by Belle Aurora
Page 41
I knew that, even if I couldn't tell her so. "I hope you enjoy it. "
I started to turn away from her, to go back and hide behind the cash register like usual, but Finn gave me a small wave of his hand, urging me onward. So I turned back to the table and smiled once more.
"Care if I sit?" I said. "It's a bit slow yet, and since it looks like Xavier's going to be one of my regular customers, I'd like to get to know you a little better, detective. "
Bria seemed taken aback by my strange request, but she waved her hand at the opposite side of the booth. "Sure. I hate to eat alone anyway. "
So I slid into the booth and watched Bria take a bite of her blackberry pie. Her eyes rolled back in her head.
"Heaven," she replied. "Simply heaven. "
I grinned. "If you think that's good, you should try my chocolate-chip pound cake. "
Bria gave me a small smile. "I'll be sure and do that next time I'm in. "
I nodded, and we didn't speak for a few moments.
"You know, I finally figured it out, Gin," Bria said. "Why you seem so familiar to me. "
I had to work very hard to do nothing but keep blinking steadily at her. "Oh?"
"Yeah," she said, taking another bite of her pie. "You look a lot like my college roommate. Same dark hair, same pale coloring. Her family had a restaurant too. Even your blue apron is the same as hers. I loved that place. I spent as much time there as I could. "
She gave me another smile, and I forced out a soft chuckle.
"Imagine that. So tell me, detective. Where are you from?"
I asked the question to change the conversation, of course. To keep Bria from thinking about who else I might look like or remind her of. But I also really wanted to know the answer. I still hadn't looked at the folder of information that Finn had compiled on Bria. For the past few days, I'd been more concerned with how Roslyn was coping and what Mab Monroe was doing to try to find me. And now, with Bria sitting here across from me, I realized that I didn't really want to look at the information. I wanted Bria to tell me herself, the way a friend would.
The way a sister would.
"Please," she said. "Call me Bria. Everyone does. "
I nodded again and smiled. "So tell me, Bria. Where are you from?"
As Bria began to talk about her time in Savannah, Georgia, I relaxed against the booth. A small smile pulled up my lips, and my gray eyes flicked to the wall where a bloodstained copy of Where the Red Fern Grows was mounted, along with a picture of two young men about to go fishing. Jo-Jo Deveraux was right. Wherever Fletcher Lane was-heaven, hell, or someplace in between-I think he would have been happy with things right now.
With Roslyn's help, I'd struck a major blow against Mab Monroe and her organization. It would take her a while to find someone to replace Elliot Slater, and the other sharks were already sniffing around, sensing weakness in the Fire elemental for the first time ever.
And here I was, Gin Blanco, Genevieve Snow, whatever I was calling myself these days. Sitting here in my favorite place in the world with the baby sister that I'd thought was dead. It was something of a miracle.
Oh, things weren't perfect. Mab Monroe was moving heaven and earth, at least what passed for it in Ashland, to try to find me. And if she did, well, there would be hell to pay. The Fire elemental and I were going to dance one day very soon, and I was going to be ready. I was finally going to kill the bitch who'd taken so much from me with just a wave of her hand.
I had no doubt that Bria had figured out that the Spider was really her long-lost big sister, Genevieve Snow. That Bria was going to do whatever she could to find me. What she did when she discovered the truth, whether baby sister turned me in to the cops or did something else, well, I just didn't know. But Bria was here, safe and warm in my restaurant, eating my food, and telling me about herself in a real, personal way that I wouldn't get from Finnegan Lane's file on her.
It wasn't the relationship that I had in mind with my sister. Wasn't what I had dreamed of ever since I'd learned that she was alive, but it was a place to start. That was all that I could ask for now. And it was much more than I deserved. I knew that. And I knew that I had Fletcher Lane to thank for it all. The old man was the one who'd brought Bria to Ashland. Now it was up to me to do the rest. Somehow I would.
And finally, there was Owen Grayson. That morning at his house in the shower and then afterward in the kitchen; Owen had accepted me-all of me-in a way that Donovan Caine never had. Were Owen and me forever? Could I care about him? Could we build some sort of life together? I didn't know, but I was strangely eager to find out, which is why Owen would be waiting for me at his place later on tonight.
It was enough for now.
