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the tape of Nick’s story in there and tucking the patch he’d given her inside the pocket of her shorts.
    “It bothers me that you can’t get past it.”
    “Growing up was complicated,” she told him as she put the box on the upper shelf of the closet—out of sight, out of Carl’s mind, hopefully. It was never far from hers. “You know that. We were much more than husband and wife.”
    “I know that you missed another dinner with my father and our business associates,” Carl reminded her, and yes, shit, she’d forgotten. Or else it was another case of selective memory, something that always seemed to happen whenever she had to attend events of any kind with Carl.
    “I’m sorry. I had to work.”
    “That damned job again.”
    “That damned job is one of the reasons you were initially attracted to me. Or did you forget that?”
    Carl was wealthy, a lawyer and the son of an even more prominent lawyer—possibly a soon-to-be congressman, if the polls were correct. Carl himself was on the fast track to that same political world—but now he feared her being a reporter might cause too much friction, be a conflict of interest.
    So I won’t report on politics then , she’d told him time and time again.
    He’d already tried to warn her, gently, that when they got married, she’d have to retire from reporting, and she’d told him that she had no plans to marry anyone or give up her career.
    So far, he hadn’t believed her.
    So far, she’d never once agreed to actually consider his marriage proposal. “You know my past is going to come out, Carl. Especially when you decide to run for office.”
    “I told you we can bury that.”
    “I have no intention of doing that.” She fought the urge to tell him about wiring Nick’s car that evening and realized that she wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. She’d been in the mood to be alone, to go over the tape of her conversation with Nick.
    She hadn’t expected Carl to be waiting for her at her apartment.
    “Sometimes it sounds like you’re almost proud of what you used to do,” he continued, the frustrated look crossing his face the way it always did when this subject was broached.
    She stared at Carl’s face and wondered again how she could get herself involved with someone who’d been attracted to her wild side and later wanted to tamp it down. “I’m not ashamed of where I came from. I don’t know why that’s such a problem. It used to be a turn-on for you that I had a record.”
    “A sealed record, Kaylee. You were a juvenile delinquent, not a hardened criminal.” Carl shook his head. “Records like that are sealed for a reason. To let you get on with your life—so your past doesn’t haunt you.”
    “Yes, well, too late for that.” With her back to Carl, she fingered the worn patch Nick had given her, the one Aaron had ripped off his clothing, judging by the frayed ends.
    The notification that her ex still had her listed as the sole beneficiary in his will had been nearly as shocking as the phone call. Add to that the enormous amount of money Aaron appeared to have left behind, if the bankbook he’d put into the safe deposit box was any indication.
    How a man who came from a foster-care background and went straight into the Army could have that much money, doubtfully earned by legal means, made her head spin.
    She wouldn’t touch it, wished she could forget about it, and Aaron himself, the way he’d forgotten about her and fucked anything that moved even when they’d still been together.
    Bastard .
    She hadn’t told Nick that part, because some things were too personal. She was still wounded deeply from those betrayals, even though she’d had her own fantasies and flirtations with other men the years they were married. The years he was away giving the military his love.
    The fact that he’d cheated on her bothered her much less than the fact that her best friend had broken her trust. Badly.
    “I won’t hide my past, Carl. I won’t hide