Secrets in the Sand by Carolyn Brown

            “I don’t know. I thought it was all behind me. I thought I could go back to that alumni banquet, strut my stuff, show off the band, and leave feeling fine, but it didn’t work that way. The minute I saw him, my insides turned to jelly and that old ache was right back in my heart,” Angel told them. “I just wanted you all to know the situation up front. One part of me still wants to kiss him, and the other part wants to watch him die a slow and gruesome death.”

            “If you want to watch him die, I won’t let him past my part of the building if he shows his face here.” Susan gave her a thumbs-up. “Don’t worry. First office is my territory. If he gets past me and my big old double-barreled shotgun, then Mindy can head him off at the pass.”

            “Sure.” Mindy nodded. “I’m in a bad situation. You know, this divorce stuff is for the birds. I’ve decided sex is a misdemeanor. The more I miss, de meaner I get. Clancy Morgan better not try to sweet-talk his way past my office, or he’ll find out he’s dealin’ with PMS and abstinence at the same time. Don’t worry, we’ll toss him out of the second-floor window on his handsome face, and then your insides won’t turn to jelly when you look at him.”

            Angel laughed and shook her head. The whole Clancy Morgan thing had seemed like such a big mountain this morning, but the girls were whittling it down to the molehill that it really was. “You’re good for me,” she said. “Guess we better dry our tears and run this oil business now. The big boys would just love to see me blubbering over a lost love, wouldn’t they? They said I’d never make it in a man’s world, but I’ve got you all. Six of us can outdo the work of a hundred men.”

            “Hell, one of us can outdo that many,” Patty swore. “We’ll manage, Angel. We’ve lived through marriages and rumors of marriages, war and peace, and I betcha this don’t keep the sun from coming up either.” Angel went back to her office and turned on her computer. It was time to get out of the rut she’d allowed herself to wallow in for the past two days and to get back to work. That’s what she needed—good, complicated, exhausting work to erase Clancy Morgan’s face from her mind.

            By noon, she’d argued with the board of directors, had a meeting with Mindy concerning the wording on a multimillion-dollar contract, and met with Susan about advertising in The Oklahoman. The phone rang, and Patty answered, “Conrad Oil Enterprises. May I help you?”

            “Whoops.” She put her hand over the receiver and pressed the intercom button into Angel’s office. “Guess Susan is out to lunch. Seems like the monster has gotten past her double-barreled shotgun.”

            “What?” Angel whispered back.

            “It’s Clancy on the phone,” Patty said. “Want me to tell him to drop dead or that I’m putting a contract out on his hide? How about I tell him you’ve left for a month on your honeymoon?”

            “I’ll talk to him,” Angel said. “I hope he’s been as miserable as I have.”

            “Yeah, for a whole weekend,” Patty said sarcastically. “That isn’t ten years, you know.”

            Angel frowned at Patty and shut the door between their offices.

            “Hello, Clancy. You do realize that this is called stalking. Am I going to have to put a restraining order on you?”

            “Angela?” His voice sounded weary.

            “Yes, this is Angel,” she said.

            “I owe you one hell of an apology. I’m so sorry. I’m miserable from it all, and I don’t even know what to say. I’ve been a jackass and there’s no excuse for what I did back then. I was just a scared kid and a jerk, and I deserve anything that you want to heap on me…”

            “Am I supposed to forgive you?” she asked.

            “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Angela,” he said in a broken voice. “I don’t deserve anything from you. I was prepared to meet a little kid that might look like me, or for you to tell me you’d given it away to a couple who couldn’t have children. I would like to talk to you in person, and then I promise I’ll get out of your life and never bother you again.”

            “Is that a real promise or one of those like you used to make?” she asked.

            “It’s real, and it’s coming from a broken heart,” he said. “Can I meet you or pick you up for dinner?”