylan Black, then she would go on from there. At least going to see him would give her journey a beginning. Maybe after that, she would head up north to stay with her sister. It didn’t matter. All that she wanted was to run away so she could finally forget.
* * *
Dylan Black slammed down the phone and glared at it.
Evie, his assistant, raised her dark eyebrows.
“Destroying the office equipment doesn’t seem overly productive to me, but then, I’m just the hired help.”
Dylan leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about it.” He looked at her. “They’re making the deal too hard to resist. I can’t decide if I’m moving forward or selling my soul to the devil.”
“If they’re the devil, his prices have gone up. Most people I know would sell their souls for a lot less than several million dollars.”
Dylan had to agree. But then, many people put much too low a price on their souls. He wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly why they were tempting him—they wanted what he had. For them, this was a win-win situation. But what was it for him?
Evie shook her head. “You’ve got that pensive look about you. I hate it when you get like that, so I’m going to head back to the front office. If you need anything, buzz me.”
“I will, thanks.”
She closed the door behind her.
Dylan turned his chair until he was staring out the window. The rugged, dry wilderness of the California desert stretched out behind the one-story complex. His critics said that establishing his custom motorcycle design firm, Black Lightning, out in the middle of Riverside had been a huge mistake. But the land had been cheap, there was a good labor pool and Dylan had wanted plenty of open space around him. It got hot as hell in the summer and he was nearly two hours from the Los Angeles International Airport, but all that was a small price to pay for autonomy. He’d poured everything he had into the company. In less than five years, he’d proved his critics wrong. Now he was touted as a visionary in the industry—the magician who set the trends. So why was he thinking of selling out?
He already knew the reason, and it had nothing to do with magic or even the devil. He was willing to sell his company because the deal on the table was too sweet to pass up. Not only was he being offered an obscene amount of money, but he had a guaranteed position in the new firm. He would finally have the resources to do all the research he wanted. He could design to his heart’s content. All those projects that had been on the back burner could finally be explored. He would be a fool to pass up the offer.
Except for one detail. Along with the money and the new job offer came a boss to answer to. Dylan knew himself well enough to realize that would be a problem. The question was how big of one and could he live with the consequences? He would gain resources and lose control of Black Lightning. His lawyer had been on his back for weeks. After all, this was the chance of a lifetime.
But his gut kept whispering that he had to wait and think this through. After all, he’d been the one to work twenty-hour days for all those years. The innovative designs were his. He’d taken the bikes on the racing circuit, sometimes giving them to riders so that new systems could be tested under the most grueling conditions. He’d poured himself into the company. How could he sell that? It would be like selling an arm or a leg.
Money versus principles. An age-old dilemma. Philosophers had been discussing that issue back when the earth’s crust was still cooling. So which was it to be?
This would, he admitted, be a whole lot easier if he wasn’t so much of a cynic. Years ago, when he’d still been a dreamer, he would have been insulted by the implication that he could be bought. If his then lawyer had even hinted at a buyout, Dylan would have shown him the door, then fired his corporate ass. When had life ceased to be so simple?
“The hell with it,” he muttered, figuring he didn’t have to decide right now. The interested company had given him until December 23rd to set up a preliminary meeting. If he still refused by Christmas, they were withdrawing their offer. So he would wait until something changed, until he knew which side to fall on. In the meantime, there were reports to review.
He turned back to his computer, then started tapping on keys. He’d just lost himself in the quarterly statements, when Evie buzzed him on the intercom.
“You have a visitor,” she said. “Molly Anderson. She doesn’t have an appointment, Dylan, but she says you’ll remember her from several years ago.”
It took him a second, then the memories clicked in place. Little Molly, Janet’s baby sister. He did remember her, with her pale, curly hair and big eyes. She’d been a sweet kid. He recalled she’d had a crush on him. Usually that kind of stuff annoyed him, but in Molly’s case he’d been flattered. Maybe because in her case he’d known exactly what she’d wanted from him. She’d been easy to read, and had had a basically good heart. He couldn’t say that about many people these days.
“Send her in,” he said.
He rose to his feet and crossed the room. By the time Evie opened his office door, he was there to welcome Molly. He had his arm extended and his smile ready. But the woman who stepped into the office wasn’t the teenager he remembered.
She was still on the short side, maybe five foot four. Her curly hair had grown longer and she’d tamed it in a braid. Light makeup accentuated