Caley shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m home and so is Wyatt. What are they doing upstairs?”
“Good question.” Nissa looked up to where the sound of not one, not two, but three male voices echoed down the staircase. “I have a feeling Trevor is visiting.” Only her baby brother could cause that much laughter among men. Well. Two men and a boy. “You okay by yourself—”
“Mo-ooom.” Caley rolled her eyes and stomped into the kitchen.
“Right. Hovering.” Nissa set her bag on the floor and headed upstairs. Halfway up she realized where the voices were coming from. And, given the tightening unease in her chest, what they were doing. Anger percolated over the fear as she pushed open the door to her makeshift office and found Dante, Wyatt, and Trevor hovered around the desktop computer she knew for a fact had still been boxed up this morning. “What do you all think you’re doing?”
“Helping.” Trevor’s droll voice told her he didn’t appreciate having to state the obvious.
Dante and Wyatt had the good sense to push back from the desk and, it seemed, given the way Wyatt scrambled onto Dante’s lap, the two of them had come to an understanding that Dante was definitely not a super villain.
“Hi, Mom! Uncle Trevor needed to borrow a camera.”
“Funny.” Nissa tried not to look admiringly at the neatly filled shelves and stacks of unpacked boxes behind the door. Her meager stock of developing chemicals and equipment had been stashed in the oversized closet for when she hired someone to transform it into an authentic dark room. The gold and burgundy antique rug, one of the few wedding gifts she’d kept in the divorce, felt welcoming against her feet as she walked over to the desk and planted her hands on the edge of the desk. She peered over the top of her oversized computer monitor at her brother. “That doesn’t look like a camera.”
Trevor’s lips twitched as he continued clicking. “Nothing gets by you, sis. Just finishing updating your operating system. Nothing stopping you from getting going again now.” He flicked his gaze up to hers and arched a brow. “Right?”
The anger bubbled over as she glared at Dante. “Let me guess, this is your idea? Your version of confrontation therapy?”
“You want to be ticked off at someone, be mad at me,” Trevor said. “He’s innocent.”
Dante grinned. “First time I’ve ever been called that.” He sat back in his chair and seemed to settle Wyatt more securely as a shield, something Wyatt must have approved of since he crossed his arms over his chest. “How’s Caley?”
She would not be distracted. She would not admit that hearing him ask was enough to melt whatever irritation she felt at having her blatant avoidance of the past challenged. Dammit, did he have to be so charming?
“Caley’s fine. Clean bill of health.”
“Glad to hear it. What confrontation therapy are you in need of?” Trevor continued clacking on the keys without looking at her. “This one won’t say a word about what’s been going on with you, so I guess it’s time to go to the source.” In that instance, for maybe the first time, Nissa realized her baby brother was a baby no more. He was, in fact, a full-grown man with ideas—and plans—of his own. And right now those plans seemed fixed on her. “Or I can call mom and have her come by for an evaluation.”
“You’re bluffing,” Nissa countered even as a new terror grabbed hold. The last thing she needed was her mother hovering…oh. Wow. She’d gone and become her mother, hadn’t she? “Not even you would—”
“Try me.” The snap in Trevor’s voice drew her to attention.
“Wyatt, would you go see what your sister is up to, please?” Nissa asked.
“That means she wants me out of the room,” Wyatt looked over his shoulder at Dante and heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I think you’re in trouble.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Dante said as Wyatt scrambled off his lap.
“Hey.” She caught Wyatt by the shoulder as he passed and knocked his chin up with her finger. “No cookies. They’re for dessert, okay?”
“Fine. Hey, Mom?” He crooked an adorable index finger at her and she bent down. “Dante isn’t Thanos. He read me Harry Potter.”
“Thanks for the info.” She kissed his forehead and shooed him out of the room. Then closed the door. “What part of my office do you not understand? Criminy, Trevor, it’s like we’re kids again and you can’t stay out of my room!”
“Old habits. But I do need a camera.” Trevor got up from the desk and waved Dante over. “Your turn.”
“Thanks.” Without hesitation, or approval from Nissa, he scooted in and pulled out a flash drive from his pocket. “Thought I’d install a virus screening program for you. State of the art. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Funny, doesn’t really feel like I have a choice.”
“Chill out, Nis. Unless you want to fill me in on what happened on that last trip of yours?”
“None of your business.” Her entire body had gone tighter than an overstressed rubber band. She was doing just fine; hadn’t had a twinge of panic in days, probably because she hadn’t let herself think of anything other than Caley and getting her and Wyatt settled in St. Helena. The only “issue” she’d had was the conversation she’d had with Lance the day after she brought the kids home. His supposed apology and explanation had effectively thrown Arabella under the bus…and then backed up and rolled over her again. “It’s none of anyone’s business.”
“It is if it’s stopping you from getting on with your career. You do realize we aren’t stupid, right? We know something’s wrong.” Trevor followed her over to the archive boxes that were now chronologically arranged on the long shelves across the room.
“I appreciate where you’re coming from, but I’m handling it.” For now anyway. Thanks to Dante. Talking to him the other day had helped, as if she’d broken through whatever was keeping her from moving forward with her life.
“We’ll see if you’re still handling it once Quaid’s home.”
Joy and relief surged through her. “He’s coming home? For how long?”
“For good. Honorable discharge and everything,” Trevor added with a low chuckle. As if Quaid was anything other than honorable. Their older brother had practically been born with medals on his chest.
“He’s going to need a place to stay. I can move the last of the boxes out of the guest room.”
“Mom convinced him to stay in their guest house for a while. If he can deal with Clooney and his ladies.”
“Clooney?” Dante asked. “Is that another brother?”
“Clooney is a rooster,” Nissa explained around the laughter. “And his ladies are growing by the season. I think Mom’s up to seventeen now? All named after famous movie stars.”
“Lucky Clooney.” Dante nodded his approval.
“About that camera?” Trevor asked. “I was thinking about the one you took to South America. Seems to me I remember it’s your favorite for close-ups.”
Nissa swallowed the momentary panic. He didn’t realize what he was asking and she certainly wasn’t going to give him new ammunition to increase his suspicions. “It’s buried in my bedroom closet somewhere,” she managed. “It got…damaged. Here.” She dragged a box labeled “equipment” off the shelf and popped open the lid. “Any of these will work. Digital, right?”
“You’re welcome to decide if you take them yourself.” Trevor said with far too much innocence in his eyes.
“How about I go down and get lunch all set up in the back yard?” Dante asked. “This program has to run for a while.”
“Sure, okay.” Nissa’s hands barely shook as she reached for her old Olympus. “You’ll use digital.”
*
Dante closed the office door behind him and, after listening to the dulcet sibling arguing tones from downstairs, he headed into Nissa’s bedroom and beelined for her closet. He hadn’t lied. Exactly. He had installed an anti-virus and Malware program on her desktop, but the camouflage program was also duplicating her hard drive
. He sensed a long night and a number of beers ahead but hopefully by this time tomorrow, he’d have those photos in his possession.
Unless his gut was right and he’d find nothing. Because the camera—and its data card—had never been downloaded.
“Dammit.” Dante stared into her closet. This was where Nissa’s organizational tendencies came to die. Umpteen un-labeled boxes were stacked on the floor and lined up on the top shelf while her clothing hung askew from the rod. He needed more time. Preferably alone.
No use in wasting time and risking getting caught—not that he couldn’t come up with some excuse as to why he’d been snooping in Nissa’s closet. He closed the doors and headed downstairs, where he found Wyatt playing with his action figures in the living room and Caley…
Caley was curled up in the bay window of the breakfast nook, looking outside as if the weight of the world had settled on her very small shoulders.
“Your mom says you’re all better.” Dante stood in the kitchen archway.
“Uh-huh.” Caley nodded, but just like her mother and brother, she bit her lip in that telltale way that told him she was uneasy about something.
“I bet that was scary, feeling so bad so fast. I can’t imagine having an allergy like that, where something I might inadvertently eat or drink lands me in the hospital.” He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a selection of sodas to set next to the sandwiches and snacks.
“Uh-huh.” She’d ducked her head and was picking at the soles of her sneakers. “I wasn’t too sick, though. The doctor said it could have been worse.”
“Thank goodness it wasn’t. Would you like something to drink?”
Caley looked over at him. “Orange soda, please.”
“You’ve got it.” He popped it open and brought it over to her, angled his head in a way that she couldn’t quite escape his gaze. “Everything okay?”
She shrugged and slurped.
“You know, I had a long talk with Arabella at the hospital the other night. She was really upset about what happened.” He leaned against the wall and gazed outside. “She was also really, scared she’d hurt you. She likes you and Wyatt a lot.”
“She’s nice.” Caley whispered. “You won’t tell my mom I said that will you?” She turned pleading eyes on him and Dante shifted under the trust she pushed on him. “I don’t think she likes Arabella.”
“She told you that?”
Caley shook her head. “She just gets real quiet whenever me or Wyatt talk about her.”
“I don’t think that means she doesn’t like her. She just doesn’t know her the way you two do. I think it’s okay if you like Arabella, Caley. In fact, I think your mom would prefer you to. Especially if you’re going to spend more time at your dad’s.”
Tears pooled in the little girl’s eyes. “I don’t want to stay at Dad’s anymore. Is that wrong?” When she inched up her chin, the tears spilled onto her cheeks. “He’s my dad. I’m supposed to like him.”
For an instant, Dante was transported back to his own room decades before, where he sat and asked his mom if it was okay that he didn’t like his father. That he didn’t want him to come back. Ever. Guilt and grief pushed in on him as he sat down next to Caley and dropped a hand on the top of one of her shoes. “You want to know a secret?”
She nodded and her shiny hair glistened in the afternoon sun.
“I don’t like my father either.”
Her eyes went wide. “You don’t?”
“Not even a little bit. But I’ll tell you what my mom told me. It’s okay to love him because he’s your dad. But that doesn’t mean you have to like him. We don’t have to like anyone, Caley. That doesn’t make you a bad person and it doesn’t make you wrong. You get to feel however you want to feel about someone. Even your father.”
“It feels wrong.”
“I know.” How well he knew. “I bet you would do just about anything not to have to stay with him longer than necessary, huh? Is that why you made yourself sick? So you’d have to come home?”
Caley’s chin wobbled. “You know?”
“That you fixed your own soy smoothie? I suspected.” Dante squeezed her foot. “Something Arabella said. You’d never asked for that before.”
“I hate smoothies,” Caley admitted. “But I couldn’t think of another way—”
“To drink the soy milk without giving away your secret plan.” If these were the plans she had at seven, he didn’t envy Nissa dealing with a teenage Caley. “You know what you did was dangerous, don’t you?”
“Yeah. But it worked.”
“That doesn’t make it right. Did Wyatt know?”
“No! He can’t keep a secret at all! He’d have told everyone!”
Another theory proven. “But you scared him even more than Arabella.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“I know. That’s why they call it collateral damage, Caley. Those unintended consequences and it usually ends up hurting someone else. Even if our intentions are good, someone can always pay the price and it’s usually not us.”
“Are you going to tell my mom?”
“No, I’m not.” He leaned over to catch her gaze. “You’re going to.”
“I am?” She didn’t look as if she believed him. “But she’s going to be so mad.”
“Maybe. But she won’t stay mad. You can’t lie to her, Caley. Especially about something this important. And it’s not fair to let her think Arabella is responsible for something you did. I also want you to promise me something.”
“What?”
How could he adore the skepticism he saw in the young girl’s eyes? “I want you to promise me you’ll never do anything like that again. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse than it was. You’re lucky you didn’t really hurt yourself.”
“I promise.”
“I take promises very seriously. When I make one, when someone makes one to me, there’s no going back. You keep that promise no matter what. You understand?”
“Yes.”
“You feel better now?”
She nodded and before he realized what she was doing, she threw herself into his arms. “I’m sorry, Dante. I won’t do it again, I promise.” She sobbed against his neck, her tears hot against his skin. For a moment, he froze, unable to think what to do, his hands sticking out in the air. No, no, no. He couldn’t be doing this. Couldn’t be letting this girl in along with her beautiful mother and amazing kid brother. Except he was too late. She was already lodged in his heart. So he wrapped his arms around her.
And held on.
*
“You have got to be kidding me.” Nissa sagged against the wall outside the kitchen, a hand pressed against her chest as she listened to Dante and Caley’s conversation. Her brother stood beside her, looking as shell-shocked as she felt. “This cannot be happening.”
“You’re surprised Caley poisoned herself?”
“Oh, no, that I believe,” Nissa managed a weak laugh. In fact, that actually made her feel better…and worse given how she’d treated Arabella. Caley was right. She was mad about that mainly because it proved what she already knew in her gut: her kids didn’t belong with Lance. Which meant she was going to have to gear up for a fight. “Dante cannot be this good with my kids.” She had no trouble believing Dante could charm her out of her…shoes, but seeing him interact with Wyatt and now Caley, hearing how calm and understanding and rational he was with her given what her daughter had done? “No man is this perfect.”
“I think I’m offended,” Trevor muttered. “He’s really everything Lance never was.”
“Lance couldn’t spit-shine Dante’s shoes.” But she’d love to see her ex-husband try. She swiped her fingers under her eyes and stood up straight. “Okay, we didn’t hear a thing, right? We know nothing.”
“No problem. I rarely know anything of what’s going on.”
She glanced at her brother in time to catch the disappointment on his face. Dante was right. She should have talked to her family;
should have asked them for help. “I’ll talk about it soon. With all of you,” she insisted. “Let me get Caley and Wyatt situated in school and their routine down and we’ll all sit down and—”
“That’s enough.” Trevor grabbed her hand and squeezed. “It’s okay, Nissa. That’s enough for now.”
She let out a long breath and as she did so, for the first time in over two months, the world righted itself. Everything was going to be fine. She glanced back into the kitchen. Maybe even with Dante. And for that, she couldn’t be more excited. Or terrified. “I’m starved.” She squeezed back. “Let’s eat.”
Chapter Nine
“Where is everyone?” When Dante stepped inside Beatha for the second time, the entire restaurant was empty. The afternoon had passed in a bit of a daze after lunch, with both kids clinging to him while Nissa spent a surprising amount of time in her office before coming back downstairs to announce their dinner plans. He’d been so distracted by the perfect excuse to return to his hotel room to change and check Nissa’s hard drive for any photographs downloaded to her system in the last three months that he hadn’t paid attention to the details of said meal. He also hadn’t found a trace of pictures remotely connected to her excursion to South America which meant he was back to square one…and only one place left to look.
Beatha wasn’t a restaurant that was meant for quiet. With its rich polished woods and brass and glimmering glass detail, it demanded attention. And noise. Personally, he preferred the cacophonous atmosphere of the pseudo Irish pub, where conversations could be hidden or non-existent, depending on the mood. What was the same as his first time here, however, was the tantalizing aroma of roasting meat, fresh baked bread, and the promise of a good ale.
Clanging and banging and few raised voices erupted from the kitchen, instantly correcting his belief they were alone. Caley and Wyatt scrambled around the tables into the back office while Nissa stepped in front of him, the delicate yellow summer dress she wore swirling around her bare legs. He jolted as she smoothed her palms down the front of his suit jacket, she patted his chest and straightened his tie. The ordinary action felt inordinately intimate and as he looked into her glimmering, happy face, his entire core quaked.
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