Apparently, moving back home was just like joining Facebook, when middle-aged ex-boyfriends came crawling out of the woodwork like cockroaches, suggesting drinks, putting out their nasty little feelers for potential affairs. Was Connor married? She glanced over at his hands, trying to see a ring.
“I didn’t mean a date, if that’s what you’re thinking,” said Connor.
“I wasn’t thinking that.”
“I know you’re married, don’t worry. I don’t know if you remember my sister’s son, Benjamin? Anyway, he’s just finished uni and he wants to go into advertising or marketing. That’s your field, isn’t it? I was actually thinking of exploiting you for your professional expertise.” He chewed on the side of his cheek. “Maybe ‘exploiting’ is the wrong choice of word.”
“Benjamin has just finished uni?” Tess was startled. “But he couldn’t have—he was only in preschool!”
Memories flooded back. A minute ago she wouldn’t have been able to name Connor’s nephew, or even remember that he had one. Now she could suddenly see the exact pale green color of the walls of Benjamin’s bedroom.
“He was a preschooler sixteen years ago,” said Connor. “Now he’s six foot three, and very hairy, with a tattoo of a bar code on his neck. I’m not kidding. A bar code.”
“We took him to the zoo,” marveled Tess.
“We may well have.”
“Your sister was sound asleep.” Tess remembered a dark-haired woman curled up on a sofa. “She was sick.” Hadn’t she been a single mother? Not that Tess had appreciated that at the time. She should have offered to go out and buy groceries. “How is your sister?”
“Oh, well, we actually lost her a few years ago.” He sounded apologetic. “A heart attack. She was only fifty. Very fit and healthy, so it was . . . a terrible shock. I’m Benjamin’s guardian.”
“God, I’m so sorry, Connor.” Tess’s voice fractured with the unexpectedness of it. The world was a desperately sad place. Hadn’t he been especially close to his sister? What was her name? Lisa. It was Lisa.
“A coffee would be great,” she said suddenly, impulsively. “You can pick my brain. For what it’s worth.” She wasn’t the only one suffering. People lost their loved ones. Husbands fell in love with other people. Besides, a coffee with someone entirely unrelated to her current life would be the perfect distraction. Connor Whitby was not creepy.
“That’d be great.” Connor smiled. She didn’t remember him having such an attractive smile. He lifted his helmet. “I’ll call, or e-mail.”
“Okay, do you need my—” The petrol pump clicked to indicate her tank was full, and Tess lifted it out and placed it back on the bowser.
“You’re a St. Angela’s mum now,” said Connor. “I can track you down.”
“Oh. Good.” A St. Angela’s mum. She felt strangely exposed. She turned to face him with her car keys and wallet in her hand.
“Like your PJs, by the way.” Connor looked her up and down and grinned.
“Thanks,” said Tess. “I like your bike. I don’t remember you riding one.” Didn’t he drive a boring little sedan of some sort?
“It’s my midlife crisis.”
“I think my husband is having one of those,” said Tess.
“Hope it’s not costing you too much,” said Connor.