Catch Your Breath (2 page)

“A babysitter for tomorrow night?”

“Sorry, no can do. You know I love baby Patrick, but I have a work thing tomorrow
night.” She tossed her keys on the coffee table and hung the dress on the back of
her bedroom door. “How about Sunday?”

“No. I have to be at the bar on Sunday.”

Moira sighed. Ryan always did stuff for the rest of them. “How about during the day?
I can spend the afternoon at your house and head out to the party from there.”

Ryan went silent and she knew he was considering the option. “That might work. Let
me talk to Quinn.”

“Let me know.” She disconnected and called her mom, seamstress extraordinaire. “Hi,
Mom. I bought a new dress. Any chance you can hem it for me?”

“When do you need it?”

“For tomorrow?”

Her mother tsked like she always did.

“I just bought it today, and it fits really well. Except for the length, of course.”

“But when did you know you needed a dress? When did you go shopping for it?”

Mom had her there. So she procrastinated. In her defense, had she gone shopping earlier,
she probably wouldn’t have gotten this perfect dress. “You should be used to it by
now. It’s not like I became an adult and suddenly started procrastinating. I’ve waited
until the last minute for everything my whole life.”

“Come for dinner and I’ll do it after.”

“Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”

Her mom disconnected without acknowledging her gratitude. Her mother would make a
real dinner, so Moira was getting a double bonus.

Unfortunately, this was a pretty typical Friday night for her. For a long time, she
thought things were good—she was getting where she wanted to be. But now, she watched
her older brothers all find love and she felt like she was missing out.

Like when she was a teenager and they all had girlfriends. Many girlfriends. But they
scared off any guy who came looking for her.

She liked having protective brothers, but damn, she wanted a little taste of what
they had. No, a taste would never be enough. She wanted the whole shebang, her own
fairy tale.

Hanging out with her mom on a Friday night wouldn’t get her there.

On Saturday, Jimmy dressed in the rented tux and tried not to feel trapped. He was
still getting used to wearing a suit on a daily basis. A tuxedo felt so formal and
stiff, like being in a straightjacket. He walked downstairs to check on his dad before
heading out.

“Where the hell you going all dressed up?”

“Work,” Jimmy answered. “Did you check your blood?”

His dad nodded and drank from a glass. Jimmy eyed the liquid to determine what it
was.

“Diet root beer,” Dad said. “And before you ask, yeah, I ate dinner, even my vegetables.”

If this was what being a parent felt like, maybe he wasn’t cut out to be a father.
Jimmy could barely control his temper over his dad’s attitude about everything. It’s
not like Jimmy wanted to mother him.

“What kind of case makes you dress like a damn penguin?”

“Undercover.”

“There’s the reason I stayed in uniform. Things are black and white. None of that
shite.” He slugged back more of his root beer.

While his father had been a good cop, Jimmy knew Dad hadn’t been particularly ambitious
either, which had been the main reason he’d stayed in uniform his entire career. Jimmy
wanted more. More money, more respect—he wanted it all.

Dad couldn’t understand, so they clashed pretty often when it came to talking about
work. Jimmy avoided the topic whenever possible, but at the same time, he knew Dad
loved to have a small piece of his life back by talking over a case with Jimmy.

He took the Blue Line downtown and walked the few blocks to the mayor’s office. The
tuxedo irritated the shit out of him. He tried not to claw at the tie and hoped the
stench of the El didn’t stick to him.

Gabby offered to drive, but it didn’t make sense for her to drive to the North side
when she lived south. They planned to meet at the mayor’s office and he’d ride with
the mayor. Give him a chance to get chummy with the man.

As he turned the corner in front of the building, a long, high-pitched whistle broke
the air. Gabby stood, leaning against her car, smiling at him.

Christ. It was going to be a long night.

“You clean up good, O’Malley. Maybe this should be your new uniform. You’re not as
scary in a tux as you are in your suit.”

He took in her clothes—jeans and comfortable shoes—and wished he had suggested that
she take this assignment. She did have seniority.

But backup didn’t impress people. The guy who went through the door first was the
one everyone remembered.

He was determined to be that guy.

They walked to the mayor’s office and sat in the reception area waiting together.
They were on time. Why couldn’t everyone else be?

When the mayor emerged from his office, wearing a tux that looked much better than
his, Jimmy stood. “Mayor Park, it’s good to meet you.”

“Detectives O’Malley, Ruiz.” He nodded at them and pointed at his office. “Join me
a few minutes before we head out.”

Once they were behind closed doors, the mayor’s countenance changed, relaxed. “Look,
I know my request was strange and the two of you probably think I’m crazy. But a good
friend of mine lost some very expensive jewelry in the theft. I don’t think he’s the
only one. I’ve heard rumors of other burglaries, and I think we have a sizeable theft
ring running in the city, targeting wealthy men.”

He paused and waited for a response.

Jimmy asked what he knew both he and Gabby wondered. “Why haven’t the burglaries been
reported? Alert other members of the social circle to be aware, hire extra security
. . .”

“I don’t know about other cases, but I know in my friend’s, he was in a compromising
position that he didn’t want to get out. These are important men with deep pockets
and reputations they need to protect.”

The muscles in Jimmy’s jaw tightened. As if men with less money didn’t have reputations
worth protecting. “What do you hope will come from this operation, sir?”

“I’m thinking that if I bring you in, you’ll see or hear things I don’t. You’ll be
able to build a case and put these men’s minds at ease.” He pressed his lips together,
then inhaled deeply. “I don’t like to waste city resources and I don’t take this lightly.
Give me a few weeks. By then, you’ll have had the chance to meet people and be accepted
into the circle. If you find nothing, that’ll be the end of it.”

“Yes, sir.”

The mayor moved forward and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “And starting right now,
I’m Bill, not sir. Am I right, James?”

James would take some getting used to. He’d only been James when he was in trouble
growing up. In the recesses of his memory, he could hear his mom calling
James Matthew O’Malley
. . . . He stopped the memory from going further and focused on becoming James Buchanan.

Some tech guy in the department created a whole online life for James Buchanan and
Jimmy had spent the day memorizing enough to be able to pass basic conversations.
James Buchanan had led a charmed life.

Hours later, he still felt strangled by the bow tie and he’d shaken so many hands
that he probably had a lifetime of germs on his palm. How did politicians do this
day after day? Mayor Park—Bill—had introduced him to many men, and in the few moments
they had between introductions, Bill had pointed out the men who had been rumored
to have been robbed.

Now Bill left him standing with Stan Decker, some guy who was in real estate using
hard sell tactics on James. Jimmy listened with half his attention, while scanning
the remaining guests. Through the crowd, he caught a glimpse of a woman with a great
rack. Her tits were spilling out of the top of her green dress. Not obscenely so,
but enough to draw attention.

Jimmy stared at the milky white globes barely contained by the slippery material.
His eyes wandered across the expanse of skin up over her collarbone and to her face.

And then his heart stopped.

What the hell was Moira O’Leary doing here?

As if she felt him staring, she started to turn his way and he ducked a little to
the side. Fuck. So much wrong with the entire situation. Forcing his tongue to work,
he said, “Sorry to interrupt you, Stan, but I need to make a call.”

Jimmy fumbled for his phone and dodged out of the way before Moira made eye contact.
He jostled through the crowd, zigzagging like he would on the football field. He spared
a moment to glance over his shoulder and saw Moira heading to where he’d left Stan.
A crowd stood in front of the elevators, so he veered toward the stairs and dialed
Gabby.

“My cover’s blown. Meet me out front.” He hung up before she could rattle off questions.

He couldn’t believe it. Of all the people to show up at this party, it had to be Moira
O’Leary. He hadn’t expected any of the O’Learys to be there—they weren’t part of this
circle any more than he was—but in the back of his mind, he knew seeing Griffin Walker
was a possibility. He was one guy from the neighborhood who had made it big. He also
knew Walker would keep his mouth shut.

Moira was a completely different story. That girl talked a mile a minute to anyone,
anywhere, anytime. He’d made it a few measly hours into his special assignment before
being blown out of the water by Moira. The girl was a menace.

Some things never change.

As he pushed through the revolving door in the lobby of the hotel, the image of Moira’s
tits stuck in his head. He tried to push the picture away. He had no right to ever
think about her that way. She was Liam’s little sister, for Christ’s sake.

Nothing looked too little tonight, though. Blood stirred in his body where it shouldn’t
and he clenched his jaw.

Yeah, some things never change.

Moira strode across the room, sure she’d seen Jimmy O’Malley talking to Stan Decker.
She’d avoided Decker for the first few hours of the party. The man hit on her relentlessly,
and whenever he talked, he spoke directly to her chest. She had no idea how he managed
to sell so many properties if that’s how he treated clients.

But right now, her curiosity got the better of her and she had to see if it was Jimmy.
She’d barely caught a glimpse, but something about the man made her believe it was
him. Like on an instinctual level, her body knew.

Which was just plain silly, and she knew it, but she couldn’t help it. She’d been
in love with Jimmy since the age often and he’d never given her the time of day. Except
to tell her to scram because she annoyed him.

She approached Decker with a friendly smile, not that he’d notice. “Hi, Mr. Decker.
How are you this evening?”

“Good, and you?”

She tried not to inhale, forcing her boobs higher and closer to his face. “I’m fine.
The man you were just talking to, was that—”

“James Buchanan, new to town. Friends with the mayor.”

“Oh.” Why the news should disappoint her made little sense. Maybe part of her wanted
to see a friendly face in the crowd. A real friend, not the phoniness of people who
wanted their picture taken. Jimmy might not be a real friend, but being Liam’s friend,
he would probably put in the effort to be nice to her. Probably.

Moira made her rounds, talking to donors and visiting with the parents of sick kids.
Listening to their stories was both inspiring and heartbreaking. One thing she took
away from it, though, was the strength they displayed. Especially the couples. Trying
to hold a family together while caring for a sick child had to be devastating. Watching
them hold hands and support each other while talking about their families gave her
hope.

One day, she’d find the man who would hold her hand and help her meet her dreams and
goals. They’d build a life together, have a family, find happiness. She wanted what
her family had. Sometimes she thought she was born in the wrong decade. If only she
could be like Bogie and Bacall or Tracy and Hepburn.