Her Fill-In Fiancé. Stacy Connelly
hometown, certain bigger and better things existed in the world outside its close-knit confines, and in high school, she’d made little secret of how she’d felt.
“You and Amy Leary were the Clearville queens, treating the rest of us like your pawns. You didn’t care who got hurt.”
And that was the worst of it, Sophia thought, memories crowding around her until she felt trapped, suffocated. People had gotten hurt.
“Look, Bob—”
“My name is Jeff,” he ground out.
She closed her eyes briefly. “Of course it is,” she murmured beneath her breath, knowing nothing she said would change this man’s opinion of her. An opinion too many people in town shared.
“But you’re not so high and mighty now, are you? I heard you’re nothing but a maid, scrubbing rich people’s gold-trimmed toilets.”
The implied insult stung. Being a maid had never been her dream job, but it was a job that, until Todd came along, she’d done quietly, anonymously, blending into the background, unnoticed by those around her. Almost as if the uniform had the power to make her invisible, which had been fine with Sophia.
After everything that happened in the months before she left Clearville, she’d wanted little more than to disappear.
Reminding herself she’d faced far harsher criticism than anything Bob/Jeff could dole out, she lifted her chin and said, “Actually, I’m not a maid anymore.” A hollow victory since she was unemployed instead, but he didn’t need to know that.
Looking disappointed that his gold-trimmed toilets comment had gone to waste, Jeff demanded, “So what are you doing?”
“Buying gas,” she said as she reached past him and grabbed the pump, “so I can go home to visit my family.”
Maybe it was the reminder of her family, of her brothers, but the man gave her a last disgruntled look before lumbering around to the back of the small shop. For Sophia, though, the damage was already done. Her hand shook so badly it took three tries to get the pump into the tank, and the knots tightening her stomach made morning sickness seem no worse than a hiccup.
Knowing she needed a break before climbing back behind the wheel for the final leg of her journey, Sophia hesitantly approached the shop. She half expected Jeff to jump out from the side of the building and bar her way, but she slipped inside unnoticed. The young girl behind the register didn’t look up from her phone, her fingers flying across the tiny keyboard, as Sophia ducked down the first aisle and into the restroom with a relieved sigh.
Was this what her whole trip would be like? Hiding out and doing her best to dodge her past?
The trill of her cell phone offered a welcome distraction, and she reached inside for her purse. When she saw her cousin’s number, Sophia winced. Thanks to spotty reception and Theresa’s work schedule, they’d been playing phone tag most of the trip. She flipped open the phone, already knowing she was going to get an earful.
“Where are you?” Theresa demanded in place of a normal greeting.
“I’m less than an hour from home,” Sophia said as she tucked the phone against her shoulder and turned on the faucet to wash her hands.
“What’s happened? What went wrong?”
“Nothing went wrong, but thanks for expecting the worst,” Sophia said.
“I didn’t say you did something wrong. But you should have been home by now. We plotted out your route before you left and figured how long it would take.”
Theresa had plotted; Sophia had tossed the detailed directions into the back seat where they’d remained. “You also told me to take it easy. No need to hurry, remember?”
“I remember. But at no time did I say to drag your feet the whole way or to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.”
Sophia wanted to argue, but her cousin knew her too well.
She glanced at her reflection over the utilitarian sink, seeing her short, dark hair, her brown eyes, the slight upward tilt to her nose. She looked a little pale, a little tired, but nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing hinting at the news she had to share. Still, it was almost like looking into a two-way mirror with Theresa on the other side, seeing all her doubts, her insecurities, her reluctance …
“You have to tell your family the truth.”
“I know, Theresa,” Sophia said, squelching a touch of irritation. Easy for Theresa to say. She wasn’t the one with the big secrets. No, Theresa was the one with the college degree and the good job. But she was also the one who’d welcomed Sophia into her home in St. Louis when she’d been fired by the Dunworthys.
Irritation fading away, Sophia said, “And I would have had to tell them a month ago if you hadn’t let me stay with you. If I haven’t thanked you for that, I should have. I really appreciate you taking me in for the second time.”
Five years ago, when she first left Clearville, she’d gone to live with Theresa in Chicago, where her cousin had been going to college. The move was supposed to be a chance to start over, to wipe the slate clean. For a while, Sophia supposed she’d succeeded, only to mess the whole thing up again, prompting yet another flight to her cousin, who was now living and working in St. Louis.
“You already thanked me, and you know my door is always open. But you can’t keep hiding.”
“I’m not. I’m going to tell my parents everything.” Eventually … Turning away from her reflection, Sophia left the restroom as Theresa pleaded, “Well, at least tell them the truth about Jake Cameron. Every time I talk to my mother, she raves about how handsome and charming he is.” Sarcasm coated her words as she affected her mother’s husky voice. “She can’t stop gloating that she got to be the first one in the family to meet him.”
Her cousin’s tone softened as she added, “I know how hard it’s going to be to tell them all that’s happened. And the news about the baby shouldn’t be done over the phone. But this stuff with Jake …”
This stuff with Jake … Sophia’s heart spasmed at the very mention of his name, and her hand tightened on the phone. She wished she could dismiss Jake Cameron as easily as Theresa had, but Sophia didn’t know how she was supposed to do that. Every thought, every memory, every reminder of the time they spent together made it hard to breathe, and yet she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Maybe it was an unforeseen drawback of the years she’d spent as a maid; maybe it was a reaction to the way Todd Dunworthy had treated her and the news of the baby she carried—like dirty secrets to be swept under the carpet. Sophia wasn’t sure. All she knew was that the first time Jake smiled at her, the first time he looked at her with those gorgeous, almost golden eyes, she’d felt he could see the real Sophia.
Not the Pirellis’ little girl. Not the screwup kid sister.
In Jake’s eyes, she saw a strong, confident woman reflected back at her. She saw—or she thought she saw—an interest and a desire that made her feel noticed for the first time in a long time.
She’d done her best to downplay her feelings for Jake after he left. But what else could she do? Sophia thought. She didn’t have any idea how to explain to Theresa her bone-deep certainty that Jake Cameron was a man she could count on, one she could trust, one who would never hurt her. She had yet to figure it out for herself … especially since it turned out none of those things were true.
Once again, she’d trusted the wrong person, only to be let down in the worst possible way.
As for why she hadn’t told her family about him, well, that one was a lot easier to understand, Sophia thought as she left the store. Her aunt Donna had met Jake when she was visiting from Palm Springs. And Donna had been as charmed as Theresa said. She’d immediately called Clearville, armed with stories about Sophia finally meeting a “nice man.”