Tied Bond (Holly Woods Files, #4) (4 page)

“Why would I? Rosie thought he loved her. What she did was wrong, but it wasn’t her fault.” Drake shrugs. “Besides, she bakes the best pie I’ve ever tasted. How am I supposed to be mad at her?”

“Wally was a whore. Is a whore,” Gianna cuts in, grabbing her glass again. She lifts the rim to her lips and tips it, finishing it in one go then handing the empty glass to Drake.

He gets up without a word and takes it inside, where I watch as he opens the fridge and retrieves the bottle.

“Don’t listen to him,” she says, cutting her eyes to me. Her tone is softer than it was a moment ago. “He protects me because he feels like he has to, and usually, I let him get away with it. He has big issues with Wally. They never got along—they’re chalk and cheese.”

“I can believe it.”

Inside, Drake carefully pours two glasses, making sure they’re even.

“He’s pretty...stubborn.”

“He didn’t trust him, and he secretly enjoyed saying, ‘I told you so,’ when the time came.” She smirks slightly. “And, apparently, the Holly Woods gossip mill has fueled rumors once more.”

“That and he saw Wally leaving here this week.”

Gianna purses her lips. “Well, that’s unfortunate. Can’t a woman have sex without her son sniffing around?”

“Oh, shit,” Drake groans. “I don’t want to hear this.”

I laugh. “Then leave the wine and disappear.”

“I don’t even think y’all should be having this conversation.”

“Why not? We’re just talking.”

“About my mother’s sex life!” Drake groans again and rubs his temper.

Gianna grins and lifts her glass. “Closer to sixty than fifty and seeing two men. Cheers to that!”

Well...the woman has a point.

“W
hat am I gonna dooooooo?” Bek drops herself down onto one of my scarlet-red bucket chairs and throws her arm over her eyes. “I’m not ready for this, Noelle. This is going too fast. I don’t know what I want. What am I supposed to do?”

“For the love of fucking God, Rebekah! He’s asked you on a fucking date, not to elope to Neptune!” I snap, slamming my hand down onto my desk so hard that a pen flips right out of the holder. “And not just a date, but a date to a place where you’re
already going
!”

“But that’s worse!” She flings herself forward and pushes her auburn hair from her eyes. “I can’t say no, can I? Can you imagine if I see him there? Like, OH, HI, I JUST TURNED YOU DOWN BUT HOW ARE YOU?”

I throw my pen. At her head. It bounces off onto the floor, and she freezes.

“Sit down, Rebekah Hough, before I make you!”

“I’m not—ah.” She drops back into the chair and sets her hands in her lap.

“Thank you.” I rub my hand down my face. Jesus, being the rational one in this friendship isn’t my jam. “Bek, Jason isn’t going to cut you up in your sleep if you say no to this date.”

She squeaks.

“Probably could have worded that better,” I say to myself. “Just tell him you’re going and will meet him for a drink at the party.”

“But how will I know it’s him if we’re all in costume?”

“Because you ask him for his costume, you turnip!” I throw another pen at her. “And he’s six foot three!”

“All your brothers are over six foot.”

“And?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “I’m just sayin’.”

I frown. “One of my brothers is married, the other about to be... Are you worried you’ll mistake Jason for Brody?”

“No!” Her response comes out a little too quickly—and a little too high-pitched. “I’m just saying!”

“All right, all right, Alvin. Are your chipmunks coming to back up your denial, or have they abandoned you?”

Bek slumps in the chair. “I don’t want to rush into anything, okay? Like, I look at Jason and he doesn’t look at me the way Trent looks at Alison or the way Dev looks at Amelia. Or even the way Drake looks at you when you
fight
and are screamin’ at each other.”

“Which is a lot. And we don’t scream—we discuss loudly.”

“Exactly. He just...doesn’t look at me like that. And I have so heard you scream at him.”

Whatever. “You’re comparing a guy you just met with guys we’ve known forever. Trent grew up watching Alison make bad choices with us. Dev grew up watching Amelia placate our parents. Drake... Well, he’s Drake.”

She sighs heavily. “I want that, Noelle. I want what y’all have.”

“We have love. It’s that simple. But love doesn’t happen overnight. Give Jason a chance, yeah? He’s not a bad guy, and one date won’t kill you.”

“What do I say to him though?”

Good lord. It’s like talking to a two-year-old.

“That you’ve already made plans to go with friends but you’ll meet him there.”

“And if I hate it?”

I hesitate. Ah... Quick, brain, quick!“Then you’re there with friends you have to spend time with.”

“And if I like it?”

“Then I can one hundred percent confirm your friends won’t mind.” I grin. “Meet him there. Now tell him before I do.”

“Fine, fine. But, if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

“Of course you are.” I roll my eyes. “Hey... You know Brody has a date, right? You won’t mistake Jason for him.”

“Why would I care?” She pulls her phone out, taps the screen, then shoves it in my face. “I have a date too.”

Seriously. “Okay, okay. I’m just saying.”

“Who is his date?”

“Melanie.”

“He finally gave in?”

“He didn’t get a better offer, I guess.”

“Hoooooo,” Bek breathes out. “Charlotte’s gonna be pissed.”

“Mhmm.” I watch as she walks to the door. “Probably not the only woman pissed about it.”

“That’s what happens when you’re a man-slut.” Bek slams my door behind her.

I smirk.

Well, fuck me. My best friend has a crush on my baby brother.

Isn’t that one for the books?

I shake my head, laughing quietly. That’s something I never thought I’d see. Mostly because, well, Brody
is
a bit of a man-slut, isn’t he? He’s been through almost all the eligible women in town, and I know that at least one of them wasn’t eligible.

The only reason he didn’t get himself a black eye is because he could arrest her boyfriend for it.

In his defense, he didn’t know she had a boyfriend. That’s his story, and if you ask him, it’s the one he’s sticking to.

I tap my fingers against my desk and bite the end of my pen. Well, now, I don’t want Bek to go out with Jason. Granted, I don’t think her crushing on Brody is exactly the smartest idea, either. But if I had to pick...

No. If I have to pick, and I both do and don’t, I’m going to pick to stay out of it. It’s not really my business. I’ll offer my opinion when she asks for it—and probably when she doesn’t, too, just for balance, you know—but I won’t go sticking my nose in anywhere.

I will be a mature adult about this and not tell my brother that she has a crush on him or try to sabotage her date with Jason.

I’ll try anyway... Because, hey, don’t judge me, but
la famiglia è tutto.
Family is everything, after all. And, despite the fact that he almost saved my life, Jason isn’t my family.

I also didn’t need him to almost save my life, but there we go.

Come to think of it, the bastard almost cost me my life
and
my relationship with his undercover party trick.

My pen lid cracks because I’m biting down on it so hard. No more thinking about the FBI agent going on a date with my best friend.

But what if Brody has a crush on Bek?

Didn’t I just tell myself that I was going to stay out of this? Meddling meddlers don’t make for a happy ending.

But he is my baby brother. And she’s my best friend.

Cazzo!
Fuck.

Behave yourself, Noelle Bond. You are not getting involved in this. You are going to let Bek make her own mistakes until she realizes she’s doing just that and tells Brody—

Wait.

No.

I drop my forehead to the desk. Why did she have to come in here, flapping her arms like a seal, all panicky? Why did Brody have to be mentioned? Why is my brain such a fucking squirrel?

Jesus. God. I need help.

Now, I’m half praying.

Life is ruining me.

“Uhh, why are you banging your head against your desk like that?”

I stop and look up at Carlton. “Because it might shut my brain up.”

“Good luck with that.” He flicks his dirty-blond hair out of his eyes and walks toward me, sheets of paper in his hand. “Here.” He hands them to me. “This is the appointment schedule for Lucas Santiago.”

“Thank you.” I sit up and take it from him. “You got this quickly. Like, really quickly.” I glance at the clock. “Seriously? Ten minutes? Are you the NSA or something?”

He snorts, but he laughs at the same time and ends up coughing. I cover my mouth with the appointment schedule as he grabs my untouched water bottle and takes a long drink.

“Thanks,” he says, waving the bottle at me.

“You’re welcome. Keep it.”

He grins. “And no, I’m not the NSA. Lucas Santiago, for being a top doctor, uses his birthday for his e-mail password and is apparently very reliant on Google Calendar.”

The glint of mischief in his eyes has me slapping the schedule on my laptop keys and scanning it. Meetings, phone calls, surgeries, the usual...

“Ahh,” I say. “I assume this particular account isn’t a family one, unless Rita Warren is his A: wife, B: sister, or C: boss. And I’m guessing his wife or boss wouldn’t need a hotel booking for the very same night.”

God bless Google and their syncing with e-mail booking confirmations.

“You assume correctly. Rita Warren is an ex-model once on the cover of
Playboy.
She’s now an attorney who specializes in medical negligence.”

One would think their dating is a conflict of interests, but okay.

“She works out of an office in Phoenix and is flying in while Dr. Santiago’s wife is in Mexico for her father’s funeral. The good doctor ‘tried’ to get time off but couldn’t.” Carlton links his fingers and stretches his arms out in front of him.

I wince when his knuckles crack. “Do you
have
to do that?”

“Sorry. Achy fingers from all of my sleuthing.”

“Ah, yes. You’re a regular old Sherlock.”

“True story. Took longer to change the ink in my printer than it did to find this.” He walks backwards with a smug smirk.

“Good. I don’t pay you to change printer ink. I pay you to borrow information. But my ink does need changing, if you have a minute.” I smile sweetly.

He rolls his eyes. “I’ll do it before I leave.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite employee?”

“Every time I get you information that means you don’t have to offer up babysitting for police files.”

“And I love you for it.” My smile widens.

Carlton shakes his head as he disappears down the hall to his office. Or his geek space, as I call it. The walls have recently been plastered with superhero posters and some equations I get headaches from just looking at.

I also recently learned he’s a genius, so one day, the NSA thing might not be so crazy. He could probably hack half the country in the time it takes me to get out of bed in the morning.

I pick my phone up and dial Grecia’s extension.

“What’s up?” she answers after one ring.

“Your name is Rita Warren and you have a dinner date at the Hilton downtown with Lucas Santiago tomorrow night at seven. He told you he’d booked a room for after, but he’s working all night and you’re flying in from Arizona and want to make sure the arrangements are correct.”

“Got it.”

The call clicks off.

I sigh happily as I put my phone back in the holder.

I love it when my marks are idiots. It makes my job so much easier.

My mother has to be kidding.

I know she is. There’s no way this costume is real.

Alison winces as I take it from the bag. Well, what there is of it—and that isn’t much. A short, sequined dress and—oh sweet God. Leather thigh-high boots.

“Well, it is a costume?” Alison offers lamely.

“Mom, what’s that?” Aria, now eleven, wrinkles her nose at the garish, gold dress.

“It’s...” She pauses, clearly lost for words.