Bending the Rules

by Margaret Watson

  She opened her eyes and reached for him, but he wasn’t there. The sheets were rumpled, the other pillow crushed, but the bed was empty. She sat up, shoved her tangled hair out of her eyes and looked around.

  Light poured in through sheer curtains—clearly, Nathan liked waking up with the sun. Last night she hadn’t cared about anything but Nathan. She hadn’t looked at his room, hadn’t even seen the bed. She’d seen only him.

  The morning sun illuminated the old-fashioned walnut dresser and chest of drawers. A watch, loose change, his wallet, a couple of pens and a corkscrew were scattered on top of the chest. A second flat wallet, with papers sticking out, sat there, too. Framed pictures stood on the dresser. One was of four children—a teenage Nathan, his two brothers and Frankie. They were at a beach, and they had their arms draped over each others’ shoulders. Another was the same four children, a little older, and their parents. Everyone was smiling. Happy. A loving family.

  Work and family defined Nathan.

  The bed frame matched the dresser and chest. She touched the dark, smooth wood, wondering if it had been his parents’ furniture. Wondered if there was anything of Nathan in the room. Then she saw the map secured to the wall with pushpins.

  Italy. She climbed out of bed to look at it. Three small towns near Milan were circled in red—Bornato. Rovato. Passirano. Different color pushpins marked a number of other towns. Florence, Venice and Siena. Turin. Milan. And a host of smaller towns. She wondered if the colors meant anything.

  Nathan’s plans, laid out in stark simplicity. The flat wallet on the dresser, beneath the map, was a passport wallet. She opened it and her heart shriveled.

  A brand-new passport sat inside. Beneath it was an Air Italia ticket. The departure date was in three weeks. Open-ended. And changeable.

  Clearly, as soon as the restaurant situation was resolved, he was leaving. When had he planned on telling her and Harley?

  She stared at the blue booklet and the white paper and her stomach twisted. That was his future. Not her. Not Harley.

  Nathan was leaving. And from the number of pins on that map, he was planning on being gone for a long time.

  She’d made love with him last night as if it was the beginning of forever. But, in reality, it was only three weeks at the most. Possibly less.

  He’d come back eventually, but she had no idea what he’d want.

  What have I done?

  She’d leaped off the cliff, and he wasn’t going to catch her. She’d end up bruised and broken at the bottom. She’d fallen in love with a guy who wasn’t interested in the long term. A guy who was dancing away from her and everything else in his life. Who wasn’t going to stick around. She closed her eyes as the realization hit. All this time, she’d tried so hard to be different than her mother, but really she was just the same. Emma had chosen a man who didn’t want to be chosen.

  Emma closed the passport wallet. She had to get her head on straight. Right now there was only one priority. Harley. She was going to need Emma when Nathan took off for Italy and left her behind.

  Left Emma behind, too.

  That’s what happened when you led with your heart instead of your head.

  She gathered her scattered clothes. They’d torn each other’s clothes off, tossed them away. Paid no attention to where they’d landed. She’d thought her sweater had been left downstairs, but Nathan must have brought it up for her.

  The fire, the heat and passion from last night, coalesced into a cold, hard ball in her stomach.

  Last night had been magical. Amazing. A memory she’d hold in her heart forever. But it was morning now. Night and magic were done. He’d told her, right from the beginning, this couldn’t be permanent. Nathan had been upfront about what he wanted, and it wasn’t more family. Wasn’t a daughter and a clingy girlfriend.

  So she wouldn’t burden him with her feelings. Wouldn’t try to guilt him into staying. Her feelings were not his fault. He’d never promised forever.

  Her hand tightened on her jeans. He hadn’t promised Harley forever, either. She glanced at the brown leather passport wallet. The passport and ticket were merely a reminder of what he’d said all along.

  She hooked her bra with hands that shook, then tried to smooth out the wrinkles in her sweater. She could do this. She could smile, kiss him good morning. Have a quick breakfast, then go to work. Pick up Harley from FreeZone that afternoon, go back to their apartment that evening.

  She’d do it by focusing on Harley, who needed her. Harley, who’d lost her mother and now was going to lose her father.

  And Emma’s feelings for Nathan?

  She’d bury them. She’d deal with her loss the way she’d dealt with the other losses in her life. She’d protect her heart and tell herself she’d survive this, too.

  * * *

  NATHAN TURNED TOWARD the stairs when he heard Emma moving around in his bedroom. He’d been lingering in the living room, torn between letting her sleep in, since they hadn’t gotten much rest the night before, and waking her up with a kiss.

  His heart fluttering, he hurried into the kitchen and searched the refrigerator for something he could feed her for breakfast. Nothing.

  Nathan yanked a loaf of bread out of the freezer and tossed it on the counter, then opened the fridge again. Butter. He set that on the counter. But he didn’t have any jam.

  He checked the coffeepot to make sure it had finished brewing. Smoothed the place mats Frankie had left behind, then headed for the living room to intercept Emma.

  She stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching him cautiously. He hurried toward her with a smile, and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her into the air. Kissing her.

  Her arms circled his neck and she kissed him back, her mouth opening beneath his, her hands tightening around him.

  When he raised his head, they were both breathing heavily. “Good morning,” he whispered, brushing his lips along hers. He knew he had a stupid grin on his face, but he couldn’t help himself. Emma made him feel as if anything was possible. As if he could climb out of the old Nathan’s skin, like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis, and become someone worthy of her.

  “Good morning to you, too.” She leaned away from him, studying his face. Smiled back at him, although there was a shadow in her eyes. “Is this going to be one of those awkward morning-afters?”

  “God, no.” He kissed her again, then slung an arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the kitchen. “Unless you insist on more than coffee and toast. My refrigerator isn’t equipped for morning-after breakfasts.”

  Some of the smile leached into her eyes. “That’s good. I think.”

  He turned to her, cupped her face in his hands. Her skin was soft beneath his fingers, and he couldn’t stop touching her. “No one but you here in the morning, Emma.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “And Harley, I guess.”

  Her mouth trembled beneath his before she eased away. “Coffee made? I’d kill for a cup. Then I need to go to work.”

  He reached for her hands, brought them to his mouth. “Back to the real world.” He kissed one palm, then the other. Watched her fingers curl into a fist, as if she wanted to hold his kisses there. “Let me fill you up with toast and coffee before you leave me. You’re coming back tonight, aren’t you?”

  She tugged her hands away from him. “Harley has school tomorrow. I think we need to let her get back into a routine. And nothing’s happened this weekend that seems threa
tening.” She smiled, but it was shaky. “How about if I bring her to Mama’s for dinner?”

  “Yeah, do that.” She seemed nervous. Unsettled. Probably that morning-after awkwardness she’d been worried about. He bent and kissed her again, more slowly this time, and all his desire for her came rushing back. He broke away before he could lead her up to the bedroom again, and poured her a cup of coffee. “I’ll look forward to seeing you and Harley tonight.”

  “Okay. It’s a date.” She took a sip of coffee. “Now bring on the toast.”

  * * *

  TWO DAYS LATER Nathan was in his office at Mama’s, comparing this month’s receipts to the previous month, when his cell rang. He picked it up and smiled when he saw it was Harley. She and Emma hadn’t stayed with him Tuesday night or last night, but they’d come to the restaurant both evenings. Harley had done her homework at the same table where he and his siblings had done theirs.

  Emma had been a little distracted. Maybe a little distant. He’d bent to kiss her, and she’d slid away. When he’d asked her what was wrong, she’d said she had a difficult case.

  Harley, on the other hand, seemed delighted to be at Mama’s. After she’d finished her homework, she’d hung out with Marco. Teased Nathan. Practiced her Spanish with the cooks.

  He hadn’t been expecting a phone call. Maybe she wanted to make sure he’d be at Mama’s tonight. Grinning like an idiot, he pushed the answer icon.

  “Hey, Harley. How are you?”

  “You need to come here. To FreeZone.” Her voice was shaking, and she sniffled, as if she’d been crying. “I need you.”

  “What’s wrong?” He jumped up from his desk and the chair banged into the wall behind him. Shoved his hand into his pocket for his car keys. “Where’s Emma? Is she with you?”

  “She’s not answering her phone.” Harley sobbed. “I’m scared, Dad.”

  Dad. She’d never called him that before. In spite of the fear crushing his chest, warmth flowed over him. “What happened, Harley? Are you hurt?”

  “I got a note.” Her voice wobbled. “In my backpack.”

  “A note from school?” he asked, bewildered.

  “No,” she sobbed.

  Someone took the phone from her. “Nate, get over here. Now.” Cal’s voice. He could still hear Harley’s muffled sobs.

  “On my way.” He ran to his car, jammed the key in the ignition. “Be there in fifteen.”

  “We’ve got the doors locked and the police are on their way. Your kid needs you.”

  “Police? Doors locked?” he said sharply. His tires screeched as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed east on Devon. “What the hell’s going on?”

  Cal had already hung up the phone.

  Twelve minutes later, after breaking about a hundred traffic laws, he parked illegally in front of FreeZone and pounded on the locked door.

  “Where is she?” Nathan demanded when Cal let him in.

  “In the office with Frankie and a couple of cops. They’re...”

  Nathan didn’t wait to hear what Cal said. He ran toward the office and yanked open the door. Two uniformed cops stood to the side, one writing in a small notebook. With Frankie plastered to her side, Harley was saying something. Her face was sheet white and her freckles stood out like dots of ink. Tears streaked her cheeks, and as she talked, she swiped her sleeve across her nose. When she saw him, she let go of Frankie and threw herself at him.

  He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. She clutched at his shirt, sobbing into his chest.

  “It’s okay, Harley. I’m here. You’re okay.” He pressed a kiss to her head, smoothed her tangled hair. Without letting his daughter go, he looked at Frankie. “What happened?”

  The cop who wasn’t taking notes held out a plastic bag with a piece of white paper inside. “When she got to FreeZone, she found this in her backpack.” Harley’s hands tightened on his shirt.

  Keeping one arm firmly around his daughter, he took the bag with the other. Printed at the top of the paper was a short message.

  Tell your old man to stay away from Shaughnessy. Or he won’t like what happens. And neither will you.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  THIS WAS REAL. They’d threatened Harley. His arms tightened around her until she struggled a little. He loosened his hold, but he wouldn’t let her go.

  They’d threatened his daughter.

  Had they threatened Emma, too? Or worse?

  “Have you called Emma?” he asked Frankie.

  She nodded. Not answering, she mouthed.

  “You try her office?”

  “Was just about to when the police showed up.”

  “Do it now. Please,” he added. God. If Emma was hurt, or worse, because of him? He’d never forgive himself.

  He might not, anyway. His daughter and the woman he lo...the woman he really cared about were in danger because of him.

  He kissed Harley’s head again, inhaling the familiar fragrance of her shampoo. The same shampoo Emma used. His throat tightened, and he closed his eyes. Emma was okay. She had to be. He couldn’t bear to think of any other possibilities.

  Frankie had her back to him, and she was murmuring on the phone. “Thanks,” she finally said. “No, I’ll leave her a message. Appreciate it.”

  When Frankie turned around, she squeezed Harley’s shoulder and watched Nathan. “Emma’s in court today. You can’t bring camera phones into the courthouse, so she probably left her phone in her car. That’s why she’s not answering.”

  Thank God. “Would you leave her a message to...”

  “Already done.” Frankie grimaced. “She’s going to freak out. She’ll have about a jillion missed calls from Harley, Cal and me.”

  Harley lifted her face from Nathan’s shirt. “Emma’s okay?”

  “She’s fine.” He stroked Harley’s hair away from her face. “As soon as she’s done in court, she’ll call.”

  Harley’s face crumpled again. “When she didn’t answer, I thought... I was afraid...”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “I know. Me, too.” He used his thumbs to wipe away Harley’s tears. “But she’s okay.”

  Harley nodded. Gulped. Wiped her nose again, then let go of his shirt. But when he put an arm across her shoulders, she huddled close.

  “We need to talk to you before we leave, Mr. Devereux,” the younger officer said.

  Frankie held out her hand to Harley. “You want to get a cupcake while your dad talks to them?” she asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “Okay.” She waited for a moment, and Harley finally moved away from Nathan and took Frankie’s hand.

  “I’ll be out in a few minutes, Harley,” he said. Forcing himself to smile, he said, “Make sure they save one of Frankie’s cupcakes for me.”

  As the door closed behind Harley and his sister, he turned to the police officers. “What the hell is going on?”

  * * *

  EMMA SLID INTO her car and sat for a moment, staring over the steering wheel, not seeing the concrete walls and pillars of the parking structure, the slice of downtown Chicago over the half wall of the garage.

  All she saw were the two women on opposite sides of the aisle—the determined foster parent and the mother who’d come to court, rail-thin, seemingly sober, but missing several teeth and her face bearing the unmistakable scars of methamphetamine addiction.

  That, and the photos of her abused child Emma couldn’t bea
r to remember.

  Sometimes, her job really sucked. Yes, she’d saved a child today. But a family was broken. It hadn’t been much of a family to begin with, but still. Taking a child away from a parent was always heart-wrenching. Unbearably sad.

  Harley was going to lose her parent soon, as well. Not from drug addiction, not from abuse, but Nathan would be just as lost. Thousands of miles away in Italy.

  He’d return eventually, but the damage would be done. After being abandoned by her father, would Harley ever completely trust him again?

  Emma bit back tears. During the four days she and Harley had spent with Nathan, Harley had been so easy with him. So comfortable. As if she’d finally accepted that he was her father.

  Although it meant Harley would eventually leave her to live with Nathan, Emma had been happy. Harley needed her father—and even if he didn’t realize it, Nathan needed his daughter.

  Now? How was she going to help Harley deal with this new loss? Especially since Emma was having a hard time dealing with it herself.

  Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, she opened the console and fished out her phone. Seventeen missed calls.

  Heart thundering in her chest, she pulled up the call log. Harley. Frankie. Cal. Nathan. All had called more than once. Oh, God.

  Her hand shook as she punched in Nathan’s number. “Emma,” he said immediately. “Thank God.”

  “What’s wrong? Is Harley okay? What happened?”

  “Harley’s fine. But you need to come to FreeZone.”

  She closed her eyes, gulped for air. “Why...what’s wrong?”

  “There was a threatening note in Harley’s backpack when she got here.” Emma gasped and Nathan said quickly, “She’s fine. Having a cupcake. The police are here. No one’s going to hurt her.”

  All Emma heard was police. Hurt her. A fist tightened around her chest, squeezing. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.