Stubborn beyond belief, her mother said, “That isn’t at all the impression I get.”
“Trust me,” Haleigh said. “Your impression is what he wants you to see. Not the real person.”
Unable to openly admit she might be wrong, the older woman said, “I suppose it doesn’t matter since he flew back to Los Angeles today.”
“Good,” Haleigh said, relieved that at least one problem had been solved. Turning toward the row of vehicles for sale, she saw that Cooper no longer lingered beside his truck. “Now I really do have something to take care of.” Her mother called her name as she walked away, but Haleigh picked up the pace, pretending not to hear her.
The calls had stopped before midnight, and the texts sometime around four in the morning. Cooper knew the moment the last message arrived because he’d been wide awake, pondering his own stupidity. The itch to continue the farce proved him weak and foolish. Haleigh had admitted up front that she wasn’t a good person, but he’d been too lovestruck to listen. Too blinded by a boyhood crush to recognize the truth in her words.
At least he had the comfort of knowing he’d been right about one thing—a doctor and a grease monkey did not mix.
Through the ache in his chest and the heavy weight of exhaustion, Cooper struggled to enjoy his success. All registered cars had been in place before the gates opened, the food trucks were up and running with nonstop lines, and the crowd had grown thick enough to make navigating the parking lot difficult. Though no one seemed to mind the crush.
His personal life may have crashed and burned, but the fundraiser was well on the way to surpassing expectations. Rubbing the victory in Winkle’s face would be a lackluster consolation, but Cooper would take what he could get after the shit storm of the last twenty-four hours.
“There you are,” said a familiar voice behind him. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Steeling himself, Cooper turned around. “I’m busy.” Haleigh reached for his hand, so he stuck them in his pockets. “What do you want?”
“What do you mean, what do I want?” she asked. “I want to explain about last night.”
“There’s no need,” he said. “I got the message loud and clear.”
“Please don’t shut me out, Cooper. I know I screwed up, but if you’ll just hear me out—”
“I’m not interested, Haleigh Rae.”
“But—”
For clarity’s sake, he asked, “Does or doesn’t your mother know that we were together?”
Shaking her head, Haleigh pleaded, “Don’t say it in the past tense like that. We are together.”
“Does or doesn’t she?” he asked again.
“Not yet. I need a little more time to bring her around.”
“Around to what?” Cooper focused on the anger to drown out the hurt. Neither of which hindered his need to touch her.
So pathetic.
Haleigh ran a hand through her hair. “Working together on this shelter project has built some sort of bridge between us, but it’s still fragile. She believes in something I’m doing and we have a shared goal. I don’t want to mess that up.”
The implication cut like a knife. Still, he forced her to elaborate. Might as well take the full blow.
“And how would us being involved mess things up?”
“She’s just . . .” As Haleigh struggled to find the words, Cooper braced himself. “You know my mother. She has these ridiculous standards and ideas about who I should be with.”
“And an uneducated mechanic with grease under his nails doesn’t meet those standards,” Cooper clarified for her. His father’s taunts echoed through his brain.
You’ll never amount to anything. You’re worthless. You’ll never be good enough.
“I’ll make her come around,” Haleigh promised again, as if her willingness to make her mother accept her less-than boyfriend would solve everything.
“Don’t bother,” he said, letting his anger boil over. “All your life you’ve fought for that woman to approve of you. To accept you for who you are. And it’s never happened. But you know who has always accepted you? Who was ready to love you unconditionally no matter what? Me, Haleigh Rae,” he said, pounding his chest. “The man standing right here, with grease-stained hands who drives a dirty tow truck. I believed that you were more than your past. I believed that what I was didn’t matter to you. I was wrong. Don’t give me that bullshit about your mother not approving. You’re the one who doesn’t approve. You’re the coward who can’t see that what’s inside matters more than what a person does or how much money he has. Because if you did, you wouldn’t have made a fool of me last night, and you sure as hell wouldn’t be asking me to be patient while you work up the nerve to tell Mommy that you’ve sunk below her standards.”