done.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine that a Camden used to living in the lap of luxury would be much help anyway.” But then Tyson narrowed his hazel eyes at her. “You don’t like this guy, do you?”
“I haven’t found anything to dis like,” Gia said with a negligent shrug. “At least not about him personally, if you take away what his family did to Larry and Marion. But no, I don’t like him, either. I don’t even know him.”
She really only knew the way he looked. Her ex-husband had been good-looking, too—not as good-looking as Derek Camden, but still, no slouch. As time had gone on and she’d looked deeper, though, she’d begun to think “handsome is as handsome does,” and those good looks had meant less and less to her.
“But it’s enough to know what Derek Camden comes from,” Tyson said, as if he needed to open her eyes. “The Camdens could buy and sell the Grants a thousand times over, and their reputation is even worse—sneakier, but worse. Getting involved with a Camden after just getting away from the Grants would be like going from the frying pan into the fire.”
“Oh, I know,” Gia agreed wholeheartedly. “Even the hint of shadiness means I don’t want anything to do with them.”
“Plus, what Sharon didn’t like about him was the whole family connection. There’s a ton of them and they’re all joined at the hip—they work together, they hang out together, there’s a family dinner at the grandmother’s house every Sunday that none of them ever miss—”
“And believe me, no one knows better than I do that in a family that tight there’s no real room for other people. Even spouses are always outsiders.” Gia knew that from her own experience; it was something she and Tyson had talked about numerous times before.
“But none of this matters,” she said to her friend when she realized they were just rehashing. “I’m not ready to even date right now—I told you I just turned down dinner with the church pastor, and who’s more upstanding than him? And even if I was back on the market, people like the Camdens are everything I spent three years fighting tooth and nail to get away from—I would never get into anything like that again.”
“And let’s also not forget that Derek Camden dated my crazy cousin Sharon,” Tyson added in support of Gia. “Plus, she must be the type he goes for because he dated two of her whacko friends after the breakup. I doubt that you’re off-the-wall enough for that guy—unless you want to cut your hair into a spiky Mohawk and dye it blue....”
“This hair in a Mohawk?” Gia said with a laugh, pulling a springy curl from her ponytail.
“And I’m good, but I don’t think I could face another divorce from one of those people,” Tyson added as if to seal the anti–Derek Camden deal.
Tyson was rated one of Denver’s top-five divorce attorneys and had represented Gia when she’d divorced Elliot Grant. But the Grants’ dirty fighting and false accusations against Tyson himself had prompted an inquiry from the Bar Association. It had all taken its toll on him and his practice, and wasn’t something Gia wanted to put him through again.
“Don’t worry, never again, Ty,” Gia assured him. “When I’m ready to get back out there, it will only be with nice, average guys from nice, average families.”
Gia poured what remained of her coffee down the sink and rinsed her cup, then took Tyson’s to do the same so they could get next door to work.
Where Derek Camden probably would not show up because Tyson was right.
And where she would throw herself into the job and try not to feel as if she’d wasted almost an entire week fantasizing about Derek Camden flexing muscles to hoist fertilizer bags and paving stones....
* * *
Tyson was wrong.
Derek Camden arrived at the Bronsons’ small redbrick two-bedroom house along with everyone else enlisted to work on Saturday. He wasn’t even a minute late.
His outfit for the
“Yeah, I can’t imagine that a Camden used to living in the lap of luxury would be much help anyway.” But then Tyson narrowed his hazel eyes at her. “You don’t like this guy, do you?”
“I haven’t found anything to dis like,” Gia said with a negligent shrug. “At least not about him personally, if you take away what his family did to Larry and Marion. But no, I don’t like him, either. I don’t even know him.”
She really only knew the way he looked. Her ex-husband had been good-looking, too—not as good-looking as Derek Camden, but still, no slouch. As time had gone on and she’d looked deeper, though, she’d begun to think “handsome is as handsome does,” and those good looks had meant less and less to her.
“But it’s enough to know what Derek Camden comes from,” Tyson said, as if he needed to open her eyes. “The Camdens could buy and sell the Grants a thousand times over, and their reputation is even worse—sneakier, but worse. Getting involved with a Camden after just getting away from the Grants would be like going from the frying pan into the fire.”
“Oh, I know,” Gia agreed wholeheartedly. “Even the hint of shadiness means I don’t want anything to do with them.”
“Plus, what Sharon didn’t like about him was the whole family connection. There’s a ton of them and they’re all joined at the hip—they work together, they hang out together, there’s a family dinner at the grandmother’s house every Sunday that none of them ever miss—”
“And believe me, no one knows better than I do that in a family that tight there’s no real room for other people. Even spouses are always outsiders.” Gia knew that from her own experience; it was something she and Tyson had talked about numerous times before.
“But none of this matters,” she said to her friend when she realized they were just rehashing. “I’m not ready to even date right now—I told you I just turned down dinner with the church pastor, and who’s more upstanding than him? And even if I was back on the market, people like the Camdens are everything I spent three years fighting tooth and nail to get away from—I would never get into anything like that again.”
“And let’s also not forget that Derek Camden dated my crazy cousin Sharon,” Tyson added in support of Gia. “Plus, she must be the type he goes for because he dated two of her whacko friends after the breakup. I doubt that you’re off-the-wall enough for that guy—unless you want to cut your hair into a spiky Mohawk and dye it blue....”
“This hair in a Mohawk?” Gia said with a laugh, pulling a springy curl from her ponytail.
“And I’m good, but I don’t think I could face another divorce from one of those people,” Tyson added as if to seal the anti–Derek Camden deal.
Tyson was rated one of Denver’s top-five divorce attorneys and had represented Gia when she’d divorced Elliot Grant. But the Grants’ dirty fighting and false accusations against Tyson himself had prompted an inquiry from the Bar Association. It had all taken its toll on him and his practice, and wasn’t something Gia wanted to put him through again.
“Don’t worry, never again, Ty,” Gia assured him. “When I’m ready to get back out there, it will only be with nice, average guys from nice, average families.”
Gia poured what remained of her coffee down the sink and rinsed her cup, then took Tyson’s to do the same so they could get next door to work.
Where Derek Camden probably would not show up because Tyson was right.
And where she would throw herself into the job and try not to feel as if she’d wasted almost an entire week fantasizing about Derek Camden flexing muscles to hoist fertilizer bags and paving stones....
* * *
Tyson was wrong.
Derek Camden arrived at the Bronsons’ small redbrick two-bedroom house along with everyone else enlisted to work on Saturday. He wasn’t even a minute late.
His outfit for the
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