Until There Was You (16 page)

“Sure you don’t want to catch up?” Posey said, trying to ignore the sweet, strong tingle Liam’s hand induced. This had to be a date. He was touching her. Right? Didn’t touching constitute intent? Also, he’d bought her all this food.

“Very funny. I can’t tell you how many times that’s happened.”

“What? You running into some girl you slept with?”

“I didn’t sleep with that one,” he muttered.

“You sure?” Posey couldn’t help grinning.

“Shush.” He held the door for her (very date-ish), and she went into the theater, which was one of those stadium types, and lurched to a stop. Ah. So
that
was why she was here.

Nicole Murphy sat four rows up next to the boy Liam had threatened at school the other day. At the sight of her father, her face went from bright and happy to horrified disbelief. “Dad! Are you serious?”

“Let’s sit here, Cordelia,” Liam said, loping up the stairs to the fifth row.

“Dad! No!”

“Oh, hi, sweetheart. Didn’t know you were coming to this show. What a coincidence.” His voice took on a harder edge. “Tanner.” Liam sat directly behind the boy.

So. Not a date. A stalking mission to ensure the chastity of his daughter. Super. She should’ve known.

“Excuse me,” said a man behind her. Right. She was blocking the stairs. With a sigh, she headed up to Liam. Who was an idiot.

“Hi, Nicole,” she said. “Sorry. I didn’t know this was a reconnaissance mission.”

“Whatever,” the girl mumbled.

“Hi,” Tanner said, turning around to smile at Posey. “Nice to see you again.”

“You have beautiful manners,” she answered, which caused Nicole to smile and her father to growl. “Tell your mom she did a good job with you.”

“Thanks, I will,” Tanner said. “Hope you like the movie, Mr. Murphy.”

“I won’t be watching the
movie,
” Liam said pointedly. He dug in his pocket and withdrew a miniature bottle of Purell and held it out next to his daughter’s head. When he didn’t withdraw it, she snatched it from him, poured a little onto her hands, and handed it back without looking at her father.

“I want to be adopted,” Nicole said, rubbing vigorously.

“I’m adopted,” Posey offered.

Nicole turned around to look at her. “Really? That’s so cool! Would you adopt me?”

“Sure,” Posey said. “Do you like dogs? I have a Great Dane.”

“Absolutely!” she said.

“Done deal, then.”

“Very funny,” Liam said, rubbing Purell into his own hands. “Want some?” he asked.

“I’m good,” she answered.

“I so cannot believe you’re here, Dad,” Nicole said. “Tanner, I am really sorry.”

“No worries,” the kid answered.

“It’s a free country, Nicole,” Liam said.

“Not if you’re me,” she grumbled, turning back around. “I’m, like, under surveillance.”

“True.”

The lights went down, and Liam reached over for some popcorn. “Get your own,” Posey said, leaning away.

“Wow. That’s not very nice.”

“Well, neither is taking me to spy on your kid, Liam!”

“
Thank
you!” Nicole said. The previews began.

“Look,” Liam whispered, and against her will, Posey’s entire side tingled. “She’s fifteen years old. Bozo there’s a senior. Do the math.”

“What math?” Posey asked.

“The sex math.”

“You’re an idiot,” she muttered, shoving another fistful of popcorn into her mouth. Why try to be delicate when all Liam was looking for was a beard? Or whatever the term was?

“You really gonna eat all that by yourself?” Liam said, eyeing her barrel of popcorn.

“Yes, Liam. I have a very fast metabolism. I have to eat a lot. If I don’t, I’ll turn into a bag of bones. Now shut up and watch the movie.”

She sat there in the dark, fuming. She was mad at herself, too—not just him. She should’ve known it couldn’t really be a date. Should’ve smelled something. Shouldn’t have read into him touching her arm, or giving her that hot look when he asked her, because let’s face it, the man oozed hot looks. He probably looked that way at his dentist. His proctologist. She wasn’t special—not to him, at any rate. She was nothing but a desperate woman dumb enough to go to the movies with him.

At least the flick wasn’t too bad. Sci-fi freaky thing about nature gone wrong. At one point, when the hybrid alien creature tore out someone’s throat, Nicole gave a little shriek, and Tanner put his arm around her. Liam kicked his seat, and when Tanner looked back, Liam said, in a very soft, somewhat scary sing-song voice, “Get your arm…off my kid.” And even though he was being a jerk, Posey couldn’t help the slight thrill she felt at the protectiveness in his voice. Papa Lion protecting the pride. Tanner glanced at Nicole, who sighed the sigh of a martyr, and obeyed.

When the alien hybrid had been killed (though not before it secretly gave birth to the sequel), the lights came back up. “Well, that was fun,” Liam announced. “Nic, since we’re going to the same place, I’ll save Tanner some gas and drive you home.”

“Dude, I don’t mind,” Tanner objected.

“Dude, you can call me Mr. Murphy, and I’m not letting you drive her anywhere,” Liam said. “Do you know the statistics on teenage accidents?”

“Said the man who tore through our quiet countryside on a motorcycle when he was your age,” Posey added.

“Dad! You drove a motorcycle in
high school?
” Nicole’s eyes were wide. “How did you, like, keep all this secret?”

Liam turned his head very slowly to look at Posey. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” she said, tipping the popcorn bucket to her mouth for the last few kernels.

“Tanner, I’ll take my daughter home. Nicole, thank Tanner for the movie.”

Nicole straightened her jacket. “Tanner, thanks for putting up with my idiot father, who’s, like, ruining my life, and if you never want to speak to me again, I totally understand.”

“I think you’re really cute,” Tanner said, and Posey had to give the boy props. He was brave or stupid or, being a teenager, both.

“She is really cute,” Liam agreed. “Also underage. Got it? I’ll press charges so fast, you’ll be picking up soap in the state prison before you even blink.”

“Dad! Please!” Nicole’s face turned bright red.

“See you in school,” Tanner said. He leaned forward as if to kiss her on the cheek, but Liam punched him on the shoulder, stopping him.

“Drive safe,” he said, and the boy got the hint and went off, leaving Posey, Liam and Nicole standing there. “I am
so
not going home with you,” Nicole hissed. “You
humiliated
me. I can’t
believe
you came tonight! Can’t I even go to the
movies
with a
boy?
”

“You did go to the movies with a boy,” Liam answered calmly. “And now you’re going home.”

“I’ll walk,” she said.

“Then I’ll drive alongside you until you get into the building, then call Mrs. Antonelli and ask her to keep an eye on you.”

“I hate you,” Nicole said bitterly, then glanced at Posey. “Sorry.”

“How did you get here?” Posey asked.

“Dad dropped me off,” she muttered. She pulled out her phone and clicked on it. “Gross! Dad! Jeez!”

“What?” Liam asked.

“Caroline Connors posted that you were hot! That’s disgusting!”

“So disgusting,” Posey echoed.

Nicole’s fingers were flying, and she muttered as she typed. “Ew. That’s my dad you’re talking about. And he’s a jerk.”

Ten silent minutes later, they pulled up in front of Liam’s building. “I’ll wait for the light to go on,” Liam told his daughter as she got out of the car. “And I’ll be back from her house in twenty minutes.”

Just in case there was any doubt that he was actually interested in her on any level.

Posey maintained her silence until the light on the fifth floor went on and Liam pulled away from the curb. “Think you might be a little overprotective, Liam?” she asked tightly as they turned on Bank Street.

“Yep. Show me a father who isn’t.”

“My brother-in-law says Tanner’s not a bad kid.” At his questioning look, she added, “I asked him yesterday.”

“He’s probably not. But what if he is? And come on, Cordelia. What eighteen-year-old boy doesn’t want to get laid?”

“Just because he wants to doesn’t mean he will. And Nicole’s not stupid. I’m sure you’ve talked to her about all this stuff.”

“I did,” he acknowledged.

“So I guess what you’re really afraid of is that Tanner is just like you, and all sorts of nice girls will be tricked—”

“You know what?” Liam snapped, not looking at her. “When you’re a single parent raising a teenage girl, you can give me a lecture. Okay?”

“Sure. And when you’re looking for someone to come spy on your daughter, ask someone else.” She stuffed her hands inside her pockets and glared at the dashboard.

“What are you complaining about?” Liam asked. “I bought your ticket. I bought your silo of popcorn. You seemed to like the movie.”

“Liam…” Posey took a sharp breath and held it and said nothing more. What was she going to tell him, anyway? That she’d thought it might be a date? That she was insulted that he’d barely spoken to her, that (maybe) he’d asked her to the movies because he knew she wouldn’t have plans?

He pulled up in front of the church and threw the car in Park. “Look,” he said sharply. “I’m sorry you had a crappy time. I just… Whatever. I’m trying to keep an eye on Nicole, and I figured you wouldn’t mind coming, since you seem to like her.”

Posey didn’t answer, not sure what to say.

“But I’d appreciate it if you kept stories of my idiot years to yourself,” he added. “Nicole doesn’t need to know what a shit I was.”

“You weren’t a shit,” Posey said. But then again, he had been. Ask any of the girls he slept with and dumped. Ask her. What about making fun of a girl because she was skinny, telling her prom date she was completely unattractive? That was pretty shitty.

Then again, ask her about that little striped cat. Ask her how it felt to float through the halls after he’d said hi in front of everyone.

Liam was looking at her, his face unreadable. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Okay. You better get back.” And before either of them could say anything more, she jumped out of his car and ran into her house, unlocked the door and went in, only to find Gretchen lying on her sofa in her pajamas, eating Posey’s last pint of Ben & Jerry’s Peanut Brittle ice cream. In other words, completely at home.

“H
I
. W
HERE WERE
you?” Gretchen asked. She tore her eyes off the television screen—one of her rivals from the Cooking Network—and gave Posey a fake smile, running her eyes up and down in the Scan of Judgment Posey so well remembered.

“Gretchen! What are you doing here?” Posey asked. Shilo lumbered over to greet her, then, getting a whiff of popcorn, began inhaling her clothes for leftover molecules. “How did you get in?”

“Your parents gave me a key. I thought it would be nice for us to spend some time together,” Gretchen said. “I’ve missed you.”

“Seriously, Gretchen.”

“I figured I’d crash here for a while. It’ll be fun! Like a big slumber party or a sorority. Come on, Pose! We haven’t hung out in ages.”

“By hang out, do you mean…you’re staying with me? Really?” Posey asked, sitting down.

“Sure. I love Max and Stacia, but they can be a little
too
interested, you know?”

“Uh, yeah, I do. Since they’re my parents and all.”

“And they were
so
happy when I told them how I wanted us to catch up and spend some real time together.” Another smile. “So. Where were you?”

“The movies.”

“Alone?”

“With friends.” She’d rather cut out her eyeball than let Gretchen know she’d been with Liam. You don’t just hand a loaded weapon to an assassin, after all. With a sigh, Posey sat in the bishop’s chair, Shilo’s nose glued to her knee.

“Cool. Cute place, by the way,” Gretchen gestured around the great room. “You have such…interesting taste.”

“So you just decided to move in, huh?” she asked.

“I’m hardly moving in, Posey. It’ll just be a few days. Maybe a week. I thought it would be fun.”

If Posey knew Gretchen, she was just about to whip out the Parents Pity Card.

“After all,” her cousin said, “we haven’t really hung out since my parents died.”

Bingo.

It had been a horrible year for everyone, but, of course, mostly for Gretchen. However, she’d taken her misery out on Posey through constant jabs and insults, minor thefts of Posey’s treasures—the little heart necklace from her dad, Oma’s blue crocheted blanket. Posey understood, but it hadn’t been easy.

But family was family.

“You’re right,” she said, albeit reluctantly. Shilo put his massive head on Posey’s lap, commiserating. “Sure. You can stay for a while. I do know what you mean about Mom and Dad.”

“Great!” Gretchen clapped her hands and turned the sound back on. “Is there anything to eat?” she asked. “Other than ice cream?”

“Um…you’re the chef, Gret,” Posey said.

“And the guest,” she replied, not looking away from the TV.

Posey paused. “Okay. I’m sure I have some cheese and crackers or something.”

“That’d be fantastic,” Gretchen said. “If you have some extra virgin olive oil and French bread, bring that too, okay? But only if it’s extra virgin.”

“I have a frozen French bread pizza,” Posey said sweetly. “Close enough?”

Gretchen gave her another once-over. “It’ll have to do.”

A
WEEK LATER
, P
OSEY
was ready to burn down the church with Gretchen inside.

“Seriously? It’s really that bad?” Elise asked on Day Six of the Barefoot Invasion.

“Well, the restaurant’s only open Thursday through Sunday until Memorial Day,” Posey answered. “She has a lot of time on her hands.”

“So what does she do all day?” Mac asked in a rare complete sentence.

“She looks at magazines, takes long showers and makes a big mess in the kitchen. But there’s still never anything to eat.” Posey took a sip of her coffee. “She leaves towels on the bathroom floor, tissues on the coffee table, glasses everywhere. Supposedly, she’s making plans for renovating Guten Tag, but I never see any sketches or anything. Oh, and she’s started calling my parents Mutti and Papa. That might be the last straw.” Especially since Gretchen had reminded Posey—twice—that Stacia was genetically identical to her own mother. As if Posey didn’t know that already.

“Does she, like, know Derek Jeter?” Elise asked. “They lived in the same building? In New York? Susan Lucci, too. I love her? From
All My Children?
”

“According to Gretchen, she knows every celebrity ever born, and they all want to date her.”

“I don’t think I’d want to date a famous person,” Elise said, giving Mac a doe-eyed look. “I’m, like, drawn to the blue-collar type?”

Mac muttered something and fled to the back room.

“Posey, what did you do to that man? Beat him with a stick? He’s like an abused dog.”

Both Posey and Elise turned as Vivian Appleton came in. “Hi, Viv! I was going to pick you up!” Posey said.

“I took a cab. I’m allowed to do that, am I not? The Vultures wouldn’t approve—there go six more dollars of their inheritance, and still I refuse to die. Well. What’s the matter with you, young lady?” She sat in the leather chair next to the front desk and put on her glasses to better stare down Elise.

“That guy? The abused dog, right? Mac. I totally love him,” Elise whispered.

“He’s rather old for you, dear.”

“I don’t even care. From, like, the first day I came in here? I just fell so hard, right? I mean, sometimes you just can’t help it? But he hardly even talks to me?”

“Perhaps it’s because you end all your sentences as a question,” Viv observed.

“Do you think so?” Elise bit her thumbnail.

“No. Don’t bite your nails.” Vivian surveyed the interior of Irreplaceable. “Older, unattractive men are generally good husbands,” she said regally. “The gratitude keeps them in line. Keep trying, my dear. Wear something a bit more form-fitting, too. That looks like it’s made out of a trash bag.”

“Seriously? You think?”

“I’m always serious.”

“You’re like this wise old woman or something?” Elise said. “Oops, I mean, you’re like this wise woman. Not a question, right? Posey, tell her about your cousin! I bet she could totally help you out!”

Posey rolled her eyes and gave Viv the nutshell version.

“You lack gumption,” Vivian pronounced when she was done. “Kick her out. She sounds like a parasite.”

“Right?” Elise said, her mouth half-open in admiration. “I totally agree.”

“It’s not gumption,” Posey said. “It’s my parents. They have this fantasy of Gretchen and me being close as sisters, and they’re thrilled that we’re bonding. Except we’re not. She just lays around like a big blonde slug with giant boobs.”

Vivian snorted. “Yes, she was blessed in that department, as I recall.”

“Don’t tell me you watched her show.”

“Once or twice. Not that I like German food. Does anyone?”

“I do,” Posey said, just in case her mother was lurking. One never knew with Stacia.

“How loyal of you. Are you taking me to lunch or not?”

“I am. Where would you like to go?” she asked.

“To L’Auberge,” Viv answered. “I’m in the mood for French after all this talk of Germany. I lived through that war, you know. Your parents may be nice people, but I will never eat at their restaurant.”

“L’Auberge. Okay.” Posey hesitated. To get there, they’d have to take Route 149, which led right past The Meadows. Did Viv want to see her old home? It might be just the thing for her to see it again, and see how much Posey loved it, too.

“We’ll go the long way,” Vivian said, reading her mind. “It’s a nice day for a drive.”