B008KQO31S EBOK (17 page)

“Maybe I should clarify,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have looked you up and gotten you involved in this. I regret that, because I don’t know how this is going to shake out, and I don’t want you to feel any repercussions. You were right—I wasn’t thinking straight last night.” He gave me a sharp glance. “But I don’t regret seeing you again, Phil. You’re the first change I’ve seen in a long, long time that was for the good.”

“And what does that mean?”

He studied me. “That you’re still you, you’re still the same person I remember, but you’ve made yourself into who you want to be. It’s a change that’s both honest and courageous, and I’m glad I got to see it.”

His thumb moved across my knuckle and we said nothing. I tried to figure out the last time anyone said something so nice to me.

The thing was that I wasn’t quite ready to let Nick Sullivan sail out of my life again, whether he said those kind of things or not. “So, what are you going to do next?” I tried to ask casually, but it didn’t work.

“Let it go, Phil.” Nick pulled his hand back and watched me carefully. He was establishing distance between us and I knew what that meant.

But I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him to check out and leave the keys on the TV. You see, there comes a point when you know what you want, or at least you’re curious enough about it to take a chance. You can’t just sit around and wait for wishes to come true. Sometimes you have to reach out and snag that star, maybe stuff it forcibly in your pocket.

He’d said a lot of nice things to me, he’d come to me for advice and he’d come back to make sure we didn’t part badly. He might very well be just erasing a footprint, but he was pretty worried about ensuring the job was done right.

I took that as encouragement.

“Speak, oh inscrutable one. I’m just curious.”

“Why?”

I shook my head. “There you go again.”

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “I’m going to visit Sean.” He was watching me very carefully again, looking for all the world like a wily and unpredictable dragon, one desperately trying to look innocent.

One who you might make the mistake of thinking was asleep—right before he pounced and gobbled you up, breathing a little fire in the process.

Maybe he was looking for a little encouragement of his own.

“Want a ride?” I offered before I lost my nerve.

His eyes glittered. “Missing my little brother?”

I laughed. “Hardly.”

Nick didn’t laugh with me. “But you were always sweet on him,” he said with a caution the words didn’t deserve. “It would only be natural for you to want to see him again.”

“Right. I gave up wanting to see Sean gelded a long time ago.”

Nick was suddenly leaning across the table. “I don’t understand. You were nuts about him.”

“‘Were’ is the operative word, Nick. It didn’t last long. He treated me like garbage and that was the end of that.”

I started to get up but Nick wasn’t ready to let this drop. He stood so that I could not get out between the tables, an effective roadblock if ever there had been one. “But you cried your way through a whole dispenser of napkins that night.”

He smelled really good and it made me tingle to be so close.

All the same, I pretended my heart wasn’t galloping for the finish line. A woman’s got to have some pride.

“Because I had been such a dope, Nick. Not because my heart was breaking or anything melodramatic like that. It’s not as though I really knew anything about him—we’d never even talked before he asked me out. I guess that should have been a big clue.” I rolled my eyes. “Honestly, Nick, I’m not that stupid about men, despite what my mother thinks.”

He thought about that, and I wondered why this was so interesting to him. “When did you last see Sean?”

“I don’t know. Probably around the same time I last saw you. Why do you care?”

A twinkle lit his eyes. “Just curious.”

Trust him to dig out my secrets and keep his own. I decided that he’d had enough amnesty on that one. “You think I’m still sweet on him.” I patted his hand. “God, it’s cute when you’re protective.”

I’d bet good money that no one had ever called Nick Sullivan cute before and his expression told me I’d rolled snake-eyes. “Cute?” He practically spat the word out on the table. “I don’t think any such thing...”

“That’s right, you’re not thinking.” I scooped up my purse and waved to Chandra for the bill. “I wouldn’t want to be Sean when you show up to talk to him.”

His features darkened. “If he hurt Lucia...”

“And he probably did. So, here’s my free bit of legal advice. It would be in your best interests to have a witness of this little interview, Nick.” I gave him a knowing look. “We both know what a lying snake Sean is and you’ll want a third party to confirm what was said and not said.”

He sat back, his eyes narrowed. “Just how well do you know my brother?”

“As well as I need to.” He looked unconvinced so I leaned closer. “Nick, he would never have let you do what you did if he had a scrap of decency in his soul.”

“He’d learned to expect as much.” He shrugged. “I taught him to.”

“Ha. Some people take and some people give, Nick. It’s wired right in. If it hadn’t been you, he would have expected a gimme from someone else. It’s just the way Sean is.”

“Phil, you don’t need to go with me.”

Ah, the lone wolf, hunting his prey alone, regardless of what price he might have to pay. “You’re right. He might not even be there.”

“He’ll be there.”

“He might have a job.”

Nick shook his head. “No. The woman works. He watches television.”

I knew my curiosity showed. “How do you know?”

“I dropped by already, but relax, counselor. He doesn’t know it.”

He didn’t say anything more, which I figured was my cue to exit stage left. I’d made an offer that I thought he couldn’t refuse, but I was wrong.

Live and learn.

“Well, I’ve got to get back for Elaine.”

“I know.” Nick laid claim to the bill before it hit the table, conjuring a fifty so fresh it might have been printed in Lucia’s basement yesterday. I had a fleeting glimpse of the inside of his wallet and it was fat with more crispy new bills.

“I’ll get this.” He looked me dead in the eye, as though he’d dare me to ask. “It’s not nearly the thanks I owe you, Phil, but it will have to do.”

So, I had the thank-you I’d waited so long to collect. It didn’t feel nearly as good as I’d thought it would, but there you go. I’d been pretty blunt about my interest, but whatever interest he might have had had gone AWOL.

The reconciliation lunch was over.

“Well, take care.” I started to cross the restaurant, knowing damn well I shouldn’t have expected better but disappointed all the same. I was not going to look back.

“When do you think you’ll be cleared up?”

I spun to find Nick right behind me and nearly lost my balance. He caught my elbow and steered me toward the door. “What?”

“To drop in on Sean. I’d like to get that recipe from Chandra first and you probably have some things to tie up.” Nick frowned at his watch. “Would three be too early for you?”

I gaped at him and he smiled slowly, raising a fingertip to my lips. “Speak, inscrutable one. Yes or no?”

“Why are you changing your mind?”

He smiled and I had the distinct sense that dragon was preparing to have a little dessert. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

His smile broadened, and his gaze dropped to my lips. I could feel the warmth of his hand on the back of my waist again and I like it just fine. “You’re very persuasive, Ms. Coxwell.”

I didn’t even have the wits to step away, though my voice did sound a bit high. “Three’s good.”

He nodded once. “I’ll see you then.”

And just to add to the surreal sense of the moment, Nick bent and brushed his lips across mine. His fingers fanned across my back and urged me closer. It wasn’t as good as that last kiss—mostly because it didn’t last long enough—but it still made me dizzy.

Not so dizzy that I didn’t knock wood on the way out, though.

N
ick directed me to a street in the North End and I had to squeeze the Beast into the only spot we could find—it was not a lot of fun. He went straight to a townhouse that had been divided into apartments and leaned on the bell for #2.

I wondered when he had last talked to Sean as the bell echoed distantly.

Nick rang again when there was no response, then someone snarled over the intercom. “Whatever you’re selling, I don’t need any.”

“Sean, it’s Nick.”

There was a long pause, so long that I thought he’d leave us standing there until hell froze over. Then the security lock on the door clicked. Nick pulled it open, ushering me in and we climbed the stairs.

Sean was standing at the top of the flight, hands on his hips, silhouetted against the light from a fan window. It occurred to me that a flair for drama might be a dominant gene.

Even in the bad light, it was evident that the years had not been good to Sean Sullivan. That washboard stomach was gone—or at least buried beneath an avalanche of gut. He clearly thought he was still a looker—his jeans were tight, exhibiting more than should be legal to display, and his sweatshirt had the logo of a university football team. Even though he was about my age, he looked fifty if he was a day.

Maybe there is some justice in this world.

He grinned and raised his hand for a high five, a parody of the sleek jock he used to be. “Hey, big brother, long time no see.”

“I wonder why.” Nick’s tone seemed very dry in contrast.

Sean hesitated only a minute before shoving out his hand, and grinning too broadly. “Aw, come on!” he said boisterously as Nick took his hand with evident reluctance, then hugged Nick.

Nick is not a group hug kind of guy. He never has been. He said nothing but didn’t really get into the spirit of the embrace. He certainly didn’t participate.

Sean backed off and openly studied Nick. “If you’ve come for money, I don’t have any.”

“That’s not why I came.”

Sean elbowed him, his familiarity at odds with Nick’s reticence. And distinctly at odds with the history between them. “Hey, if you’re giving out money, I’ll be glad to help.”

Nick shook his head.

Sean turned on me, clearly hoping for easier prey. To my surprise, he checked me out but never spoke directly to me, turning instead back to Nick. “Nice piece.”

I bristled but there could have been heavy gauge steel up Nick’s spine. “Maybe you remember Philippa Coxwell.”

“No shit!
You’re
Philippa Coxwell?” Sean ogled, a past association, however bad, apparently enough to declare open season. “Jesus Jenny, you really have changed.” He winked. “Anytime you want to upgrade, Philippa baby, you just give me call.”

Nick’s hand landed on the back of my waist but I can fight my own battles. Besides I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “Why? Do you have friends with manners?”

He colored, then gave Nick a belligerent glance. “So what do you want? You’re a regular little ray of sunshine today, but then I shouldn’t have expected much different.”

“To talk. Preferably not in the hall.”

Sean thought about it for a minute, then backed away, gesturing to his open apartment door. “You want a beer? Josie! Rock it on down to the corner and pick up a six-pack. We’ve got company.”

A small dark-haired woman scampered out of the bedroom. She was petite and pretty, her eyes too wide as she looked at him. “I’ve got to go to work.”

She was wearing a plain white blouse and dark pants, as though she waited tables. Her sturdy shoes confirmed my theory.

She was pretty. I figured she’d make good tips.

“Then you’d better hurry up, so you’re not late.” Sean made no effort to fetch the beer himself, merely ushered us toward his living room.

What was this woman, his servant? I was annoyed on her behalf.

But she hesitated for only a heartbeat, then didn’t take issue with his tone. “I don’t have any money.”

Sean complained under his breath, then dug out his worn wallet and rummaged through it. He threw a ten at her, apparently not caring that it landed on the floor. She scooped it up like a dutiful little dog and ran to fetch his beer.

I felt like tossing my cookies.

Sean gestured expansively to the tatty plaid couch. “Make yourself at home.” The reclining chair was clearly his throne and not available to anyone else. He parked himself in it and leaned back while I had a good look around.

The place was reasonably clean, if somewhat down at heel. There was a big pile of empties in the kitchen—Sean’s taste seemed to run to cheap domestic brands. Either they didn’t keep a fastidious kitchen or he drank a lot.

I eyed his gut and decided that it was the latter.

His smile faded as Nick said nothing. “I suppose you’ve been out kissing up to Lucia again.”

“I haven’t talked to Lucia in fifteen years.”

It was strange to see how little the two brothers had in common. I’d noticed it that long ago night, but the years had made the differences more acute. Where once they had looked so much the same that they could have been confused for each other—and had been, much to Sean’s benefit—now they barely looked related. They might have been the same height still, but Sean looked shorter and was certainly rounder.

And their mannerisms were as different as chalk and cheese. Nick barely moved and certainly was a man of few words in comparison with his gregarious brother. “How is she?”

Sean shrugged and looked away. “We had a big fight—seems the old bitch didn’t think I was living up to dear old Dad’s memory in the way she’d planned.”

He rummaged through the open beer cans on the table beside him. I had the frightening thought that if he did find some dregs in one can, he’d insist on offering it to his guests.

“You always reminded her of him.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “What a pain in the ass that was. Jesus Jenny, she could never leave it alone. It got a lot worse after you left, I’ll say that. I guess she had nothing else to do once her golden boy was gone but try to remake me.”