The Wrong Man For Her. Kathryn Shay

Of course, Madelyn had held back that particular declaration, too.

      A silence. “Isn’t that a little unfair? You know what caused his commitment issues.” Beth hesitated. “You knew it when you got involved with him.”

      After Daniel Logan Sr. had embezzled a half million dollars out of the bank he worked at and gone to jail for it, Nick had rebelled. Because she couldn’t handle him, his mother had kicked Nick out of her house when he was sixteen. A “tough love” kind of thing that had backfired in ways Claire Logan couldn’t have imagined.

      Still what Nick had done to Maddie was unforgivable. “At some point, you have to stop blaming your past for your present insecurities and faults and take control of your life.”

      Across the table, Beth gave her an indulgent smile. “You’re so strong, Maddie. Not everybody could overcome what you did.”

      Madelyn shivered, remembering her absent father, her alcoholic mother and how she’d practically supported herself since she was eleven. For most of her early life, she’d been intimately acquainted with the word impoverished.

      “Because you overcame such odds, you think everybody else can, too.”

      “Maybe. But, Beth, he’s a psychotherapist, he should be able to figure out a way to deal with his personal issues.”

      Beth laughed. “If that were true, I’d be able to forgive my ex for all the damage he’s done. I’m a minister, but truthfully, when he disappoints Parker, I want to kill the S.O.B.”

      Madelyn loved Bethany like a sister and didn’t want to fight with her, especially over Nick. “Let’s stop talking about Nick. I can’t change the things that happened in the past. I can just try to work with him at the Center.”

      “What are you going to do about the additional counselor?”

      “No money for one. But I’m not going to let a little thing like that violate my new policy.”

      “Can you assign Reid to help?”

      “No. He’s taking a vacation—long overdue. There’s something going on in his family he won’t talk about, but I gather this time away is important.”

      “John can’t do it.”

      “No, it would be too much of a burden now.”

      “I’d help out but I can’t afford any more time out of the house. Parker needs me there.”

      “I wouldn’t let you anyway. You already put in more hours than the local ministerium pays you for.” Beth was a part-time pastor at a local church, and her part-time salary at the Center was footed by a group of inner-city churches. “How is Parker?”

      “Better.” Beth scowled. “I’m so mad at his father. He canceled their plans on Sunday, which sent my son into a serious depression.”

      “I’m mad at him, too.”

      They chuckled, as if being angry at the men in their pasts would help.

      Beth studied Madelyn with what Madelyn called her minister look. “You aren’t thinking about doing the counseling yourself, are you Maddie?”

      She didn’t say anything.

      “That would be a very bad decision.”

      “I know.” Her throat tightened at the mere thought. “And I swear to God, I don’t want to work that closely with Nick.”

      “We’ll find another way.”

      “By three o’clock tomorrow?”

      “Hey, God does some of Her best work on deadline.”

      Madelyn laughed, and so did Beth. Once again, Madelyn was grateful to have this woman in her life.

      She had a lot to be grateful for. Friends like Beth and John. A job she loved. Enough material things.

      Hearing a thud from above where another yoga session had started, she vowed not to let Nick Logan ruin one more class, one more hour, one more minute of her good and happy life.

      “WHAT ARE YOU still doing here?”

      Nick turned to find John in the doorway of the newly painted group session room. “Is it that late?”

      “Eight o’clock.”

      “I wanted to finish up as much as I could tonight.” He scanned the area. “Not too shabby for one day’s work, is it?”

      John wandered inside. “Who paid for these?” He swiped his hand over a beanbag chair, one of a set of four. “And the futon? And the director’s chairs?”

      He missed the table and “kewl” lamps, as Nick’s nieces had called them.

      “Everything was cheap. I got it all at the furniture warehouse outlet.”

      “How much?”

      “Two fifty.”

      “Did Maddie approve the expense?”

      “What? Without bloodletting? No, I paid for it myself so I didn’t have to open a vein.”

      “I thought so.” John slouched down into a beanbag. “Ouch. Wow, I’m getting old.”

      “Try the futon.”

      When John was settled on the couch, he looked up at Nick. “You can’t spend your own money on this place.”

      Though social work didn’t pay big bucks, Nick lived frugally and had saved some money. “I don’t have anybody else to spend it on, except maybe my nieces.”

      “Whose fault is that?”

      Nick stared down at the man who was more of a father to him than his own had been. A friend Nick had almost lost because of what he’d done to Maddie.

      She’s like a daughter to me and Lucy. You’re like a son. What the hell are you doing to your lives?

      Nick’s response had been so weak, so milquetoast, he’d been embarrassed by it. John, when she thought she was pregnant, I began to realize what I’d gotten myself into. I wouldn’t be any good at that kind of life. I’d be like Daniel. Claire was right, I have his genes. Maddie’s better off without me.

      John had practically begged. Please, Nick, don’t do this.

      “Where are you, son?”

      “Thinking about the past.” He glanced up at the ceiling fan Dan had put in. “I…” Damn it, he had learned something in the last three years. “About how grateful I am that you didn’t write me off after what I did to her.”

      “Never gonna happen.” The expression on John’s face was full of warmth and acceptance. “No matter how hard you try to alienate everybody who cares about you.”

      Nick dropped down into a director’s chair opposite him. “John, I’ve agreed to stay on. But I hope Maddie doesn’t get hurt in the process.”

      “She tells me she won’t. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have hired her back.” John smoothed his hand over the light wood arm of the futon. “She’s moved on, Nick. She had a steady guy in her life for almost a year.”

      “Joe?” The macho paramedic who’d dated Maddie before Nick.

      “No, somebody else. Somebody serious.”

      Did the lights dim? “Who?”

      “A nice guy. Professor at the University of Rockford where she did her doctoral work. Lucy and I spent some time with them.”

      “Huh!” His stomach roiled. “Well, I’m glad for her.”

      “You should be. He worshipped the ground she walked on.”

      “You talk in the past tense. What happened?”

      “He