She’d seen that affection and admiration for her friends, but hearing it touched her.

“I’m lucky to have her and Avery in my life. If I didn’t, I’d probably be in Chicago now instead of here. That’s where I thought my compass would point after Jonathan. Here’s better.”

“Can’t figure what you saw in him.”

Hope sipped her wine, studied Ryder. “Do you want to know?”

“We’re sitting here.”

“All right. I don’t want to compare myself to Clint—his service, his sacrifice, but like him, I had a life plan. It runs in my family. My sister wanted to be a vet since she was eight, and my brother always wanted the law. I loved hotels, the drama, the puzzles, the people, the constancy and the flux. All of it. So my life plan was to manage a hotel. The right hotel, in the right spot. That was the Wickham. Jonathan was part of the Wickham, and as classy—so I thought—and elegant as it is.”

“That’d be your type.”

“Classy and elegant has its pull,” she qualified. “And he was charming, believe me. He knew art and music and wine and fashion. I learned, and I wanted to. He pursued me, and that was flattering and exciting. His family opened the doors for me, and that was heady. My life plan expanded. I’d manage the Wickham, marry Jonathan. We’d be one of D.C.’s power couples. I’d entertain, brilliantly, manage the hotel, again brilliantly, eventually have two children we’d both adore, and so on . . . I know exactly how shallow all that sounds.”

“I don’t know about that. It’s a plan.”

“I thought I loved him, so that’s a factor. But I didn’t.” Realizing that had been both comfort and pain. “He didn’t break my heart, and he should have. He broke my spirit, and that’s lowering. He shattered my pride, and that’s hard to come back from. But he didn’t break my heart, so in some ways I understand, now, I used him, too.”

“Bullshit.”

His instant and terse opinion surprised her. “Really?”

“Really. He pursued you, your term. His family went right along with it. You had reason to believe things were going according to that plan. And you thought you loved him. Maybe you were stupid, but you didn’t use him.”

She considered. “I think I like the idea of using him more than being stupid.”

“It’s finished anyway.”

“Yes, it is. So. You. You have two brothers who hold long-term affection from a young age. Any torches held?”

“Me?” The idea amused him a little. “No. I leave that to Owen and Beck.”

“No broken hearts or spirits?”

“Cameron Diaz. She doesn’t know I exist. It’s tough to take.”

He made her laugh again. “I have that same problem with Bradley Cooper. What’s wrong with them?”