She listened—and ate—as Keenan spoke of the people he’d met before he’d gone to prison: decent hardworking men and women trying to build a better life for themselves and their families.
“When you get down so low, it’s almost impossible to get out.”
“Yeah, it’s hard,” Mitzi insisted. “Sacrifices have to be made.”
“Did you work when you were in high school?”
“I worked my butt off. I cleaned houses. I scrubbed floors and toilets.” She wrinkled her nose. “While my mother encouraged me to study, she’d have been satisfied to have me cleaning full-time after graduation. I was the one who wanted more.”
“You were lucky,” he said.
“Hardly.” She gave a little laugh. “My bedroom in the new house is bigger than our entire apartment in L.A.”
“You had someone who kept a roof over your head, food on the table. Someone who encouraged you to study.”
“Yes, but—” Mitzi’s frustration began to churn like an approaching thunderstorm inside her. “I could have gone out and partied. Gotten knocked up at sixteen like my sister.”
“You made the most of the opportunities you were given.” Keenan’s tone seemed to gentle. “That’s commendable. I’m not taking anything away from you, Mitzi. I’m simply saying in many ways you were fortunate and had a leg up on a lot of other people. That’s all.”
Mitzi stared at him for a moment. He made a good point. She hadn’t had to take care of her sister, and her mother had done her best to provide for the family.
“You’re right.” Instead of picking up her pizza, Mitzi stabbed it with her fork. “But I got out of East L.A., left that lifestyle behind because of the choices I made.”
“Hey.” Keenan reached across the table, laid a hand across hers and gave it a squeeze. “You’re a success story. You have every right to be proud of what you’ve achieved.”
Some of her irritation slipped away at the admiration in those hazel eyes.
“Care if I join you while I wait for my pizza? I don’t want to interrupt.”
Jerking back her hand, Mitzi shifted her gaze.
Winston Ferris stood by the table, smiling down at them. From his hand-tailored suit, Hermès tie and black Hublot watch encircling his wrist Winn radiated an aura of wealth and privilege. And why not? He was a successful land developer and son of wealthy rancher Jim Ferris. Though there were some in town who decried his ethics, Mitzi admired his tenacity and focus.
“Please join us.” Mitzi moved over and made room for Winn on her side of the booth.
Keenan took another sip of cola and eyed Winn thoughtfully. Once Winn sat down, her dinner companion extended his hand.
“Keenan McGregor,” he said. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Winn introduced himself before Mitzi could do it, then gazed thoughtfully at Keenan. “You’re Betsy Harcourt’s brother, the one who just got out of prison.”
Mitzi’s gaze shot to Keenan’s face but his expression remained bland.
“That’s right,” Keenan said easily. “And your father owns the Triple K.”
Surprise skittered across Winn’s face. “You know my father?”
“I know the spread,” Keenan clarified. “I used to do some work for the previous owner back in high school. Prime ranch land.”
“Dad is happy with it.” Looking perplexed, Winn shifted his attention to Mitzi. “I thought you were dating Kelvin Reid?”
“You’re out of the loop, Ferris.” Mitzi waved a dismissive hand. “That player is old news.”
Winn turned to Keenan, but before he could get a word out, Mitzi continued.
“Keenan and I met at his welcome-home party,” she said hurriedly. “Now we’re sharing a friendly pizza.”
“What she’s trying to make clear is this isn’t a date.” Keenan gave a little chuckle. “I’m not her type. She’s not mine.”
Mitzi’s eyes widened then narrowed. Not his type. Whom was he kidding? She’d seen the look in his eyes earlier. If he could have tossed her to the floor and had her right there, he would have.
She ignored the annoying thought that if he had done that, she’d probably have let him. Of course, desire wasn’t the same as being someone’s type. Any more than simply sharing a pizza and conversation was a date.
Mitzi watched Keenan stroll out the front door of Perfect Pizza. He’d chatted amiably with Winn but when the man’s pizza was delivered and Winn continued to sit, Keenan made some excuse about needing to get home.
She told herself she didn’t care if Keenan left. Winn was whom she really wanted to get to know better.
“How’s the golf-course development coming?” While Mitzi knew golf was the reason Winn had originally come to