matter-of-factly, but the long-ago loss still had the power to cause a dull ache in her heart.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “That must have been difficult for you.”
She turned away from his steady gaze and looked out the window at the city lights sparkling in the cold, dark night. She didn’t want him to be sympathetic. “Fortunately, I had relatives who took me in.” She looked back at Garek and forced herself to smile. “What about your family?”
“My father died of a heart attack eight years ago. My mother remarried and moved to Florida a few years later. I rarely see her. There’s just my sister and me. And my fifteen-year-old niece.”
Her breath caught. Even less did she want to feel sympathy for him. But it was impossible not to. He recited the facts as unemotionally as she had, but she knew only too well how pain could be hidden under a facade.
“Are you close to your niece and sister?” she asked, resisting a foolish urge to reach across the table and touch his hand.
He shrugged. “I don’t have a lot of time. Work keeps me busy.”
His response should have banished all sympathy for him, but it didn’t. After her parents died, she’d lived with her grandfather, but she’d called her aunt and uncle and cousins almost every day and stayed with them every summer. They’d filled a terrible void in her life. Apparently Garek’s business had performed that function for him.
But that was his choice, she reminded herself. He could have chosen to reach out to his sister and niece. “You should make time,” she said quietly.
He sipped his coffee. “Thinking of starting an advice column?”
She ignored his gentle mockery. “I think it’s a mistake to put work before family.”
“But what if your family depends on you to work to make money?”
She frowned. “Your sister and niece depend on you financially?”
“Not exactly. I’m speaking more hypothetically.”
“Every situation is different. Everyone must make their own choice.” She twirled a bite of torte in raspberry sauce. “I just think sometimes people end up regretting their choices.”
“Hmm,” he murmured noncommittally. “Tell me more about your family.”
She doubted he was really interested, and she didn’t want to get drawn into talking about her grandfather and the messy details of their estrangement, but she went ahead and told him about her uncle Rodrigo and aunt Alma and their six children. The three older were all married with children of their own.
“Then comes Martina, then Roberto, then Alyssa,” she continued. “Alyssa is about the same age as your niece—she’ll be fourteen in March.”
“How long have you shared an apartment with Martina?”
“About a year. Ever since I moved to Chicago. I was broke and there aren’t a lot of high-paying jobs for art history majors—”
“You have a college degree?”
“Yes, a master’s. Why do you look so surprised?”
“No reason. Is your cousin Roberto still in high school?”
“No, he graduated last year.” Just in time to get himself thrown in jail. But she wasn’t going to tell Garek that. “He’s very sweet. Sometimes he takes his machismo a little too seriously, but he has the kindest heart of anyone I know. He’ll play cards with Grandma Pilar for hours, even though she cheats and can’t always remember his name. He can be a little impulsive sometimes, but he always means well. He’s very protective of me.”
“Do you need protecting?”
“No, of course not. Although Robbie thinks so. Probably because of…” She paused, vexed with herself for talking too much.
“Because of Rafe?”
She straightened. “How do you know about him?”
“Martina said I was a ‘vast improvement over Rafe.’ Your ex-boyfriend, I take it?”
“Mmm.” She was definitely going to have to have a talk with Martina. “I brought him to Chicago to meet everyone. Martina and Robbie didn’t like him. And it turned out they were right.”
“Rafe broke your heart?”
“No, he just toughened it up a bit.” She felt his gaze on her face. Afraid he would ask her more questions, she added lightly, “Everyone has to have at least one failed love affair. Even you, I’ll bet.”
He had to think for a while. Either he’d had so many, he couldn’t remember, or he’d never been in love. She wondered which it was.
“There was Monica Alexander,” he finally said. “I was madly in love with her.”
“What happened?”
“She dumped me when my father died and his business declared bankruptcy. I had to leave college to sort out the mess.”
She grew still, watching him from wide eyes. “How terrible.”