Wild in the Moment by Jennifer Greene Page A

to my family. Obviously, they know about the divorce, but not much more—and especially not what financial shape I’m in. It’s just…complicated. They didn’t know I was unhappy.”
    Somehow she found herself sitting across from him, Teague on the couch, hunched over, playing with that wineglass, and her settled at the bottom edge of the bed. There was no other place to sit, not where she could comfortably face him. “Why?” he asked bluntly.
    â€œWhy what?”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell your family how unhappy you were—or that you’re this strapped for money?”
    â€œBecause.” She lifted a hand in a sweeping motion, one of those gestures that was supposed to communicate there were a zillion reasons. “At the time I first realized the marriage wasn’t going to make it, my mom and dadwere just retiring. I was in another country. They would have worried to death. And I didn’t tell my two sisters…”
    â€œYeah, they’re another question. I thought you said you were really close to your sisters.”
    â€œWe were. We are. But I’m the oldest, you know? I’m the one they always looked to for advice, to take charge.” She added, “In fact, I’m the one who did a little masterminding behind the scenes to help them hook up with the guys they just married. Good men. And they’re both totally happy—”
    Teague didn’t exactly interrupt her, but he acted as if he had no interest in hearing how happy the rest of her family was. “I get it,” he said. “You didn’t want your family to know because of pride.”
    She scowled. “All right. So I have a little issue with pride.”
    â€œLittle?”
    â€œOkay. Big.” Cripes, she’d have denied it if she could. Unfortunately when it came down to it, except for all the designer clothes and accessories, she pretty much didn’t have a pot to pee in. And pride or no pride, she felt the oddest sense of relief to finally tell someone. Someone not her family.
    And Teague could have judged her. Instead he just seemed to keep taking in information like a sponge. “The point isn’t your pride, sweet pea. The point is…where you’re going from here.”
    â€œWell. Like I told you, I’m living free above the café, because Harry was hot to have someone in the place. Food’s free, rent’s free, electricity—it isn’t costing me a dime to be here. On top of which, I’m a little short on wheels temporarily.”
    â€œYou had a car,” he said with a frown.
    â€œA rental car that I picked up at the airport. And that’s the thing. I don’t need a car at all for a few weeks if I live here. I can walk anywhere in town and eat downstairs.”
    â€œIn return for which, Harry hired you on as a cook?”
    â€œNot exactly. Harry said he hasn’t got enough business at this time of year to hire anyone full-time. But we made a deal. Most days, I open and close the place for him—which is easy for me to do, living upstairs this way, and that way he can sleep in and leave early. And I’m putting in a few hours—as many as he’ll give me—baking. French pastries, fancy stuff. He said he’d give it a try, and even if it’s only been a week, it seems to be working to bring in new customers.”
    â€œBut he can’t give you more than part-time hours?”
    â€œNo,” she admitted. “On the other hand, with zero expenses, I’m putting everything away. It shouldn’t be that long before I can put a down payment on a used car. Then I can look at moving somewhere there’s some job potential.”
    â€œBut for right now, you’d like more money?”
    She looked at him. That quiet, intense expression—Teague could be very hard to read. Obviously, she wanted more money. She just wasn’t sure exactly what he was asking. But