All She Ever Wanted (10 page)

Dylan shrugged. "Someone wants revenge."

"At Emily's expense. It's not just Natalie's reputation that's going to take a hit. Emily's life has been put under the microscope. Words and thoughts that might not even be hers are portrayed as utter truths. I don't care how the names have been changed. We know, and soon a lot of people will know, that the character in that book is Emily. My parents are going to go crazy when they find out about this. It will destroy them."

"They're still in Europe, aren't they? When do they get back?"

"Wednesday. I have three days to come up with some hard answers. Do you have any ideas? You were in Santa Cruz with the girls. Who knew all this stuff about them? Was there someone Emily confided in outside of Natalie, Laura, and Madison? What about Drew McKinney?"

Dylan's mouth tightened at the mention of Drew's name. "That guy was a first-class asshole."

Cole didn't disagree, but he had to ask, "Was that your opinion or Emily's?"

Dylan sighed. "Emily liked everyone. She wasn't a good judge of character. She was easily taken in. I tried to look out for her, but I wasn't around twenty-four/seven."

"So she might have confided in Drew, maybe even talked to him the night of the party? Because I just saw him, and he was definitely hiding something. He also doesn't like Natalie. He was in the right place at the right time back then. He now has the means and the motive. Except that Laura's reputation is also on the line, and she's his wife, so why would he help someone write a book about a girl he knew ten years ago?"

"I wouldn't put anything past him. For that matter, I wouldn't put anything past Madison. She always had an agenda." Dylan paused. "There's something else you should think about. If Emily was pushed, then maybe this book is a way to get justice for Em. Wouldn't you want whoever killed Emily to pay?"

Cole stared into the eyes of one of his oldest friends and wondered why Dylan's words made him feel so uneasy. Did Dylan know something? But if he did, wouldn't he say? Wouldn't he have said a long time ago? He was practically a member of the Parish family. No, he didn't know anything. He was just guessing, like the rest of them. "This isn't the way to get justice," Cole said finally. "If someone had hard factual information, they could have contacted me or my parents or the police. They could have come forward in a less public, less sensationalized manner."

"Obviously, the writer didn't have hard facts."

"Emily would hate this," Cole murmured. He was surprised to see a smile play in Dylan's eyes. "You don't agree?" he asked sharply. "You don't think this would upset her, to know that someone has invaded her privacy, put words into her mouth, feelings into her heart, made her look like a victim?" His blood boiled at the unfairness of it all, and he silently dared Dylan to disagree with him. He was itching to fight someone, and right now his old friend was looking like a pretty good target.

"I agree with you," Dylan said hastily, the smile disappearing as quickly as it had come. "Relax, dude."

"I can't relax. Not until I know who's behind this."

"We'll find out," Dylan promised. "In the meantime, if you're going to hang out with Natalie, stay away from high places."

"That isn't funny," Cole snapped.

"It wasn't meant to be. Now, I've got to get back to work."

Cole sat at the bar for several minutes after Dylan left, feeling frustrated and pissed off. He'd come to Dylan for answers and had ended up with more questions. Why wasn't Dylan more upset by the book? What the hell was wrong with the guy? Was there something he wasn't telling? Dylan had always had a sarcastic and macabre sense of humor. It was what made him a good magician. Unfortunately, at the moment it didn't make him a particularly good friend.

Natalie was waiting by his car when Cole came out of the club. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that she'd waited for him.

"I would have left, but you're my ride," she said.

"Where's Madison?"

"She had somewhere to go. What did you and Dylan talk about?"

He tipped his head to the car. "Why don't we do this over lunch? I'm starving."

Natalie hesitated, then said, "All right. Let's go somewhere with an outside patio. It's a beautiful day, and I could use the air."

"I know just the place."

Rosie's Cantina was located on Pier 24 along the Embarcadero. It was a lively Mexican restaurant with salsa dancing and fire-eating performers in the evenings. Per Natalie's request, they opted for a table on the deck overlooking the bay. Natalie ordered a soda, and Cole chose a beer. The waiter set down chips and salsa and they both dove in. It was easier to eat than to talk. For the first time since they'd reunited on Friday, they were not chasing someone or something; they were just sitting together, sharing a meal.

It reminded him of the old days when having dinner with Natalie had been the high point of his day. She'd challenged him so much with her sharp mind, her astute comments, her insight into what made him tick. In the beginning it had been incredibly attractive. In the end it had terrified him that he'd let this one woman get so deep into his heart and into his head.

"This salsa is fantastic." Natalie gave him a satisfied smile that took his breath away. He remembered that smile, that look on her face, and it hadn't come from food—it had come from him. For some reason the fact that she was now so easily pleased by salsa and chips irritated him. "You should try some," she added. "Oh, wait, I forgot, you don't like it hot and spicy, do you?"

To prove her wrong, he picked up a chip, soaked it in salsa and popped it into his mouth. It burned a fiery hole down to his stomach. He coughed and reached for his beer, draining it in one long swallow. "Damn. That's hot."

"You never could resist a dare," Natalie said with a laugh.

"Neither could you," he retorted, when he got his breath back.

"I've changed. Apparently, you haven't." She smiled as he coughed again, and her eyes sparkled with amusement, transforming her into the beautiful girl he remembered. Her cheeks had reddened, and her mouth, her hot, sexy mouth was so full, so inviting ... He really needed to stop looking at her lips before he did something stupid.

"Tell me about your life," he said hastily. "I know you work a lot. Do you have a boyfriend? A significant other? A cat?"

"If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn't put him in the same category as a cat. However, as a matter of fact, I don't have either, but I want you to know that I have had boyfriends. You were not the only one." She waved a chip at him and said, "I got over you a long time ago. There have been dozens since you."

"Dozens, huh?" he asked with a small grin.

She tipped her head. "Maybe not literally dozens, but plenty. What about you? Why did your girlfriend throw a stapler at your head?"

"Apparently she was breaking up with me, and I wasn't paying attention. CNN was running a clip about a bombing in Lebanon."

"Oh." She nodded with understanding. "You're still a news junkie."

"It's what I do. Gisela didn't understand that. And she didn't care about the news."

"Gisela? As in Gisela the lingerie model?"

"One and the same."

"How surprising that you wouldn't have anything in common with a lingerie model," Natalie said. "Although I don't imagine that scintillating conversation was a requirement."

Cole could hardly argue with that. He sat back in his chair, watching as Natalie scooped salsa onto another chip and popped it into her mouth. He was enjoying her company, he realized—probably too much. He itched to run his fingers through those fiery red waves, pull her face to his, plant a kiss on those sexy pink lips. His body tightened uncomfortably as his thoughts took him into dangerous territory. They weren't college kids anymore. He wasn't foolish or reckless enough to rekindle a romance with this woman. His parents hated Natalie. And he was supposed to hate her, too. He'd certainly given it a good shot, especially those first few years when he'd reminded himself that Natalie had let Emily down. She'd gotten his little sister drunk and let her pay the consequences. It was Natalie's fault that Emily was dead.

Now the words sounded hollow, and memories of his own not-so-perfect behavior flashed through his brain. Hadn't he been just as much to blame? Hadn't he ignored Emily? Hadn't he made bad choices, too?

It had been a lot easier to hate Natalie when she was a distant memory. Today he was having a hard time drumming up any dislike. He thought about all she'd accomplished in her life. She was a doctor. She'd put herself through years of school without help from anyone. He couldn't help thinking there were more things to admire about her than to hate.

Maybe he was being sucked in by her beauty, her smile, her blue-blue eyes that made him want to keep looking at her. Maybe it was the tiny freckles that dusted her nose, her soft skin, her beautiful breasts that even now brought his gaze down to her chest.

"Stop looking at me," she told him. "It makes me uncomfortable."

"It makes me uncomfortable, too." He saw by the flare in her eyes that she understood his meaning.

"Let's talk about something else," she suggested.

"Like what?" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "What's on your mind?"

"Tell me about your job. I know you run the paper with your dad. Did you ever do the foreign correspondent thing you talked so much about?"

He stiffened. "I couldn't do that after Emily died."

"Why not?"

"My mother fell apart. She had a nervous breakdown. She couldn't get out of bed for about a year. My father had to spend all his time with her. There was no question that I would go to work at the paper, try to hold it together. My uncle is a business guy, not a news guy, and my other cousins are all younger than I am. I was the only one who could keep things afloat. So I gave up my plans and devoted myself to the paper."

"I'm sorry. I had no idea." She paused. "Why didn't you go later, when your parents were feeling better?"

It was a good question. He didn't have a good answer. "It was never the right time. There was always too much to do here at home."

"Do you have regrets?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It's not too late—"

"It is too late. Some things aren't meant to happen."

"They can't happen if you don't try."

"I still have a duty to my family. Yes, things are better now, but I'm all they have left. I can't take off across the world, put myself in danger. My mother would go crazy worrying about me. Every time I see her she tells me how lucky she is that she still has me. She can't lose a son as well as a daughter. It would kill her. I'm stuck where I am."

"You're not stuck. You have choices."

"Look, it's different for you. You don't have anyone else to answer to."

"You're right." She leaned forward, her eyes dark with passion and purpose. "I don't have a crutch, Cole. I can't use my family as an excuse not to do what I want to do. I have only myself to blame for my failures and for my successes. There's no one else but me. I'm alone."

"I'm not using my family as an excuse or a crutch."

"I hope that's true, because Emily wouldn't have wanted you to give up your dreams because of her. She loved you too much. And she was a big believer in experiencing life to the fullest. She made me try things I never would have considered doing. She had a tremendous curiosity and joy for life. Emily made me believe that the world is a beautiful place and looking ahead is much better than looking backwards."

His gut twisted at her words. She was right. Emily would have told him to move on. She probably would have told him that years ago. She'd spent most of her life encouraging him in his adventures. And when he'd come home from those adventures, she'd always been waiting to hear every last detail. The only adventure Emily had ever embarked on was her trip to college. He wished now he'd been around to hear more of those details. He was beginning to think he hadn't known his sister as well as he'd thought, and he felt bad about that.

"It's complicated," he said, realizing Natalie was still waiting for an answer. "I don't want to get into it right now."

"Fine. Then tell me what you and Dylan discussed at the club." She paused, her expression turning more somber as her thoughts focused on the problem at hand. "He doesn't think that I—"

"He wouldn't put it past you." Cole saw the hurt in her eyes and wondered why the men in Natalie's past didn't seem to like her anymore. Maybe they never had. He hadn't paid attention back then to what anyone else thought. "How well did you ever know Dylan?"

"Not well. He came to see Emily all the time. They were very close. She used to help him in his magic act sometimes when he worked nightclubs."

"She did?" He knew the kinds of clubs Dylan had worked while in college, and they certainly wouldn't have been places he'd have taken Emily. And why hadn't Dylan ever told him? "What the hell was he thinking?" he muttered.

"Emily enjoyed it," Natalie said. "She loved magic. I couldn't talk her out of the idea that there was something mystical going on in the universe. Believe me, I tried. Actually, it was nice to live with such a positive person. Every breath she took made her happy."

He sent Natalie a long, searching look, hoping to see the truth in her eyes. "So she was happy, right up until the end?" He needed to hear her say it. He needed to believe that Emily hadn't died hating him.

Natalie hesitated a moment too long. "I'm not sure, Cole. I thought she was, but Madison said that I wasn't paying attention, that Emily had things going on in her life that I didn't know about."

"What kinds of things?"

"Apparently, she was thinking about having sex, or maybe she was having sex, but she never told me." Natalie drew in a breath as she ran her finger around an imaginary circle on the tablecloth. When she looked at Cole, there was guilt in her eyes. "I never told her what you and I did, either. I guess there were some things we didn't share with each other."

Cole's chest tightened at the memory of just what he and Natalie had done together. He was glad she hadn't told, ridiculously pleased that it was just between the two of them.