Once Upon a Friendship

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “I’m here to help you collect information that could impact the potential charges against your father and thus might affect you,” she told him. “Your personal business is your own.”

  Yes. But he didn’t want it to be. He wanted her to share it with him. All of it. Down to the soap he used in the shower.

  The thought brought him up short. And, though he wasn’t proud of himself, he did what guys sometimes did. He went on the attack.

  “Why don’t you date?” he asked her.

  “Funny question from a ladies’ man who hasn’t been on a date in weeks.”

  “I just broke up with Jenna.” And she knew why he had.

  “I’d expect you to be playing the entire field at this point. You used to flirt all the time when you were out with Marie and me.”

  His past behavior had earned him the comment.

  “Jenna would be humiliated if I started being seen with other women so soon after dumping her.”

  Even though, on that last night, she’d begged him to break up with her. She’d met someone else. Someone she was in love with. She was just waiting the appropriate amount of time before she started seeing him publicly.

  “Anyway, quit trying to divert a question by putting it back on me, counselor. My love life has nothing to do with the fact that you haven’t been out in more than a year.” If she’d just hurry up and get herself hitched, it would decimate this growing threat that he might screw everything up between them due to his sudden feeling that she was the only woman alive.

  “It’s been about two months.” Her dry reply didn’t thrill him.

  “Two months? Who did you go out with? I didn’t know about it.” And now he was jealous?

  “You don’t know a lot of things about me, Connelly,” she said, her words softened by the grin she gave him. “He was a cop. A detective. I met him in court. We went out a few times.”

  “But it didn’t work out.” Too bad.

  “He wanted to get serious, and I’m serious about my work.”

  She hadn’t been in love with the guy. Just like she hadn’t loved any of the other men she’d dated since he’d known her. The thought gave him an odd sense of security.

  Because she was a good woman. Honest, morally upright. The kind a man could count on to be true to him. The kind he’d want to take home to his parents. To raise his family.

  His thoughts were off-the-wall. Out there. Aged. Chauvinistic. Because in reality, there was no hint of old-fashioned family values in his life. He was plagued with the surreal knowledge that at eight o’clock the next morning, he was going to meet his sister. After thirty years of thinking himself an only child, born to parents who’d loved and been faithful to each other. Putting up with his father’s harsh, autocratic ways had been bearable because he’d been so certain that, at heart, his father was a good man who loved him.

  And had adored his mother. A man his mother had adored. Enough to give him a second chance when he’d gambled away his fortune.

  Whatever. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He was a grown man with his own life. It was up to him what he made of it. And it was time to get on with doing it.

  * * *

  GABRIELLE HAD GIVEN Missy their itinerary. They knew where they were staying. Missy had chosen the restaurant for their initial meeting Saturday morning.

  The plan was to have breakfast and then go on to Missy’s to sort through Walter’s files. Liam could keep them or dispose of them. Missy just wanted them out of her house.

  If all went well with the meeting between Liam and Tamara, they’d spend Saturday evening together before Gabrielle and Liam’s flight back to Denver Sunday morning.

  Sitting next to Liam in the middle seat of a fairly empty plane to Florida, Gabrielle concentrated on the details of their trip. Doing a mental rundown of times. Locations. Goals.

  A pretty young flight attendant stopped beside his aisle seat, asking if they wanted anything. He ordered them each a coffee and Gabrielle faltered. His arm was up against hers. Brushed hers as he placed her steaming-hot cup on the tray table she’d lowered from the seat back in front of her.

  Giving the impression that they were together. As in together together.

  The waitress smiled at him as he thanked her. And his eyes lingered on her as she passed on up the aisle.

  Did she notice?

  Gabrielle felt like secondhand goods for the brief instant it took her to remember that Liam was free to exchange glances—and phone numbers and anything else he wanted to exchange—with anyone he wanted.

  No matter how it might look, they were most definitely not together together. Nor would they be. Even if he fell in love with her, it wouldn’t work. His flirting with the flight attendant was a perfect reminder of that. And she wasn’t the type of woman who dated casually. Which was why she didn’t date much.

  If she and Liam were ever to have a personal, intimate, together together relationship and it ended, her heart would be irrevocably broken. Things would never be the same between them again. Marie knew it. And so did she.

  They were Threefold. A family. If something went wrong between Liam and Gabrielle, Marie, who loved them both, would be caught in the middle. She’d suffer right along with them. She’d eventually have to choose, and based on Marie’s difficulty in trusting men, she’d choose Gabrielle.

  Which wasn’t fair, either.

  Bottom line was, she and Marie needed Liam too much to risk losing him. And he needed them, too.

  For the next several minutes, as Liam’s arm touched hers and sent little shivers of awareness through her, Gabrielle tried to concentrate on the pretty attendant parading up and down the aisle, smiling as she passed. Noticed the way Liam’s gaze had followed her again. And told herself, quite strongly, that she wouldn’t ever, ever want to be his woman. And when he leaned over and spoke to her, his breath on her neck urging her to turn her head to taste his lips, she forced herself to remember the things he’d said during late-night talks in their college years, about being attracted to other women while he was in a relationship.

  If he was hers, and looked at another woman like he’d just looked at the attendant...she’d never be comfortable around him again.

  So...maybe right now, dodging her burgeoning feelings for him was hard.

  Losing him as a member of their family would be hardest of all.

  * * *

  “LIAM?” THE VOICE was soft. Hesitant. He heard it, but it didn’t register immediately. He and Gabrielle were standing, arm to arm, at the baggage claim carousel. Glued to each other’s sides so they didn’t get lost in the busy Florida airport. He knew for certain she hadn’t said a word.

  Fact was, she hadn’t said much to him at all since shortly after takeoff. She’d said she was concentrating on the papers in front of her. Knowing her as he did, he didn’t question the statement a bit—at first. But when he noticed her staring at a page—a biographical report on Donaldson’s real estate deal gone bad—so long he’d practically had it memorized himself, he knew that she wasn’t working.

  “Liam?”

  The voice came again. Gabrielle spun around, looking just over his shoulder.

  “Oh!” Her mouth formed a circle with the word. She turned toward him, glanced at his face, and then behind him again.

  “It’s Tamara...”

  The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He felt as though spiders were crawling up his spine.

  Turning so quickly the long black trench coat over his arm tangled between the legs of his suit pants, Liam pasted a smile on his face.

  Whatever his feelings about the girl’s conception might be, she was not going to pay for his father’s sins where he was concerned...

  He saw her and lost his breath.

  Her eyes...looking into them was like looking into a mi
rror. The doubt there—he could read it as clearly as he’d grown up reading his own. Was he wanted? Was he good enough?

  Their father had a lot to answer for.

  A slender redheaded woman stood behind the girl. She moved forward, as though to protect her. Liam didn’t give her a direct glance.

  “Tamara?” he said, his smile growing so much that it hurt his face. “Oh, my God, look at you!” he said, holding out his arms to her. “You’re beautiful.”

  She was a baby. A child. A young woman. His little sister. And when she flung herself into his arms, he grabbed her and hung on for dear life.

  * * *

  GABRIELLE WAS UP two hours before she was due to meet Liam to head out for breakfast the following morning. Their rooms weren’t adjoined in the high-rise beach hotel where they were staying. She hadn’t spoken to him since they’d said goodnight outside the elevator the night before.

  But she’d been thinking about him nonstop. She’d asked if he wanted a snack or a cup of coffee before they’d turned in. If he wanted to sit and chat for a while. She was a bit nervous doing so without Marie, but, after her talk with herself on the plane, she felt a little more confident that she’d stay on the right path.

  And she could always text Marie if she decided she couldn’t trust herself.

  Still, disappointment had flooded her when he’d shaken his head and said he just wanted to head to their rooms. The emptiness he had left behind kept her up much of a night that she should have spent resting.

  She’d finally called Marie. Who’d strengthened her resolve to keep things on a friends-only basis with Liam. She’d told her to be ready in case Liam tried to change things.

  Which sent Gabrielle into another tizzy. Was it possible Liam really did return her feelings? Was he finding her attractive, too? Looking at her in new ways?

  At which point Marie had come down uncharacteristically hard on her. Reminding her that going into a tizzy was not the way to stay strong and follow through on her decisions.

  And Gabrielle had asked, “If Liam were different, if he was a one-woman type of guy and could have made one of us happy, do you think he would have split us up?”

  “No. If he was that type of guy, and one of us was the one for him, he’d have expressed that interest and the other one of us would have supported that choice.”

  Gabrielle had thought so, too, but... “So, if things had been different and he chose me?”

  “I’d have been fine with it, Gabi.”

  “You’ve never had any of those kinds of feelings for him?”

  “Never. I go for tall guys, you know that. Crazy, since I’m the short one. But there you have it.”

  Gabi had had a sudden flash of Marie telling them what “Elliott” had said that first night she’d met him. And knew that the bodyguard had been spending some time in her shop over the past week, since the threatening letter had arrived, rather than just outside in his car. Marie had mentioned him in passing more than once.

  Could it be that her friend was falling for someone? That maybe she’d finally met a man who could get past the barricade around her heart?

  She’d been about to broach the subject, but Marie had wanted to know everything about Liam’s sister. About the surprise meeting.

  Gabrielle hadn’t had a lot to tell her because the moment had lasted all of five minutes—just long enough for the two to meet and say hello so, Missy had explained, Tamara would calm down and get some sleep. Marie had had to go then. She’d only had a few hours to sleep before getting up to meet Grace downstairs, to bag and tag the baked goods the older woman made every morning before opening the shop. Certainly not enough time to deal with Gabrielle bringing up the tough subject of Marie’s love life.

  Saturday morning, after showering and dressing in the light-colored linen pants and tailored button-down short-sleeve top she’d brought, Gabrielle slipped into a pair of low-heeled pumps, fluffed and sprayed her short black hair, put on some makeup, and delivered herself to her laptop. She’d spent part of the night going over files in the Connelly case, specifically the files Gwen Menard and her team had compiled on the five top-floor executives Walter Connelly had told them about—people with the security clearance to have run a Ponzi scheme with Connelly funds.

  She was so focused that she jumped when Liam’s knock sounded on her door. She’d actually lost track of time. And lost the opportunity to stress anymore about the upcoming day.

  Liam would get through it just fine. She’d advise him where his father’s papers were concerned. And then they’d head home. Back to Marie. Their apartment building. Normalcy. Back to Liam confiding in both of them. And Chinese takeout for three.

  The thought was completely obliterated by the warm smile he gave her as she opened her door to him. But she gathered it back around her as quickly as she could, shrouding herself in determination as she locked her door and let him slide his arm through hers as they headed down the hall. If Marie had been there, he’d have joined his other arm with hers.

  Like he had for college graduation pictures, her law school graduation, and when he’d taken them both to a charity event before the holidays.

  Liam was facing what had to be the hardest time of his life. He needed her and Marie more now than ever. Marie wasn’t there to do her part.

  So Gabrielle was going to have to do it for both of them.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  LIAM DIDN’T UNDERSTAND how it was possible to feel so fiercely protective and to love someone so completely in such a short space of time, but by the time he and Gabrielle had finished breakfast with Tamara and her mother, he knew his little sister was going to have a place in his heart—and his life—forever.

  She’d wanted to ride with them in the car he’d rented the night before for the short trip from the restaurant to her home—saying she could direct them if they got separated from Missy in traffic—and he was glad to have her there. Glad, too, that she’d chattered the whole way about the places they were passing—regaling him with her memories of having grown up in the Florida suburb—showing him a life that was at once completely different from his and relatively happy as well.

  “She’s a great kid,” he said to Gabrielle as they stood together in the third bedroom—which served as a sewing room, with Walter’s desk and a filing cabinet on one end—in the small beach cottage his father had bought for his mistress and their daughter. Tamara had gone to help her mother get iced tea for them.

  “She adores you.” The warm look in Gabi’s eyes stopped him for a moment. So he looked past her.

  “I’m not sure why,” he said, though he couldn’t deny that Gabi’s words appeared to be true, judging by how many times he’d looked up to find Tamara watching him, smiling. “She doesn’t know me at all.”

  “On the contrary, she knows you very well,” Missy said, carrying a tray with four glasses on it. Tamara was behind her with the pitcher of freshly brewed tea.

  “Dad talked about you to Mom,” Tamara said, her eyes clouding as she set the pitcher down on her mother’s cutting table. “And she’d tell me things. When I asked. I didn’t blame you, by the way, even when I thought you didn’t want to know me. It had nothing to do with me. Mom made sure I understood that. It was just about you being your mom’s child and Dad not...”

  She broke off. “Anyway,” she continued, her face reddening. “I just... Mom said that Gabrielle is your attorney, but it seems like you’re...friends...too. It’s cool that you’d bring her here to meet me.”

  She was looking between him and Gabrielle as if there was something to see. And in that instant, he wanted there to be. Suddenly uncomfortable, Liam pulled at the collar on the sport shirt he’d paired with designer jeans that morning.

  “We’re just friends,” Gabrielle piped up, helping herself to a glass of tea. Her formal attire remind
ed him that she was there on his payroll. Working. Because of the mess his father had made of his life.

  Of all of their lives.

  “We have a third friend, my roommate Marie, and we’ve all been hanging together since college. She would have come with us this weekend. She’s eager to meet you, too, but she owns a coffee shop and couldn’t get away.”

  “I live in an apartment upstairs from them,” Liam added.

  “In that apartment building you said you’d just bought?” Missy asked.

  “The one that Dad disowned you for buying?” Tamara’s words left no doubt that her feelings for his father—their father—bore resemblance to his own.

  “Yes, that apartment building. I just can’t get used to hearing you say Dad, referring to the man who fathered me,” he told her. And then sent an apologetic glance toward Missy. Tamara was still a kid.

  He had no business laying his adult grievance at her feet.

  “It’s okay to talk openly in front of her,” Missy said. Holding his gaze. It was the first time he’d looked directly at her.

  She had kind eyes.

  And he wondered how she’d felt when she’d found out, after she was pregnant, that the father of her child was married with a child of his own.

  “What did you call him?” Tamara asked.

  “Old man, mostly.” He said the first thing that came to his mind. “Or Dad. It’s just...” He shook his head again.

  “Weird, huh? That I’m the kid and yet you’re the one who was treated like one.”

  The dart her words shot into his heart took any breath he’d have used to respond.

  “Are these the files you want us to go through?” Gabi asked Missy, saving him.

  Again.

  Someday he was going to have to thank her for that. Her and Marie. Meeting Tamara, finding out that his own father had formed a family separate from him, not even letting him know they existed, made him realize even more how much his friendship with the girls meant to him.

  Not only more valuable than money—but far more important than any pressure his senses were sending him to explore a more intimate relationship with Gabrielle.