Intrigue Me (15 page)

15

E
VERYTHING
BETWEEN
THEM
had changed, it seemed, one second to the next.

Lisa wished the ride to her place had been longer. Now, when they were standing in front of her building, she should put a stop to this. She could tell him he’d be too distracting, which was the truth. If she took him upstairs, it would mean she really was going to confess everything. Not just her name, but the parts that mattered, as humiliating as they were. After all she’d learned about him—who he was at heart—she had to come clean if there was any chance for them.

Terrific time for her to decide she wanted a future with him.

It was hard to admit that a happy ending wasn’t likely. She’d lied to him from the moment they’d said hello.

Still, there was a chance.

Once inside the building, her thoughts raced a mile a minute. How to start the conversation, how to keep her ex-client out of her confession.

“This is nice,” he said, holding the elevator door for her.

It was just an elevator, nothing special, but there were no tags or graffiti. Even though there was no doorman, the residents were mostly older or parents and did their best to keep the place clean. “I usually take the stairs.” She pressed the button for her floor. “I steal exercise whenever I can.”

“Very wise.” He ran a hand down her back. “Which comes as no surprise.”

No one was in her hallway, and she had her key out before they got to the door. Her hand didn’t shake even when she remembered there was an envelope on the table that was addressed to Lisa McCabe. She’d have to move it ASAP. It had been stupid to bring him to her place. She wasn’t ready.

“It’s bigger than I expected.” Daniel scanned the room, slowing when he looked at the bed and again at the table she used as a desk. “No wonder they have you filing. You’re very organized.”

“I like to think so.” She put her key and the cash from her pocket into a small dish she kept on the table, her cell phone on a notepad. “Besides, there’s no room to be messy.” The envelope was right there, in her in-box. “Have a seat anywhere,” she said, keeping her voice light as she lured him to the bed. She didn’t take a breath until he plopped down.

Daniel was the first person she’d invited into her efficiency. She’d had to move there after Tess had wiped out her savings. The only reason she’d gotten the place was because Logan had cosigned and come up with first and last months’ rent.

“Come sit,” he said, patting the bed. “Tell me about the pictures on your wall.”

The wall. Good. That was something to do. “I took those.” Like a docent in her own museum, she sort of waved at the framed black-and-white prints and then went to the first photo. “These are my parents at the club where they live. They love golf above all things.”

“Except you.”

She thought about telling him why that wasn’t necessarily true, but that seemed like too much information. Maybe after she’d bared all and the dust settled in their favor. “These beautiful pups are Jessie and Miley. They were our growing-up companions. Best friends ever. I miss having dogs.”

“They’re great at not spilling the beans.” He nodded at the next photo. “And I suppose that good-looking guy is your brother.”

“That’s him. He’s very smart. Most women get sidetracked by his looks, which he milks for all they’re worth.”

“I imagine a lot of people underestimate how clever you are, too.”

“I can hold my own at
Jeopardy!
” Why hadn’t she framed more pictures? There was nothing left to do but come clean. Well, there was one thing.

He grinned broadly as she finally sat down next to him.

“You’re very good-looking,” she said. “But I don’t think you use that as your unfair advantage.”

“No?”

“You don’t have to. You’re gifted. Celebrated. That’s your ticket.”

His hand froze inches from her hair. “Really? Do I play that up?”

“You don’t need to. Everyone does it for you.” She leaned closer to him and touched his cheek with the backs of her fingers.

When he kissed her, the distraction she’d hoped for didn’t last. Instead, the repercussions of her lies, both outright and by omission, came to bite her in the ass. Her eyes burned with tears she refused to shed.

As their tongues stroked and teased, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering how he was going to look at her after she told him. Would he still want to touch her as if she were someone special? Or worse, would he shrug it all off because who she really was didn’t matter? Never mattered? He was as good as back at the Center and everything would change anyway.

Gripping his shoulders as if she could hold him forever, she deepened the kiss until it was desperate. He moaned into her mouth, held her close. She hated that her heart was beating so hard because of fear when it should have been love. But none of this was real. He needed to go back to his life. Now that she’d seen him where he belonged, she realized Eve was right to push. Daniel needed to take his rightful place. Maybe Lisa had just been his vacation fling.

She had no room to complain or even be sad. This, them, none of it was ever supposed to amount to anything.

“Honey,” he whispered as they both caught their breath. She had to close her eyes when he looked at her. “You okay?”

She nodded. Smiled. “I...I’m glad you’re here, but maybe we should cool this down a little.”

“Why?”

The confession stuck in her throat. Even after she cleared it. Finally, she said, “You’ve had how much sleep in the last forty-eight hours?”

Daniel’s hand slipped under her T-shirt and he softly ran his hand across her waist. His touch sent her worries to a backseat when he cupped her bare breast.

“Oh, God,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder then her neck as he gently kneaded her, making her want him so deeply it hurt. “You’re gorgeous. Like silk. And Jesus, your nipple is so hard for me.” He moved his mouth to her ear, where she could feel his warm breath. “I know where else you’re hard.”

She’d thought bringing him up here would be a good idea. And if they had sex maybe it would make it easier to confess. But she couldn’t hide behind their postcoital glow.

“Daniel, wait.” She leaned away, dislodging his hand from under her shirt. “You should get some rest before we go any further.”

He smiled at her. “Thank you,” he whispered, his expression raw and vulnerable. “For being there for me.”

She swallowed. He was looking for comfort. She could give him that, even if this was the last time he’d want anything to do with her. Because afterward she had to tell him. Everything. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Then her hand was behind his neck and she was pulling him into a kiss. He made this goofy little happy sound, which made her want to cry and never let him go.

When the angle finally got to them, and they had to move, he really looked at the bed. “Is this a...kid’s bed?”

It was cheap and she’d never expected to sleep with anyone, and it fit her, so, why shouldn’t she have a kid’s bed. “It might be.”

The smile he gave her was indulgent and confused, so everything was normal. For now.

“Take off your clothes,” she said.

“What?”

“I know the bed is a challenge, but I think you’re clever enough to make it work.”

He stared at her, and she should’ve been ashamed, using him like this. His eyes were red and his face pale. But he also needed her. To be truthful, she needed him right back. God, this might be the last time for them.

“Challenge accepted.” Before he took off a stitch, he grabbed hold of her bedding and yanked it back so hard most of it ended up on the floor. Then he pulled her close and kissed her.

She just hoped this second, or seventh, wind would last. With her lips skating along his neck, she started pulling up his T-shirt. All she could think of was if she could somehow confess everything and make it sound glamorous. Or epic, or anything else that wasn’t as horrible as the truth. This wasn’t like TV, where people were forgiven for their sins before the hour struck. He was already dealing with his father’s betrayal. He didn’t need another one.

His shirt went flying. Except for her making him lift his arms, she doubted he even noticed. He seemed fascinated by her shirt. He kept shifting it from one shoulder to the other, then peeking down the front to see her boobs.

“You’ve seen them before. They haven’t changed at all since the last time.”

“Sure they have.” He shook his head. “They’re in your apartment, for one thing.”

If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought he was drunk. God, he was going to sleep forever. “Before we continue, is there a certain time you need to wake up?”

“Already put the alarm on my cell.”

She smiled. This wonderful, remarkable ease they had. How was she supposed to let that go? “Tell you what,” she said. “If you undress yourself, I’ll take off everything but my T-shirt.”

“Deal.” He grinned as he undid his jeans.

This wasn’t the plan. She was insane. She needed to tell him. Now. Not make love first. She owed him the truth.

By the time he’d stripped down to his boxer briefs, she hadn’t moved.

“Um, have you forgotten our bargain?” He caught her hand and pulled her into his arms.

“I changed my mind. You should sleep first.”

He brushed a kiss across her lips. “How about sex first, then sleep, then more sex?” Before she could answer he kissed her again, more deeply.

It was truly amazing. All the time they’d spent kissing, each one still felt like the first. Full of discovery and ever more passionate. As much as she hated to, she broke it off. “Have you eaten today?”

“You think I care about food right now?” he murmured against her lips. But things became more languid. Soft strokes of hand and tongue. She could tell he was drowsy.

“Here’s my proposal,” she said in a soft hypnotic voice. “I’m going to go fix us a light lunch and get us something to drink. I’m thirsty and you must be, too. Then you can go to sleep. If you can find a way to fit on the bed. Oh, and so we’re clear. You’re not going to sleep just because you’re exhausted, but because I have work to do.”

He groaned, clearly not liking that proposal one bit. “Work comes first. I get it. But you don’t have to feed me.”

She stepped back and turned toward the kitchen. “I hope you like tuna salad sandwiches, because that’s all I’ve got.”

“Sounds great,” he said, the lie so obvious it would have been funny any other time.

Her kitchen wasn’t much. Just a dorm-sized fridge, a countertop, a microwave and a toaster oven. Plus a coffeemaker, of course. A pony wall separated the area from the living room/bedroom.

Remembering the envelope with her name on it, she fought the urge to hide it and got the tuna and the bread out of the fridge. “I’ve got diet soda or beer.”

“Beer, please.”

That solved, she started making the sandwiches as she prepared herself for what was to come. She’d been a cop, and a good one, and she’d faced things a lot harder than making things right with someone she cared about. Even if he couldn’t make peace with the truth, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. It would just feel like it.

Her cell buzzed from her desk, and after she finished the first sandwich, she took a look at who’d texted. She almost dropped the damn phone when she saw Heather’s name.

Fleming a bust. Let’s take another pass at Cassidy. TTYS.

It felt as though she was having a heart attack. Everything in her froze or burned, even the tips of her ears. Heather was supposed to be finished. Done. And Lisa didn’t want her back. God, she knew so much more about Daniel now. Things she could have never learned from the best search engines or private investigators. The term was
intimate knowledge
. And she had that in spades.

Jesus, Daniel. She couldn’t tell him a thing. Not today. Not until she figured out what this meant. At the very least, she needed to talk to Logan. She put her cell phone down and took the envelope from her in-box and socked it away in her desk drawer.

When she finally gathered the courage to look at Daniel, he was sound asleep. She’d never been more grateful.

16

D
ANIEL
WAS
STILL
shaking off his strange morning when he arrived at the family home. It was a showpiece, of course, four stories with a view of Central Park. He had his key out before he remembered the place now belonged to Warren. Daniel would turn the key over to him before he left.

Instead of knocking, he took a minute. He’d spent most of the night at Lisa’s sound asleep. The last thing he remembered, not counting this morning, was asking for a beer. Then it was somehow 2:00 a.m. and she’d kicked him out.

He smiled, remembering how sorry she’d been to wake him when his feet hung off the bottom of her ridiculously small bed, and his shoulders took up the top. They could have dealt with that if she hadn’t had to go to work early. So, he’d made his way home, regretting the lost opportunity. Not just the sex, either. Time alone with Lisa had become a priority.

Once he’d gotten into his own bed, he should have fallen asleep right away, but thoughts about the visit to the cemetery kept him up. Not the part where he’d most definitely wanted Lisa to be with him. That, he’d deal with later. What had him staring at his dark ceiling was the way he’d felt after he’d blurted out all his fears. Warren would never have done such a thing. Neither would his dad. It seemed Daniel was taking all kinds of radical departures from the Cassidy rule book.

He’d tried to remember if Warren had ever loved the field. Maybe he did. Maybe, like Daniel, he would have chosen neurology on his own. But something told Daniel he wouldn’t have. Yet he’d been a good son, even though Daniel had been the favored child. For God’s sake, their dad had left Warren in the dark about the
big plan
. Daniel would see to it that it stayed that way.

At 6:00 in the morning he’d texted Warren that he’d like to meet him at the house ASAP.

Surprisingly, his brother texted back at 6:30 asking him to come by in an hour.

It was 7:24, and Daniel still couldn’t decide what, if anything, he wanted to say to Warren. Could he ask him if he’d ever wanted to be anything else? Did he blame their mother for leaving? Would Warren tell him the truth? It wasn’t any of Daniel’s business. Just like it wasn’t Warren’s to tell him how to live.

There were three things Daniel knew for sure. One was that he didn’t want to simply walk away from the clinic. The second was he didn’t want to forfeit a full life for the work. And the third was he didn’t want to lose Lisa. Although, he had a feeling the order was backward.

He knocked, and there was Warren, standing back to let him in, looking impeccable in his summer suit. “I see you have coffee. There’s a fresh pot in the kitchen if you want more.” He offered Daniel a packet of red sticky dots as they walked to the kitchen. “Mark what you’d like. I’ll have the items sent to your house.”

“What about what you want?”

“I’ve got green dots.”

Daniel supposed that was fair since he’d dragged his feet. So he just nodded and stepped into the expansive, overdecorated kitchen. When they were little, it hadn’t been this ostentatious. He remembered a lot of family breakfasts, a few lunches, hardly any dinners. But before school, he and Warren had eaten together. Their mother had never much cared for cooking, so they’d hired a lady to do it for her. The woman had been friendly and kept a secret stash of chocolate chip cookies just for him.

When Mom left, so did the cook. He’d been seventeen, Warren twenty-one.

Warren had poured his own refill. “Remember Angela’s Dutch pancakes?”

Daniel did. So clearly he could practically smell the apples and the warm maple syrup. “I’ve never bothered ordering them at a restaurant. They would never come close.”

“I’m assuming you don’t want kitchen items?”

“No, thanks. I’d like to check out the office and the library. Maybe visit the atrium, not to take anything, just to visit. And my old room.” As they started walking, Daniel asked, “You going to keep it?”

“I have a house. Besides, I’ve already signed with a Realtor. We’re setting the price at 122 million.”

“No way.”

Warren shrugged. “She thinks it’ll sell for at least that. Anyway, come on. I don’t want to linger. And don’t just mark the things you definitely want. If there’s a question, put a dot on it. Furniture included. God knows you could use some of it in that mausoleum you live in.”

“I’ve always liked the chairs in the library.”

“Tag ’em. And don’t forget the books are going to be sold. My bookshelves are as full as I want them to be.”

Passing through the living room, Daniel had to laugh at what remained the most obvious piece of showmanship he’d ever seen. The centerpiece of the large glass table in the middle of a perfect room that looked out the glass doors to the garden and the water wall was an
Architectural Digest
with the cover shot of this room, looking straight out the glass door to the garden and the water wall. That magazine had held a place of honor since before the issue hit the stands.

There was also a gorgeous grand piano, which Warren would have marked as his. He’d played, while Daniel had studied the violin. Hated every minute of it, mostly because it distracted him from medicine, but now?

“If you’re looking for the violin, it’s in your old bedroom.”

“How’d you know?”

“I grew up with you.” Warren didn’t stop until they reached their father’s office. “And listen, if you want to take your time, I’ll jot down the new security password for you.”

“I don’t want to keep you, but I’m glad that you’re here.” They were in the library, Daniel’s favorite room. The bookcases climbed the walls. There was a wood-burning fireplace and the most comfortable chairs ever. He put a red dot on each one, and he didn’t forget the ottomans. He thought about taking the coffee table, but didn’t sticker it. “Does it still feel like home to you, Warren? Did it ever?”

“Yes. It did. There were lots of places to go when I didn’t want to be bothered by my little brother. And we both knew how to manipulate the nannies. It was a good place to grow up.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about it.” Daniel brushed his hand over the long leather sofa before he put a dot on that, as well. “God knows we had everything we could ever want. But this place felt empty to me after Mom left.”

Warren stopped to look at him. “You were younger, so I can understand that.”

The antique carnival rocking horse hadn’t been claimed until he put his red dot on it. “You talk to her much?”

Warren shrugged. “I told her we were selling the place, but she didn’t want anything. When she divorced Dad, that was it for her. I thought she might want a share of the proceeds, but she didn’t.”

“It was nice of you to offer.”

He went back to tagging. “You’ll get your share.”

“My share? The house belongs to you.”

“122 million, Daniel. I think I can share some of it and still feed my children.”

Daniel had never considered Warren greedy but his generosity still took him aback. Made him feel good. He didn’t care about the money, though he wouldn’t be stupid about it. He’d talk to his financial planner, make sure to donate a nice sum to the clinic, a couple of other charities he liked. Start trust funds for his kids. Future kids.

Lisa came easily to mind. Of course they’d never talked about wanting kids or not. He hadn’t passed the wanting-sex-with-her-every-free-moment stage. But the way she spoke to patients and handled the children, yeah, he could see her as a mother.

Warren was eyeing him funny, so Daniel lost the goofy grin and got busy labeling hardback books, mostly first editions. Warren had chosen only one.
The Red Pony.

Daniel raised his eyebrows.

Warren smiled. “I should have just taken it. It was the first book Dad ever read to me.”

Daniel couldn’t remember if his father had ever read to him. It didn’t matter. He also tagged the chess set. It was hand-carved and beautiful, and he loved the game.

By the time he got to his room, the only thing of interest was his old violin. It was pricey and had a wonderful tone, but it had been years since he’d touched it. “Thanks,” he said, warmed that Warren had kept it safe, locked in a glass case.

Warren nodded. “I’ve got to go.” He handed Daniel a note with the password on it. “See yourself out, and remember, there’s still coffee.”

Daniel almost stopped him. But his brother left before he could gather the courage. Would Warren have been honest about his feelings toward Dad? Daniel had no idea.

He looked around his old room with the royal blue comforter on his queen-size sleigh bed and decided he didn’t want it, even for a guest room. It didn’t take him long after that to finish up, and as he grabbed one last cup of coffee, it hit him that Warren hadn’t brought up the Center at all. Probably figured that now that he’d gotten a taste of working there, he’d never want to leave.

There was no denying how much he loved being there. God, to work with state-of-the-art equipment, to partner with brilliant specialists, to save lives that few hospitals in the world could tackle... All his years of study had been with one goal in mind. To be the best neurocritical specialist in the country.

But working at the clinic had opened his eyes to so much more. How much of life he truly wanted. He just hadn’t figure out how to have them both.

Perhaps Lisa would help him find that balance. No, it was too soon to ask her something like that. If he had any right to at all. It would take all his courage just to ask her if she’d given any thought to their future.

When Daniel finally left, he thought about bringing her to see the place before it sold. That might seem too much like bringing her home to meet the folks. Although, he had already introduced her to Dad.

* * *

I
T
HAD
BEEN
fifteen hours since Heather’s text. Lisa was actively working on another divorce case in the middle of a street fair in Park Slope, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the mess she’d made of her life.

After Tess, she’d sworn she’d never get involved with anyone again. Not as a friend. Not as a lover. If she’d only stuck to her word, none of this would have happened. Heather would have found a reliable investigator, she’d have met Daniel and they would have clicked or not. Lisa would never have met him and never remembered how to care.

“It’s also good for stretch marks and dark spots.” The woman selling face oil was staring, first at Lisa then at the bottle she still held.

She put it down and said, “I’m going to do a little more shopping. I’ll think about it.”

The woman’s shoulders slumped, but Lisa moved on, first locating Kevin Spitzer, the proud owner of four food trucks that worked all over Brooklyn and the cheating husband du jour. Lisa would be able to put this case behind her once she got the money shot of Kevin kissing his mistress, which should happen when he reached the end of market, where he and his mistress would likely meet.

Just the fact that he was there told most of his story. He was supposed to be in Manhattan, meeting with a chef. Instead, he was standing at the CRAZZZY HOT HOT SAUCE booth, eating sample after sample. She took another picture and silently willed him to move on already.

She’d situated herself between booths while she waited, her mind switching instantly to how she’d answered Heather’s text with yet another lie.
Middle of something. Talk soon.
She could rationalize the reply, but she knew it was pure stalling while she tried to wiggle out of her situation.

Spitzer finally left the hot sauces behind him and crossed to her side of the street. She trailed him slowly, wondering if perhaps the reason he was dawdling was because they weren’t meeting until noon. It was 11:15 a.m. now. Damn it.

He’d stopped at a food truck, this one advertising their deep-fried candy bars. Kevin didn’t look as if he was in tip-top shape. Especially in the beer-belly area. Not her problem. Thank God, because she had enough of her own.

Being trapped between the lies she’d told Daniel and the truth she may have to willfully omit in her conversation with Heather made her chest tighten and tied her stomach in knots. Add to that the hours she’d stared at Daniel asleep on her small bed while she cursed herself for ever entering the Moss Street free clinic, and she wished she could run away from home.

Kevin had eaten whatever ungodly mess he’d ordered, and now he was buying a magazine from a vendor. He didn’t linger, which meant she didn’t, either. When he reached the big corner flower shop, he stopped once more.

Bingo. The market ended with the flower shop, and it looked as if he’d ordered a bouquet of pink roses. Lisa took several pictures, staying just behind him, busying herself with a loaf of sourdough bread that smelled heavenly.

Just as Kevin took the bouquet, her phone rang. Lisa held her breath, hoping like hell it wasn’t Heather. But she’d have been better off with her ex-client. The call was from Daniel, and she winced at each ring. She then counted the seconds until she found out if he’d left a voice mail or a text.

When the message was complete, she dutifully ignored it in order to make her camera ready. Kevin wasn’t just standing at the corner—he was leaning against the wall, his flowers in one hand while he held the magazine with the other.

Lisa lined up the most likely shot. It wouldn’t take long to just see the text message. She didn’t have to answer it or anything. But she was more distracted by not looking than she would be if she just read it already.

Four clicks on her Android and there it was, nestled among two texts from Heather and three from Logan. She opened it.

Miss you. Hope everything’s okay. Went to the house & met w/ Warren. Expected the worst but got surprised. Can’t wait to tell all. Dinner?

Lisa looked over at the corner just in time to see Kevin and a woman kissing. By the time she took the picture, she captured the back of Kevin’s shirt.

Cursing up a storm, she ran, trying to find them on the crowded street. Some idiot grabbed her by the shoulder, and she would have kicked the bastard in the nuts if it weren’t for the sourdough loaf in her hand.