The Mistletoe Promise by Richard Paul Evans Read Free Book Online Page A

town next to it,” I said. “Ephraim. The one with all the turkey farms. Sometimes turkey dander would settle over the school. I was horribly allergic to it.”
    “To turkey dander?” he asked.
    I nodded. “That’s where I met my ex-husband, Dan.” I paused. “Dan. Dan-der. I never made that connection before.”
    Nicholas laughed. “Dander. I like that.”
    “Dan was from Salt Lake. He was doing his general ed at Snow because it was cheaper than the University of Utah. He was ambitious back then. He promised to show me the world. Then he left college to sell water purifiers. Danwasn’t very nice, but that’s what I was used to. The truth was, he was my way out. A counselor once told me that Dan was my ‘vehicle of emancipation.’ I think she was right. I followed Dan to Salt Lake, and we got married. We were married for eight years before he divorced me.”
    “Why did he divorce you?”
    I looked at Nicholas and said, “Wasn’t there a clause in our contract about deep and probing questions?”
    “You’re right. I crossed the line.”
    “Well, technically, we crossed the line about ten minutes ago,” I said. “It’s okay. Dan divorced me because he was cheating on me with my best friend.”
    “Your college roommate?”
    “Yes. He’s now married to her.”
    “Remarkable,” Nicholas said. “What was your divorce settlement like?”
    “Not good. It’s not like Dan had much money, but I didn’t get anything.”
    “Sounds like you had a poor attorney.”
    “No, he had a poor client.”
    “Why?”
    I looked down. “Some people are born thinking they’re pretty important. Some aren’t.”
    Nicholas nodded slowly as if he understood.
    I took a deep breath. “So now that I’ve spilled all my secrets, let’s talk about you.”
    “That’s a nonstarter,” he said.
    “Really? After I just shared my entire life history, you’re holding out on me?”
    “I’m only saving you from boredom.”
    “I think there are some answers that might interest me.”
    “Such as?”
    “To begin with, why aren’t you married?”
    He looked at me for a moment, then said, “Isn’t that why I asked for this contract? So I didn’t have to answer that question?”
    “I still want to know.”
    He looked at me thoughtfully and after a moment said, “A lot of people aren’t married. A lot of people are married who shouldn’t be.”
    “You’re evading the question.”
    “It’s complicated,” he said.
    “Is that all I get?”
    “For now,” he said.
    “Then tell me about your childhood.”
    He frowned. “It’s nowhere near as exciting as yours. I was born and raised in the Sugar House area. My parents were quiet, conservative Mormons. I went to church until I was sixteen, until . . .” He stopped and a shadow fell over his face. “Until things changed.”
    “What happened?”
    “Just things,” he said. “My dark ages. It took me a few years, but I pulled myself out. From then on it was all school and work. I finished college and took the LSAT. I got accepted to Stanford Law School on a scholarship, graduated at the top of my class, then came back to Utah to practice law.”
    “You started working at the firm you’re at now?”
    He hesitated before answering. “No, I worked at the prosecutor’s office. I kept beating them in court, so they made me an offer.”
    “That must be nice,” I said.
    “What must be nice?”
    “To be wanted like that.”
    He suddenly went quiet. Then he said, “I’m sorry. That whole conversation got pretty heavy. I just wanted to get to know you better.”
    “Well, you know it all now.”
    “Do I?”
    I didn’t answer. After a moment of silence he picked up the check. “Let’s get you home.”
    It was cold in the restaurant’s parking lot, and our breath froze in front of us. The cars were all covered with a thin veneer of freshly fallen snow. He started his car, turned on the heater and window defroster, then got out and scraped the windows. When he