Taste for Trouble (39 page)
“James,
hey. Listen, I—”
He
grabbed Will by the scruff of the neck and hauled him into his arms. Squeezed
the ever-living hell out of him and laughed in relief. Will had come back. His
family wasn’t complete—never would be without Bel beside him—but it was one
hell of a lot better than it had been two minutes ago. He pulled back to grin
at his wayward brother. “Hey yourself, bro.”
Will
arched one brow. “That’s it? Just hey? No
where the hell have you been, you
asshole
?”
“Nope.”
James clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll tell me that when you’re ready, I
imagine. Meanwhile, I’m just happy to see your ugly face.”
“But
if it’ll make you feel better?” Audrey stepped up and punched Will’s shoulder,
hard. “Where have you
been
, you asshole?”
“Ow.”
He rubbed his shoulder and scowled at her. “Why are
you
hitting me?”
“We
needed you here!” She hit him again. (
Ow
. More scowling.) “Do you have
any idea what’s been going on here this morning? Bel’s gone!
Gone
, you
jerk! And poor James is beating himself up thinking it’s all his fault but your
hands aren’t exactly clean where Bel’s concerned, and you know it. So instead
of running off without a word like a whiny-pants jerk wad—”
“Whiny-pants
jerk wad.” Drew rolled the words around his mouth like a professional wine
taster. “Nice.”
“—you
should have
been here
for him. For us! But no, not you. You were too
busy doing God knows what with God knows who, probably putting down whole
bottles of expensive God knows what the whole time! So if he—” She hooked a
thumb over her shoulder at James, who took an automatic step back. Audrey had
some temper on her and James was a prudent man. “—can find the grace to forgive
you, you can pony up some goddamn gratitude!”
“You’re
right.” Will put up those hands again. “Okay, you’re right. I’m not going to
argue. I deserve that.”
Audrey
frowned. “Well, of course you do.” But it was muttered, half-hearted.
“And
if you’ll give me a few minutes, I’ll explain everything. Where I’ve been, why
I went, why I’m going back.”
“Going
back?” James frowned. “But you just—”
He
shifted that gaze to James. “I can tell you about Bel, too, though I don’t know
as much on that score.”
“You’ve
talked to Bel?” Hope exploded almost painfully within him and he grabbed Will’s
arm. “Where is she? What did she say? Is she all right? Did she—”
Will
gripped James’ shoulder. “She’s fine. Pissed at you and unhappy in general but
fine. She’s why I’m fine—or going to be—and she’s why I’m here.” He nodded
toward the couch. “Sit down and I’ll tell you everything I know.”
James
and Drew headed for the couch but Audrey hesitated in the doorway.
“You,
too, Audrey.” Will smiled at her. James gaped. It had been years since Will had
smiled and it hadn’t felt like a weapon. “You deserve to hear this, too.”
“Oh,
but—” She glanced toward the door.
“Jillian’s
fine. She’s in her room with one of Drew’s e-readers.”
“Uh
oh.” Drew sat forward. “Which one?”
Audrey
tensed. “The blue one. The mini-tablet?”
“Okay.”
Drew smiled. “That’s fine, then. Porn’s on the red one.”
She
stared for a moment. “Right. I’ll remember that.” She sank onto the couch with
a muttered
Lord Almighty
.
Drew
turned his attention back to Will. “All right. Lay it on us.”
“So
Bob called me last night.” Will tucked the tips of his fingers into the pockets
of his jeans and faced them over the coffee table. “Late last night. Well after
Audrey and Drew made sure I was in bed like a good boy.” James’ brows lifted. The
words were right, the twisted smile was as usual, but he had the feeling Will
wasn’t mocking anybody but himself. And that
was
unusual. But impatience
prodded him with sharp fingers so he filed it away for chewing over later. “He
made me an offer.”
“What
was it?” Drew was big on audience participation.
“His
agency.”
“What?”
Audrey’s eyes went huge.
Drew
said, “He wants to give you the agency?”
“Hell,
no. He wants to
sell
me the agency. Apparently he’s retiring, effective
immediately—”
“Yeah,
we heard,” James murmured.
“—and
wanted to sell the agency. Wondered if I was interested.”
“Just
the agency?” Audrey leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “Or is he giving you the
client list, too?”
“Oh,
the whole thing, bait and tackle. Reasonable pricing.” His lips twisted again. “But
there were conditions.”
“Aren’t
there always?” Drew grinned. “But I’ve seen you negotiate a contract. You eat
conditions for breakfast. You clean conditions’ clock! You take conditions to
the—”
“I
accepted them both as-is.”
Drew’s
mouth dropped open. Audrey frowned. James said, “There were only two?”
Will
nodded. “Only two.”
“What
were they?”
“Number
one? The sale doesn’t go through until I get out of rehab.”
“Rehab?”
Now Drew’s eyes went huge.
“Thirty
days, in patient.”
Drew
considered that. “I don’t know, Will. You drink a fair bit but rehab?”
“Yes,
rehab,” Audrey snapped. “It’s where you go when drinking moves beyond a hobby
and into a lifestyle. Now shut up.”
“Yes,
ma’am.”
James
hadn’t shifted his gaze from Will. He didn’t know how Will felt about rehab but
if he was willing to do it in order to make this move, then fine. His decision.
Wouldn’t hurt Will a bit to lay off the drink, and everybody knew it.
But
he hadn’t mentioned the second condition yet, and James had an idea he was
gathering his courage. So he waited.
Will
said, “Bob even had a rehab facility in mind already, some place he’s sent
clients before. Evidently, when you’re in the business of making multi-millionaires
out of twenty-year-olds, you develop resources that way.” He shrugged. “I
filled out the paperwork this morning. I check in tonight.”
“That’s
wonderful, Will.” For once, Audrey sounded absolutely sincere.
“I
fucking hate everything about it.”
“But
you’re going.”
“Oh,
I’m going, all right.” He huffed out a short laugh and dropped his head. “She
didn’t leave me a choice.”
“She?”
James’ stomach dipped suddenly.
“Bel.”
Will lifted his head and met James’ eyes straight up. “Evidently, it was her idea.”
“Of
course it was,” Audrey murmured. “That girl is something else.”
“No
kidding.” Drew’s tone was awed. “I’ve been tempted to kiss her in the kitchen
myself. Nobody scrambles an egg like Bel. Glad I remembered myself now.” He
whistled. “Rehab, Jesus.”
“What,
you think this is some kind of petty revenge?” She made a disgusted noise. “This
isn’t for her. It’s for
him
.” She jerked her chin at Will. “You think he
was Bob’s first choice to buy his agency? Please. Bel’s just made Will the
world’s prettiest bed, not that he deserves it. All she’s asking is that he lie
down in it sober.”
Will’s
head stayed down and James imagined he was concentrating all his energy on
leashing that sharp tongue of his. Will was a stubborn bastard but he wasn’t
stupid. Audrey had a point.
“Hey,
where is this place?” James asked. Rehab was one thing—likely a very good thing—but
he didn’t want Will disappearing again. “Will we be allowed to visit?”
Will
gave a jerky shrug. “Not for the first week, I don’t think. But after that, sure.
It’s in Virginia. Not too far. Pretty country.”
“Okay.”
He sat back, but his hand crept to his heart, to the hollowness still banging
away there. “All right. Now for God’s sake, what’s the second condition?”
Will
paused, and James’ heart banged harder. “The second condition is that I pass
along a message and extract a promise.”
“A
promise?”
“Yeah.
To Bob.”
“God.”
James scrubbed both hands through his hair and put his elbows on his knees. Drew’s
hand found his shoulder, gave it a bracing squeeze. “Okay, I’m ready. Hit me. What’s
the message?”
“It’s
not word-for-word,” Will warned him. “So don’t try to read between the lines or
anything. Bob said to tell you that Bel’s sorry she left without saying goodbye
but she’ll be back.”
“She’s
coming back?” James shot to his feet. “Oh, thank Christ. When?”
“Christmas.”
Will rocked back on his heels. “Bob’s launching some
new venture
—” He
put the words in finger quotes. “—and he’s apparently hired Bel as his personal
assistant.” He threw up a flat hand. “Don’t ask me what or where it is because
I have no idea. Bob didn’t say and I didn’t ask. I only know that they’ll be
on-site with it until Christmas at which point they’ll come home and Bel will
come see you.”
“Christmas,”
James breathed. “That’s, like, six weeks from now.”
“More
like seven. You ready for the rest? The promise?”
“Anything.”
“While
she’s away? Leave her alone.”
He
flinched like he’d taken a punch. “She said that?”
“No,
Bob said that but I don’t think she disagrees.” He took a seat on the edge of
the coffee table facing James. “You’ve just got to wait this one out, bro. She’s
calling the shots now.” His mouth was grim, flat. “On all of us.”
“For
God’s sake, listen to yourselves!” Audrey shot to her feet, fists on her hips. “All
Bel’s asking for is your patience and your trust. Maybe enough time to come to
terms with the fact that she didn’t have either of them last night.” She gave
James an accusing look. He held it bravely. Girl had a point. “If she’s your
family now—”
“She
is.”
“—then
for the love of Pete, act like it. Earn her.”
“That’s
what I said!” Drew slapped his knee, delighted. “Just before you guys came in,
I was like
Dude, Bel’s a peach. You’ve got to earn her
. And James was
all
Dude, how
? And I was all
hell if I know
but it sounds like Bel’s
delivered the step-by-steps.” He sighed happily. “I love that girl. I had dibs,
you know.”
Audrey
rolled her eyes and went on. “And in case you were unclear, earning her means
abiding by her wishes in this, James. So stop mucking around and just let it
unfold.”
“It’s
just like you said to Ford the ex-fiancé,” Drew said. “Remember? Right before
he ran off with the ex-assistant? Something about not forcing shit, just
letting it sing?”
“Flow,”
Will supplied bitterly. “He said love should flow.”
“There
you go.” Drew sat back, satisfied. “You got to let this one flow, son.”
“Flow.”
James clenched his jaw so tightly he feared for his molars. Everything in him
howled in protest. He wasn’t built to sit and wait. “Sing.” He shifted his eyes
to Will for a long moment. “Christmas. You’re sure?”
He
lifted his shoulders. “That’s what Bob said.”
James
thought about his still, quiet kitchen. He thought about six—no, seven—endless
weeks of cold silence from the other half of his heart. He thought about what
kind of guy Bel could love, and wondered how long it would take to make himself
that guy.
“Guess
I’ve got my work cut out for me, don’t I?”
Three
weeks later
Bel
loved autumn. Really loved it. Oh, there were plenty of people who loved fall,
she knew. Who enjoyed the smell of wood smoke on the crisp night air, who appreciated
the way brilliantly colored leaves turned up their noses at gravity to dance
across breezes gone all swirly and quixotic. But her love went beyond these
simple pleasures. She loved autumn the way other people loved newborn babies or
baseball season—with a deep, primal, possessive devotion.
Because
autumn, to Bel, was harvest season. It was that most wonderful time of year
when the earth reveled in its own fertility and the bounty at the farmers’
market made her want to weep with joy. When she descended into her kitchen for
weeks on end, indulging in a frenzy of glorious, exhausting labor that ended
only with Thanksgiving dinner, Bel’s own personal high holiday.
Which
was why normally today would have sent her into a tailspin of giddy delight. Not
only had it dawned sharp and bright, bringing to life a sky so perfectly blue
it looked like a movie set, but it was also the Monday before Thanksgiving. It
was a day custom designed to meet or exceed Bel’s personal specifications for
perfection.
But
just now, standing on the massive front porch of the Annex with a bag of
groceries in her arms and her heart lodged in her throat, she couldn’t work up
any enthusiasm for it.