Chapter 1

Shortly before 7 a.m. Saturday

Camille Drayton watched her son across at the breakfast table. It was one of the rare mornings she got to spend with him. A smile came to her face automatically.

Andy was the type of son every mother dreamed of having. Camille could not think of a time she had been angry with Andy in the last 10 years. She couldn't think of anyone who met him that didn't like him.

Random thoughts entered her head: Her 31st birthday – spent working from 6 a.m. to midnight.

She had opened up the box where she kept her lunch expecting to find the damned peanut butter sandwich she'd made the night before. Instead she had found a cupcake with a candle on top – with construction paper cut out and attached to the wick to make it look as though it was waiting for her to make her wish. She also had found the most extravagant meal her 12-year-old son knew how to make – lasagna – in a plastic container, two pieces of garlic toast carefully wrapped so they wouldn't go stale and a note telling her he loved her, he hoped it was the best day of her life and that all her tomorrows were better.

Andy had to have gotten up at three in the morning to put this together for her. The thought brought a tear to her eye as she sat at the breakfast table – which was better than her birthday, where she had been reduced to full-fledged sobs as her coworkers wondered what was happening.

No, her 31st birthday wasn't the best day of her life. That day would have been the morning Andy was born. And since his arrival, her life had been hectic and not always easy. But every day had gotten better – because of a kind word from him or a sly grin when she would catch him doing something. But Andy wasn't doing something for fun or for the hell of it. No, if Andy got caught out it was because he was doing something that might make her life easier.

Even today, he'd gotten up at 5 a.m. to have breakfast waiting for her when she got home. She knew he would work from 8 a.m. to noon – doing physical, manual labor that didn't pay him a tenth of what he was worth. But he'd willingly given up sleep so he could spend time with her.

In the past four or five years, Andy had come to take care of Camille as much as she took care of him. He cooked almost every meal and had become quite the chef; albeit a budget chef. Their money was limited despite the fact Camille worked two jobs and nearly 100 hours a week.

He made sure the clothes were washed and the house was clean. He made out the bills and left them for her to sign. He had scrimped and saved his own money to make sure she could use some of what she made on herself.

Then there was his decision about college. Since Andy had learned to read at three years old, Camille had put aside as much money as she could in order to allow him to continue his education. She had never touched Andy's college fund, regardless of how many times dipping into it would have made her life (or Andy's) easier. In 15 years, she had put away enough that he could go anywhere he wanted to go and he had been accepted at some of the most prestigious colleges in America.

But he would be going to a state-funded school on a scholarship, a grant and work study. He had passed on the better schools so she could use the money for her own education, for a trip to Hawaii or even just to cut back on work.

There had been a discussion about that decision. There was no yelling or recriminations. Andy and Camille respected each other too much for that. Andy had made a simple statement about his intentions and Camille had done her best to get him to change his mind.

She knew he wouldn't.

Andy would be 18 in a month, off on his own a few weeks after that. What would life bring to her only child? She hoped happiness. He deserved happiness for all the joy he'd brought to her.

But he wasn't happy this morning. He fidgeted all through breakfast, his mind a million miles away. She knew he wasn't thinking about his crappy job in a hot, smelly warehouse.

Still, he was nervous about something – and Camille didn't like it when anything bothered her son.

"Do you want to tell me what has you so upset?" she asked gently. "You're not worried about that girl, are you?"

That girl, as Camille had termed her, wasn't just any girl to Andy. And it was the prospect of spending the day with Regan Riley that had him agitated.

She had never heard the name of Regan Riley until the day before, when the girl called out of the blue and spent 45 minutes talking to Andy. They had spent perhaps three hours on the phone later in the evening – and that was just during the time when Camille was awake.

"I'm going to see her this afternoon," Andy said. "I'm driving up after my shift to visit."

"Driving up?" Camille wondered. Andy had been sparse with the details about Regan. Camille trusted him so she didn't press. She knew he would talk to her when he was ready and not a minute before.

"She goes to Clairborne Benedict Prep," Andy explained.

Camille blinked.

"And just how did you meet a girl from Hoity-Toity Prep?" she asked before she could stop herself. "Or do I want to know?"

"Probably not," Andy said. He got the faraway look on his face that had accompanied her telling him yesterday that "that girl" was on the phone. She had fought the urge to try to intervene during his dalliance with Erin. But she remembered all too well how young adults fought their parents' advice about relationships.

So she left it alone and it had played out just as she suspected it would. At least Andy wasn't heartbroken. Her initial assessment of his demeanor immediately following the breakup had been wrong. She had thought he was depressed about losing Erin.

Now, although Andy hadn't confirmed it, she realized it wasn't the case.

"The day Erin and I broke up," Andy began – because his mother gave no indications she was moving away from her questions, "I got stuck in the office helping out with bills of lading. I was running late for our date and Erin dumped me over the phone. Then I about crashed into a pickup truck."

"I've told you about talking on the phone while driving!" Camille said. It was her personal crusade, Andy had realized.

"And I wasn't," he insisted with a smile that caught Camille off guard. "Besides, you know it was early March and all. It was almost dark and the truck was stopped in the middle of the expressway."

"Why?" Camille asked.

Andy rolled his eyes in exasperation. He had to leave for work in a few minutes and he wasn't sure he could finish the story in the amount of time he had left. He decided that might not be a bad thing.

"I'm getting to that," he said. "In fact, I would already be to that point if you'd let me talk without asking questions."

Camille threw a piece of toast at her son but laughed.

"Duly noted," she replied. "You were saying..."

"The truck was stopped in the middle of the expressway because the three occupants were harassing Regan, who was walking along the road," Andy clarified.

"I'm going to do it again," Camille warned. "Why was a teenage girl walking – alone – along that road?"

Andy frowned.

"That is something you'll need to discuss with Regan," he said. "Anyway, I slammed on the brakes and was getting out to knock some heads together when Regan yelled that she needed help. So, I helped."

"By knocking heads together," Camille said.

"Sort of," Andy admitted sheepishly. "It was Wyatt Erving. Do you remember him?"

"God, yes," Camille said. "He's like a walking case of anal warts. It isn't something you forget."

"Mom!" Andy said loudly, scrunching up his face.

"Well, you don't," Camille said with a chuckle. "So, whose head did you knock Wyatt's against?"

"Just my hand," Andy said. "Sorry, I probably should have told you when it happened. But it sort of got lost in everything that happened that night."

Camille tilted her inquisitively.

"I drove Regan the rest of the way into town to find her friends," Andy said. "We went to the party I was supposed to go to with Erin. Regan about kicked Erin's butt. We spent the evening talking and laughing and joking. Then we found her friends. She did kick one of her friends' butts. And I drove her home the next morning where I got into a screaming match with one of the most influential women in America."

Camille was amazed her son could make these statements so matter-of-factly. But he did.

"Then she waits two months to call you again," Camille said. "It hardly sounds like she has her priorities straight."

"Maybe not," Andy confessed. "But I think they are straighter now than they were. And she had to wait eight weeks. She was banned from all forms of electronic communication for that long."

"Why?" Camille asked.

"Why do you think?" Andy rejoined. "She snuck out of school while she was already under restriction. They – and her parents – increased the penalty to a form of house arrest, I think."

"And this is a girl you are planning to visit today?" she asked. This girl sounded like trouble.

"Visit today, go to her prom next week and take her to mine the following," Andy said. "Please, do me a favor. Do not form an opinion based on that night. Wait until you meet her, Mom. I promise, you'll like her a lot."

"I'll do my best," Camille promised. She would, too. She wasn't willing to make any promises but she would try, particularly if Andy liked the girl. Camille had managed to remain at least cordial to Erin, whom she could barely stand. "I thought you said prom was for losers."

"I guess I'm a loser then," Andy offered with a grin. "I think it's going to be fun – if I can just get through today."

Camille filed her other questions away for later interrogation. She was usually sly about how she got information from her son but it was always nothing short of a full interrogation.

Regan sat at the table with her friends and pushed the eggs around her plate. She was worried she – or one of the other idiots from C-B Prep – would say or do something to offend Andy and she would never see him again.

She knew she liked him a few minutes after they met. He was so genuine – a rarity in her world – and sweet. He had stood up to her mother and to three jerks and he hadn't been pissed when she stood up to Erin for him. The only time he showed any irritation was when she let Harmony Wentworth say derogatory things about him. Even then he didn't say hurtful things. He simply removed himself from the situation.

That wouldn't happen again. All of her friends – and most of the school – knew about Regan breaking Harmony's nose. Harmony had claimed she wasn't ready when Regan hit her. But Harmony also ran away every time Regan offered a rematch. She had elected to go home this weekend, rather than risk drawing Regan's ire further.

Pretty much the whole senior-level girls' side knew Regan's guy was coming up to visit and there would be hell to pay if they put one foot out of line. That didn't mean the staff or one of the other girls' parents wouldn't do or say something asinine, Regan knew. But that was only part of what had her worried.

The eight weeks from the time Andy left Regan's house until she could call him dragged on for her. She had written him 20 letters. But since she thought she had the wrong address, she'd never sent them. She had re-read them the night before and she was glad they were still in a box beneath her bed. She decided they sounded childish and immature.

No, Regan decided, she was just going to be herself – well, maybe a slightly less spoiled version of herself, a little voice in her head offered. She and Andy would have lunch together and take a walk. They could talk about her approaching formal and his, too. And she hoped they could kiss again, too. The C-B campus had many areas that were out-of-bounds to all but senior girls. In the past, those areas were set aside for chaperoned courting. Now they were set aside for other activities – although Regan was certain the staff and parents didn't know it.

Regan almost leapt for joy when her father told her that he would sign the permission slip for her to attend a dance with Andy – so long as Andy brought her by the "shrine to your mother's inflated ego" so he could take some pictures.

Rita Riley was in Washington, D.C., to lobby for or against something so she didn't get a vote, which was just as well, Regan decided. Robert Riley had taken a more active role in his daughter's life during the past few weeks. He had visited her at school and called her regularly. More importantly, he had actually listened to what Regan was saying instead of brushing it aside. He had begun to see that he and his wife had done their daughter a great disservice by sequestering her away from real life for so long.

He knew Regan was ill-prepared to live on her own and to make decisions for herself. He also knew the only way to prepare for life was to live a little bit. Mostly, Regan thought, he just wanted her to know that he loved her and he would always love her.

Her mother had made token efforts. If she were in town – and doing nothing else – Rita would speak with Regan for a minute or two when she called home. She had come out to visit three times in the past eight weeks – which was three times more than Regan had seen her in the past year.

Regan knew Andy Drayton had been a source of stress at her parents' home. Mostly because after seeing it could be done successfully, Robert and Regan began shouting back at Rita when she went on a tirade. As with most things, they got better at it the more they practiced it.

After watching her husband and daughter sit obsequiously silent for 17 years, Rita Riley wasn't prepared to deal with two more people who had suddenly grown a backbone. Regan decided that was the reason her mother had spent most of the past month in D.C.

Regan had considered asking her father to come out today, too. She wanted him to meet Andy under better circumstances and to see what sort of guy Regan was convinced he was. She also wanted Andy to meet her father for the same reason. But she decided today would be about her and Andy getting to know each other again.

Regan knew today could be perfect or it could be a complete disaster. That's what had her worried.

10 a.m. Saturday

For maybe the first time since starting at Affiliated Wholesalers Group, Andy felt like part of the team. He was younger by many years than everyone else who worked there. For the other men and women in the warehouse this was a dead-end job but the only job they could do.

The others were slightly jealous of Andy. First off, he was young and had a future ahead of him. No one else could make a claim to either of those virtues. But there was more to it than that. Andy had shown enough to the foreman during his first weeks of employment that he got picked for plum assignments. If someone was needed to help out in the office, the foreman sent Andy. If someone was needed to deliver something nearby, Andy went. If the owners brought a group by for a tour, Andy was the one who explained what was being done and why it was done that way.

The men and women who worked at AWG dismissed the fact that Andy was part-time and was the lowest-paid person in the building. They didn't consider he received no health insurance, no vacation and no sick days. They didn't recognize that Andy was selected for these tasks because the foreman and the manager knew they could trust him.

The office manager didn't have to look over every section of a bill of lading when Andy worked inside. She would see him double-checking his figures against the list. She knew from the questions he had asked that he understood what he was doing. In fact, she wished she could have him work for her full-time. But she knew it wasn't in the cards.

The foreman didn't have to worry about Andy disappearing for five hours on a delivery and then claiming he got lost or stuck in traffic. He didn't have to worry about him driving the company van at 80 miles per hour or getting a reckless driving ticket. He didn't have to worry about the customer calling and complaining that Andy showed up two hours late or not at all. He was a good kid and more mature than some of the men and women in their 40s who worked in the warehouse.

The owners picked Andy purely by accident the first time he led a tour. He was close to the age of some of the schoolchildren they had brought and he was just preparing to leave. But he stayed and he did an excellent job. In fact, to at least one of the owners, Andy's explanation was the first time he had understood why some things were done as they were. After that, they sought out Andy and let the foreman know when they would arrive so he could have Andy nearby. They didn't have to worry about him cursing in front of a group of 12-year-olds. They didn't worry about him making up an answer to a potential customer's question. If he didn't know, he said he didn't know. Then he offered to find someone who did know.

The foreman was disappointed to learn earlier in the week that Andy would be leaving in a month. The office manager had offered Andy a weekend spot but wasn't surprised when he thanked her but declined. The managing partner made a special trip to the warehouse that Saturday to let Andy know he had a job with AWG whenever he wanted one – school breaks, holidays, summers or just whenever.

Even the employees had thawed.

Andy didn't think it was because they knew he was quitting. Almost none of his coworkers were bad people. They were all normal, hard-working men and women who sometimes took advantage of the company's largesse. The fact he was thankful for a part-time job that paid as much as this one did meant he didn't dare do something to lose it. After a few months, most of the people recognized that he wasn't an ass-kisser and began to include him in jokes and conversations.

But today they were absolutely friendly. It didn't take long for the forklift driver to spot that Andy's thoughts were miles away (about 10 miles north if the truth were known). She could see something was bothering him and, being a mother of two boys herself, took it upon herself to find out what it was and to fix it if she could.

Chapter 2 »