Beauty & the Beast (3 page)

“Why? Does it bother you?” Poor Cat; back in her dating years, she’d gotten dumped a lot because of her badge.

“In my country, police officers are rough. And corrupt.” He smiled. “I’m sure your sister is very different.”

Not as different as my brother-in-law
, Heather thought impishly, sipping her appletini. They laced their fingers and headed back to the table. She wasn’t certain her feet were connecting with the ground.

Maybe she could hide the rash with a good dollop of foundation.

Cat and Vincent were both gazing at the two of them intently; Heather couldn’t help a rosy smile. Maybe Ravi was the one. Maybe all the elaborate wedding plans she had made first for herself and Matthew and then for Vincent and Cat wouldn’t go to waste after all. Heather Suresh. Heather Chandler-Suresh. It had a nice ring to it.

A platinum ring. With a marquise-cut diamond.

“Chicken’s getting cold,” Vincent said with his mouth full. His tone was stern.

“It looks delicious.” Heather gave her attention to Ravi as he pulled out her chair for her. She sat back down as he pushed it back in.

“Oh, my phone just vibrated,” Ravi said, patting the pocket of his beautifully cut black trousers. “I must have a text. Excuse me.” He fished out a cell phone—not his usual one—and studied the display. His face fell. “Heather, I’m so sorry, but I have to go.”

“Oh?” She frowned at him. “Is there something wrong?”

He grimaced and put the phone back in his pocket. “It’s work. They need me to come back. An emergency. You know how it is.”

Heather did, actually, and while it sucked that this was happening, she did understand. When he brushed his lips against her cheek, she flashed him an unconcerned smile.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he said.

“I know. Well, g’nite.” She glanced over at Cat and Vincent, who were regarding him stonily. They looked like disapproving parents, and a little frisson of defensiveness played her spine like a xylophone.

“It was very nice to meet you both,” Ravi said, and then he walked away. Heather watched him go, holding her breath and willing him to look back one last time at her. She had almost given up hope when he did turn, smiled, and mimicked holding a phone to his ear.

I’ll call you.

She wiggled her fingers at him and took another sip of her drink. Then she set it down and folded her hands on the table.

“People
do
get called into work, you know,” she ventured.

“No one texted him,” Vincent said in an undervoice. “He didn’t get a message.”

“How…?” Heather began, but she knew: Vincent had used his beast sense. His hearing was better than, like, a dog’s.

She finished her appletini in one gulp and picked up her wine glass just as a waiter filled it. White. Fine. She guzzled it down. Then she noticed the strangers at the table. “Good evening,” she said dully. She scooted back her chair and slid her arms out of the jacket. Her hands were shaking.

“I’m going home.” She rose and held the jacket out to her sister. “I’ll be by tomorrow before you fly out.”

“Heather, wait.” The jacket bundled in her arms, Cat began to get up. Every instinct within Heather ignited full blast to let her sister comfort her. But if Cat did, Heather would start crying.

Heather shook her head. “No, it’s okay, Cat. I-I’m just not in the mood for chicken, you know? It’s just… oh, my God, do you know how much I spent on this dress?”

She winced at the bemused expressions on the faces of the other people at their table. She would not cry in front of strangers. She would save it for her couch and her half-gallon of Moose Tracks. And lots of Netflix.

As she moved away from the table, she heard Vincent say, “That is not an STD.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Though he had a to-do list he should attend to, Vincent could barely keep his eyes off Catherine. As usual. She was so beautiful. In her stockinged feet and fluffy white bathrobe, she folded the jacket she had lent Heather with a sad little sigh. The
Sea Majesty
’s baggage service van was due in fifteen minutes and the jacket was the last thing left to put in her suitcase before she attached the TSA-approved lock.

Vincent had already completed his packing and was making last-minute notes for the charge nurse on his rotation at the hospital. Catherine had begun an email to Tess outlining her progress on a number of cases, and she’d vowed to finish it before she crawled in bed. He admired her work ethic and her dedication. They had both committed their lives to protecting others; it was no wonder they wrestled so hard with Homeland Security’s insistence that they continue working cases involving innocents who had been experimented on, as well as other beasts. If there still were any other beasts or victims of experimentation.

Hopefully we’re done with both.

He was tired at a bone-deep level. They’d been going full-out for so long; this fifteen-day cruise to the Hawaiian Islands was a belated honeymoon, and he fully intended to relax, recharge, and devote all his time and attention to making sure Catherine did the same. He hadn’t imagined that marriage would make him love her any more, but he couldn’t deny that the bond between them had been strengthened the moment they had spoken their vows and exchanged rings. He felt connected to her in a way he could never hope to explain. They were each still individuals, yes, but there was an incredible
oneness
that he had never experienced before. It was magical, mystical.

Truly, they had been destined.

The buzzer sounded and Catherine pressed the intercom. It was the luggage service, a nice touch: their suitcases would be flown ahead to Los Angeles and transported to the
Sea Majesty.
Everything would be waiting for them in their stateroom when they came on board. One less thing to worry about.

Catherine buzzed the driver in and Vincent helped organize the luggage in the elevator. Catherine, Heather, and Tess had gone shopping last week for some “special items” that had been declared top secret.

I can’t wait to see them. On her
, he thought happily. As the elevator doors shut, he gathered Catherine in his arms. She nestled against him.

Then her cell phone trilled.

“You’re on vacation,” he reminded her.

“It’s Heather.” She took the call. He could hear every word, but tried not to. “Yes, of course,” Catherine said. “Sure. Now? Okay.”

She hung up. “She’s coming over now. She’s so upset,” she said by way of explanation. “So she’s just housesitting one night early.”

“No problem.” He was determined not to get sulky. He could afford to be generous. He would have fifteen glorious days—and nights—on a cruise ship with his wife. It was kind of Heather to watch the apartment for them; it was a nice break for her as she currently had a roommate. A win-win.

“You’re the best,” Catherine said, and kissed his cheek. And then his mouth. And then his chest.

Plenty is never enough…

They moved to the couch. She was still kissing various parts of his body when Heather unlocked the front door and let loose with a shocked little squeal.

“I didn’t see anything, I didn’t,” she cried, covering her eyes as she half-ran down the hall to where her bedroom used to be. “But next time, get a room for real, okay?”

The Kellers burst into giggles. Vincent scooped Cat up into his arms and carried her into their bedroom.

And locked the door.

* * *

Bathroom.

Pregnancy test.

Bathroom.

Pregnancy test.

Tess huffed and sat up in bed. Beside her, JT stirred but didn’t waken. But across the room, Her Royal Highness lifted her head from her puffy pink velour monogrammed dog bed—“PM”—and destroyed Tess’s eardrums with a piercing yip.

“What? What?” JT yelled, slamming into Tess as he attempted to scramble off the mattress. Tess grabbed hold of him.

“Easy. It’s just the dog,” Tess said.

Princess Mochi did not move as she yipped again. Tess’s ears hurt. She pushed back the covers and put her feet on the floor.

“What do you want? Breakfast in bed?” Tess asked.

“Maybe she has to go out,” JT said, fluffing up his pillow and lying back down. “You wake her, you walk her.”

“We did not agree to that,” Tess said. “And I didn’t wake her up.” Except maybe she had. And the dog had already had one accident on JT’s floor.

And if she walked the dog, she wouldn’t be able to take the test. A plus.

“Fine.” She rose, threw on underwear, jeans, a bra, a T-shirt, and some flip-flops, pocketed her phone, and grabbed the pencil-thin pink rhinestone leash. Princess Mochi descended from her little pink cloud and sat beside Tess. Tess couldn’t deny that she looked pretty cute—she was so teeny—and she chuckled as she attached the leash to Mochi’s matching rhinestone collar. She picked up her phone—a habit that had become a necessity when she’d been promoted to precinct captain. Police business was now her business twenty-four seven. It was kind of like dog duty, actually.

Out the door they went, JT making a moaning sound in farewell. Tess checked her phone. Cat had texted
On our way!
with a picture of the two of them waving at her. Cat had a big fake hibiscus blossom tucked behind her ear. Sweet. She was so, so happy for her best friend. Cat and Vincent had been through hell and back and the bond between them was unbreakable. Not even dog-sitting could tear them apart. There was the whole he’ll-live-longer situation to deal with, plus they were talking adoption for having kids, but they had a love that would conquer all. Even a chihuahua.

Mochi’s entire pee output consisted of a teaspoon, but Tess decided to walk around the block anyway to make sure, and to clear her head. Speaking of crap, she had a lousy case to deal with when she got into work: The son of some friends of Chief Ward had been caught in a drug sting and they were calling in some kind of favor to get him off the hook. Tess was not a naïve rookie, but it galled her that she was expected to extend a courtesy to people she didn’t know. For four years, she had broken laws to cover for Cat and Vincent, and her solid faith in the power of black-and-white, by-the-book police work had suffered many blows. She loved truth, justice, and the American way, to put it in JT terms. She felt so satisfied when the system worked. Proper detective procedure leading to a clean collar resulted in a fair verdict at trial. Period.

They’re probably rich
, Tess thought.
And he’s some spoiled prep school kid who was doing this for kicks. And I’m supposed to put myself on the line because he burned his fingers.

“Can I pet your doggie?”

A little girl in pink-and-white striped leggings and a fuzzy lavender top decorated with a winged fairy in a tutu tiptoed toward Mochi. She looked so cute that Tess couldn’t help a smile.

“Better just look,” Tess advised. “She’s a biter.”

But to her surprise, Mochi sat back on her haunches and silently looked up at the little girl with her big brown marble eyes. Tess tensed, about to warn the girl to steer clear again when the girl approached Mochi from the side and stroked her back. Mochi didn’t move a muscle.

“It scares them when you pet their faces,” the girl said. “So you do it here. Nicely pet, nicely pet,” she said in a sparkle-fairy voice.

“Good to know,” Tess replied.

“What’s her name?” the girl asked.

“Princess Mochi.”

The girl nodded. “That’s a good name. That’s what I would name her.” She gave Mochi another couple of strokes. “I have to go.” She gazed wistfully at the pup as she straightened. Mochi made a kind of distressed panting noise. “I wish I could have a dog.”

“You probably will, someday,” Tess said.
But be careful what you wish for.

The girl kissed her own fingertips and then tapped Mochi on the head very lightly. Mochi licked her fingertips and hopped up on her hind legs like a scrawny petite bear cub. Tess gently tugged on the leash and Mochi came back to earth.

“Bye, bye, Princess Mochi,” the little girl said.

“
Yip
,” Mochi replied.

The little girl waved at Tess and headed toward a four-story brownstone. Tess waved back.

Trying to go after her new admirer, Princess Mochi tugged on the leash. At the same time, Tess got a text from JT.
Hold on, coming to join you.
She smiled. That was sweet of him. Honestly, he hadn’t wanted to dog-sit in the first place. He was only doing it for her.

But what if I’m pregnant?
she thought.
What if we’re having a kid?
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, if the kid was like that little girl.

She called him. “Hi, don’t bother. I’m on my way back.”

“But you just left.”

“A walk with a chihuahua is a short ride.”

The tugging grew harder. Then Mochi erupted into a barrage of shrieks and barks. Tess looked up—straight into the face of a hulking, mean-looking mutt. Filthy, no collar, all teeth.

“Back off!” she shouted as Mochi launched herself at the dog. He growled and lunged and Tess hoisted Mochi into the air above her head. Mochi struggled and yodeled, nipping at Tess’s wrists. “Get! Get!” Tess yelled.

Preparing to spring, the wild dog moved back on his haunches. Tess’s mind sprang forward, weighing her options—either kicking at it or retreating. She saw stitches at urgent care at the end of either decision.

In a frenzy of pipsqueak barking, Mochi peed on her head. Tess roared in fury.

The dog backed off, turning tail and disappearing into an alley. Tess did the same, heading back to JT’s place. Mochi had not shut up. Of course not a single New Yorker batted an eye.

JT was standing at the door when she marched up and thrust the crazed dog into his arms. Fuming, Tess stripped off her clothes and did not pass go. She stomped into the shower and washed her hair.

When she got out, wrapped in a towel, JT said, “Are you sure your brother gave us the right food? She just threw up.”

“What?”

“Yeah. In your shoe.” He pointed across the room. “Oh, whoops. Which she is now eating.”