by Edie Ramer
Then he was off and running before she had a chance to say anything. Not even, “Watch out for the dog.”
He was almost at the driveway when the barking started. Loud barking for a big dog.
The next second, Abby had a chance to admire his agility as he turned and ran as if Cerberus, Hades’ watchdog, was snapping at his feet.
She was on the driveway as he ran up, shouting, “Get in the car! Get in the car!”
Ignoring him, she held out her hand. “Treat! Loki, come and get your treat!”
As Ryan rushed around the rear of the car, she threw half an energy bar as far as she could away from Ryan. Its mouth slavering, Loki changed course and chased after the treat.
“Get in,” Ryan yelled as Loki found the treat and gobbled it up in a half second. “Get in while you can.”
She ignored him again, crouching to catch the dog racing toward her. His slobbery tongue swiped her cheek, dripping saliva down her face and onto her top. Murmuring that he was her sweetheart, she hugged him and kissed his sagging jowls while he whined as if he was in ecstasy.
“Abby? Is that you?” Sam called from across the way.
She let the dog lick her mouth one more time before she stood, wiped her mouth with her sleeve, and threw the other half of the bar toward the house.
“Sorry for bothering you!” she called, seeing a tall, slender woman in the driveway, just at the edge of the light. “We’re leaving now. Will you call Loki so we won’t run him over?”
Sam shouted Loki’s name, but he stayed another minute while Abby got into the car, finally leaving when she closed the door, and he was sure there would be no more treats. Only then did he gallop back to his mistress.
As Ryan steered slowly down the driveway, Abby said, “I bet that got your blood pumping.”
“Not the way I was hoping to get it pumping,” he said, but it was a throwaway line, his voice distracted, and she could tell he was thinking of something else.
A Michael Buble song came on the radio, and she sat back to listen, her mind drifting. Every day for her was full, but this was over-full. From purring cats to a slobbery dog, from one tamped-down brother to his too-loose brother. With a little girl who needed all the love Abby had to give, and yet she seemed to have some left over. Or at least something in a similar category to love, and she wanted to give it to the wrong man.
This was so...messed up. She needed to stop this.
One week and one day, and she would no longer see Holden. After next week was over, he wouldn’t need her anymore. The sooner she stopped seeing him, the sooner she would stop wanting him.
“Your partner, Sam,” Ryan said, “she’s gay, right?”
“Excuse me? What about it?”
“No need to bristle. Just asking.”
“And I’m not answering. It’s none of your business.”
He glanced away, his mouth flat. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“An old girlfriend?” she asked.
“Something like that.”
A cold feeling stole over her. It was cooler out now, and she wrapped her arms around herself. If she were Minnie, the fur on her spine would be raised, and she’d be watching out for trouble.
But she didn’t have to look far. She suspected trouble was sitting right next to her, asking her out tomorrow night.
And she was saying, “Yes.”
13
Ryan prowled Holden’s office, reminding Holden of Abby’s Quigley, the black one that didn’t seem as smart as the older Minnie, who appeared to run the animal population of Abby’s house. Even Abby and Grace seemed to understand her mews and jumped to accommodate her like well-trained staff.
Abby.
He couldn’t get her out of his mind. Over the weekend, he’d been shutting down thoughts of her, but it was like chopping off a weed only to see another take its place. Now it was Monday; one more week where he had to see her twice every day.
One more week before he would return Cara to her grandparents. A thought that chilled him to his marrow.
“The meeting this afternoon.” Ryan stopped in front of Holden’s desk. “What’s it about?”
“A new line of furniture.” He held up his hand. He’d brought his sketches to their designer first thing Friday morning. “Suzie’s working on it. We’re going to use metal with some of the designs, or else wood with a metallic look. It will combine contemporary with traditional. We’ll have to get an estimate of the costs before we make the final decisions. We’d like to start a couple key pieces in a month then see what kind of response we get. If it’s positive, we’ll go with the line.”
“You didn’t mention it to me.”
“I’m mentioning it now. It’s just going to be me, you, and Suzie.” He studied Ryan’s face—the slight frown, the lips curved in a dissatisfied downturn. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be all over this.”
“It’s not that. I have something else on my mind. Aunt Daisy fixed me up with someone on Thursday.”
“You’ve seen her since?” Holden asked, grateful for the distraction from his thoughts.
“Yes. It’s not serious. Turned out we already knew each other. But she’s...interesting. And enlightening. And memorable. And something happened Thursday night that I’ve been thinking about ever since.”
“That’s four days of thinking. Your brain hurt from all that heavy work?”
“Real funny.” Ryan shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “Actually, I’m thinking about a business opportunity, too. A new line that will fit in with what we have. Something different.”
Holden sat back in his chair, his eyebrows up in a question mark. “Something you’re creating?”
“Not me. I’m a people person.” Ryan slouched onto the black leather chair in front of the desk. “The only creative thing I do is when I’m making love to a woman.”
“Funny, the only one who’s told me how good you are in bed is you.”
“You’re the funny one. There are legions of women who will praise my prowess in bed.”
“Hidden legions. Does your new woman agree?”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “Not yet. We’re taking it slow. Slow is always better than fast. You and Portia probably know all about that.”
Holden stiffened. “Leave Portia out of this discussion.”
“You sure? You might learn something.”
“Sure enough to throw you out if you keep it up.”
Ryan snorted. “You wouldn’t do that. It would cause too much gossip.” He held up his hand. “But if it bothers you so much, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Let’s go back to the furniture.”
“Okay.” Holden sat back. “Talk.”
“It’s not the usual type of furniture.”
“Different and unusual.” A suspicion grew in Holden’s mind. A foreboding. The way he’d felt driving last month when dark, mushroom clouds covered the sun, and the sky rumbled, then lightning flashed in the sky, taking out half the city’s electricity for eight hours. “How different and unusual? What kind of furniture?”
Ryan thrummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “I’m getting the idea you won’t be surprised at my answer.”
“Then tell me what it is.”
Ryan’s eyebrows contracted. “Cat furniture. But you knew that.”
“And the old girlfriend you dated?” Holden heard the hardness of his voice, but he didn’t feel hard. He felt numb, his emotions frozen. As if he knew what Ryan was going to say.
“Abby Pimm.” Ryan’s stare dared him to object.
“I wouldn’t think you two were compatible.”
“She’s attractive, single, fun, smart, and talented. What’s not to like?”
“You,” Holden said.
Ryan howled with laughter. Holden’s phone rang, and he picked it up, turning his head to hear his assistant over Ryan’s loud cackles.
“Is everything all right?” Sherry asked. “There’s a lot of noise coming from your office.”
�
�I’m okay. Not sure about my idiot brother.”
“I grew up with five of the beasts. Ignore them, and they’ll eventually slink away.”
She hung up before Holden could offer his condolences. Ryan was running down now, his guffaws turned into chuckles. His eyes bright, he leaned forward, ready to sell his idea.
“Look, you’re worried we may have to lay off workers in the future. Didn’t Grandma always tell us not to put all our eggs in one basket?”
“You know what Grandma would say about cat furniture.”
“She liked cats.”
“Because they killed mice. Everything in her life had to have a purpose.”
Ryan’s expression sobered. “You should watch out. You’re becoming a lot like her.”
Holden narrowed his eyes at his brother. “I’m not in a rut. I came up with the idea for the new line.”
“Right. One line. Why just one? You’re thinking small. Why not expand?”
“We’re one of the most successful furniture manufacturers in the US. If Eagleton Furniture made cat furniture, people would laugh at us.”
“As long as it pays off, why the hell should we care who laughs?”
Holden didn’t reply right away. Laughter seemed like it was a long distance away from him, especially when he thought of Ryan and Abby together.
He ignored the twist in his belly. Ryan deserved to be happy, and Abby certainly did. Because of her, Cara was almost like other little girls. Even now, he still had to remember to speak softly when he was with Cara. If he used his normal curt voice, she shrank away from him, as if afraid of what he might do to her. But before Abby, Cara had been afraid to even look at him. He owed her for that.
A rock settled in his belly. He reminded himself that when Juliana’s parents picked Cara up, she’d leave with memories she could cherish.
The reminder didn’t make the rock go away; didn’t even make it shrink.
“Tell me your idea,” he said.
Ryan jumped up. “Abby and her partner have a backlog of orders, and they can’t keep up. They only have one website, but they offer an associate’s fee to other sites that send buyers to their site.”
“So they get other sites to do the advertising for them. We do that, too.”
“They have other ideas, but they can’t implement them because of the production problem. They don’t have a decent plant, just the barn workshop. Twice, they’ve been at the point where they were ready to invest in their own place. And each time, something happened that set them back financially. Meanwhile, other places are copying their cat furniture—” He stopped and shrugged. “You know the drill. The same way our designs are being copied.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“It sure the hell feels like it to them. Do you know how much Americans spent last year on their pets? Fifty-two billion. Most of it’s on food and vet bills, but there’s a market for this—a big one. And this is just the beginning. It’s going to get bigger, and Eagleton Furniture can lead the way. We can be at the forefront. The leaders.”
A buzz started in Holden’s ears. “Are you saying we should buy the company from Abby and Sam then manufacture and sell their products? You really think Abby would say yes to that?”
Ryan grunted out a laugh. “No way in hell.”
“That’s what I thought. What do you think we should do?”
“Be partners in her business.”
“You think she’ll agree to that?”
The humor left Ryan’s face, leaving it dead serious, for a second reminding Holden of their grandfather. “I think she has no choice.”
“In that case, I’ll say no.”
“But, Holden—”
“Do you really want to put Abby in a position where she has to agree? When there’s no other choice?”
“Not normally. But we’ll do a better job with the products than they can. This is for her own good.”
Holden groaned at Ryan, feeling a deep disappointment. “It’s a funny thing. Almost every time someone says they’re doing something for someone else’s good, it’s something that will benefit them.”
Ryan’s eyebrows slashed together. “We’ll be taking a chance on her. We might not make any money from this.”
“You’re right, we won’t make any money. Because we’re not going to do it.”
The muscles on Ryan’s face tightened, and his blue eyes flashed, the way they had when they were kids—just before he attacked Holden with flying fists and kicking feet, enraged because he wasn’t getting his way.
Holden held Ryan’s gaze, not giving in. Slowly the tension eased from Ryan’s shoulders. “I guess you’re right. As usual.” His tone sharpened with bitterness. “That must make you feel good.”
“Not really. There might be more than one way to help her.”
“Give her money?” Ryan sneered. “Don’t you always say not to give your friends money if you want them to stay friends?”
“That’s not what I meant.” An idea had formed in Holden’s mind, but he wasn’t telling Ryan. He wanted Ryan to think about it and get the idea himself. It would be the only way he’d feel good about it.
But Ryan scowled and stomped to the door. As he reached it, he snapped around. “Have you seen Portia lately?”
Holden watched Ryan through narrowed eyes. Thanks to their upbringing, Ryan had two sides. The fun-loving Ryan, and the angry, resentful Ryan.
The angry Ryan didn’t pop up often, but when it did, he could turn nasty.
“We had dinner on Saturday evening. We’ve both been busy and haven’t had a chance to get together.”
“Do you know what she’s been busy doing?”
The hairs on the back of Holden’s neck rose. “What do you mean?”
Ryan’s mouth twisted in a smirk. “You like to give me advice. Fine, here’s my advice back. Find out what your fiancée’s doing.”
Holden stared at him, not replying.
“That’s all I have to say.” Ryan whipped around and left, the door slamming behind him.
For seconds, Holden gazed at the closed door. Then, his movements stiff, he picked up his cell phone and pressed on a name, putting it to his ear instead of using the speakerphone.
The phone buzzed twice before Portia answered. She sounded the same as usual. No lilt in her voice or nervousness. Just her calm, smooth voice.
Eight days ago, he’d been pleased with their relationship, satisfied with their common goals and common sense.
That was before Cara. Before Abby. The last eight days had changed him—and he didn’t know if it was good or bad.
“Are you busy tonight?” he asked. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”
“Um...” Portia’s usually firm voice was hesitant. “I can leave early tonight. About seven? My place?”
“I’ll have Cara tonight.”
“Of course. I forgot. Your place is fine. I never did get a chance to meet Cara. I’ll be there at seven.”
“On second thought,” he said, “I’ll see if I can ask Abby to take care of her a little longer tonight. If there’s a problem, I’ll call. Otherwise, plan on me being there at seven.”
They hung up, and he swiveled to frown at the blue sky outside his window. Portia had hesitated before accepting his invitation. Normally he wouldn’t question her delay, but now he wondered why.
He picked up the phone to call the firm his company had used in the past to investigate background checks and items missing from the warehouse. But before the first ring started, he stopped the call.
Tonight he would ask Portia what was wrong. She would undoubtedly tell him, and everything would be fine.
Until then, he had one more call to make.
14
The phone’s ring jerked Minnie awake from her nap on Mom’s bed. She settled back down to sleep. Humans spent too much time talking to the phone. She wasn’t quite asleep when another noise came to her ears. A fast padding of cat feet. She opened her eyes in time to see a
black streak leaping through the air toward her. Quigley.
She didn’t flinch. He wouldn’t dare land on her.
He landed in front of her. Did you hear the phone? It was Ryan. He’s not coming tonight.
Good. He’s like the water. Mom is like the sun. She would go better with the earth than the water.
How can we find a man like the earth?
Holden is the earth.
I know that. Quigley nipped at the base of his tail before whipping his head back to Minnie. But he has another woman. I heard Mom tell Grace. Quigley’s voice rose, excitement in it. I know what we can do. We can scratch him and bite him and make him fall and hurt himself, and he’ll have to stay here with Mom.
If you bite him, he won’t fall. He’ll take Cara away and won’t bring her back. Humans don’t like being bitten.
Quigley jumped off the bed and ran out of the room. Minnie waited. In seconds, he flashed back into the bedroom, his fur ruffled. Then you think of something better.
Minnie stretched. Her body was older than his, but she was still in her peak. I know what we can do.
What?
The phone rang again. Her ears perked up, and she ran to the kitchen.
Because she didn’t like her idea. Thinking of it made her feel funny inside. It could hurt her. It could kill her. She would only do it for the love of Mom.
She would wait to see if the humans would fix everything so she wouldn’t have to do it.
***
One damn brother after another, Abby thought, picking up the phone in the kitchen. When Holden spoke, his voice was like dark chocolate. The kind that was a little nutty, a little rough-edged, which was strange, as he was so reined in. Strange because Ryan’s was smooth, and he wasn’t reined in at all. Every night, she’d had to warn Ryan to pull it back. She wasn’t jumping in bed with him.
Or the back of the car.
Or her couch.
Or any other surface.
She suspected the challenge to make her say yes had kept him coming back.
But after tonight’s abrupt phone cancellation, it appeared he’d tired of the challenge. He’d given up and was going after easier conquests.
