by Dianna Love
Ben caught sight of Trish and grinned. “Hey, Darlin’. How ya doin’?” He crossed the room and grabbed her in a bear hug.
She smiled, relaxing a little more. Ben was like family. “I’m doin’ right fine. How’s that beautiful baby?”
He released her and his eyes lit with new-daddy happiness. “He’s perfect. I’ve got new pictures, but I don’t have time to let you tell me how handsome he is right now.”
“Email them and give Kerry a hug for me, Sug.”
“I’ll do it. I think you know Rhonda Sutton.” Ben turned to Rhonda. “This is Zane’s sister you might remember from the holiday party.”
Rhonda offered Trish a pleasant smile. “Yes. Nice to see you again.” Then she switched right back to business with Ben. “You were going to show me those files before the meeting.”
“Sure thing.” If Ben thought the woman was a bit abrupt, he didn’t let on.
Trish cut the woman some slack. Rhonda was out of the DEA office in DC and probably had way more on her mind than chatting with Zane’s little sister.
As Ben and Rhonda headed down the long hallway to the individual offices, Zane came walking up that same hallway at a fast pace. Trish took that as a good sign that he needed to get out of there soon, too.
Finally, she could hand off the ticket and get moving. “Hey, Sug.”
Zane hugged her. “You look terrific, Sis.”
Not that she didn’t appreciate a compliment as much as the next woman, but the constant mantra from her only sibling wasn’t an honest measure. It was meant to shore up her emotional state. She could waltz in wearing a filthy burlap bag and Zane’s first words would still be a positive assessment. What would it take to convince him she was no longer his fragile little sister?
Zane started in on her. “You’re too thin. You’re not eating right, are you?”
“You just told me I look terrific. So which is it?”
“Just take care of yourself,” he grumbled instead of answering.
She laughed at her grouchy bear of a brother. “Brought your ticket.”
“About tonight...”
Trish didn’t like the sound of that. “What?”
Zane scratched the back of his neck, something he did when he procrastinated. “Angel is down with a cold and–”
Trish gripped his arm. “She didn’t say anything about that in her email this morning. Is she okay? Is the baby okay?”
“They’re both fine, but she’s miserable and can’t take any meds because of the baby. She’s not getting around too easily at this point so I need to be at home to take care of her when I get things wrapped up here. That means I can’t go with you to the shindig tonight, Honey. Why don’t you pass, too?”
She squeezed out a tired sigh, wishing the day would get easier. “You have to be kidding to think I’d miss tonight.”
“I know this is important to you—”
“That’s putting it mildly. This is an unbelievable opportunity.”
“I know, honey–”
“No, you don’t know.” She held her temper in check and glanced around, glad they were alone in the reception area, but this was not the place to argue with her brother. Stepping close to him, she dropped her voice for his ears only. “I need at least two solid years, maybe three to get my certification as an appraiser. It takes even longer to gain the respect of other people in my field. This new Treasured Past television show is a chance to prove that even though I may not have my certification yet, I do have expertise. I can’t buy that kind of credibility or exposure.”
That didn’t take into account the advertising package awarded the consultants that Trish would never be able to afford if she had to buy it. After having been a burden to her brother for so long, Trish would not lose this chance to prove she could stand on her own and be successful. Prove she had real skills.
Extraordinary skills.
She’d studied under the best when she’d been in her teens. She knew antiques, especially fifteenth century, and had passed every test–so far–the television group had thrown at her.
Zane’s eyebrows dropped low over his eyes. “You made the final four. Tonight’s just a dog and pony show, right? They’ll send you the packet of instructions for the final qualifying round.”
Un-freaking-believable. “In my shoes, would you expect Angel to stay home?”
While Zane tried to come up with an answer for that–fat chance–Trish finished her vent. “What kind of message would I send by not even being present for the announcement at this banquet? The free PR alone for ReSolution is invaluable. And the banquet is a fundraiser for the program’s appraisal scholarship program. The producers are the decision makers. Think they won’t notice if I don’t show up tonight?”
All at once, she considered another reason he might not want her to go. “Are...are you saying you don’t think I have a chance?”
He frowned harder. “Of course not. You’re perfect for this. They’d better pick you for one of those two positions.”
How could she have doubted his support? “Thanks.”
“It’s just that you’ve been running hard and pushing to make a go of the shop and now this television show...hell.” He gave her his best hangdog look. “I can’t protect you every minute and I worry about you, okay? That’s it in a nutshell.”
Oh, no, he was pulling the worry card. She loved her brother, but she also understood exactly how his mind worked when it came to family. He wasn’t happy unless he had the women in his life tucked close where he could watch over them.
Angel was his responsibility now.
Trish was not. “For crying out loud, Sug. I can take care of myself. I would love to have you there, but I’m fine.”
“I don’t want you going alone.”
“I’ll be with Heidi and Gunter.”
Zane’s face took on that bulldog determination. “You said you had to go early and they won’t be there until later. You loaned your car to Bunko for the night. How’re you going to get there without a car?”
She’d call a cab, but it would be a pricey ride. Hell, she didn’t know, but that wasn’t what worried him and she knew it. She cut to the real issue. “I don’t need a chaperone.”
Zane’s eyes filled with pain, the same pain she remembered from when he’d found her laid up in a hospital, half beaten to death after she’d make a colossal, alcohol-driven mistake.
He said, “I know you’re strong, but I still worry.”
He was worried she’d drown herself in a bottle again.
She’d fought too hard for every inch of ground she’d gained back from alcohol and wouldn’t give it up now. “Trust me. I need to manage these things myself. Okay?”
He hugged her, the same hug that had kept her going through the bad years, his voice gruff. “You’re doing great, Sis, and I’m real proud of you, but humor me and let me send someone from the office so I can rest easy with Angel tonight.”
She cursed silently, facing defeat. Trish would do anything to avoid causing Angel stress. “Fine.”
People were walking up the hall behind Zane, talking in low voices, and Leanne stepped back into the reception area holding one of those overnight envelopes. She stepped over to Zane. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go to the banquet with Trish tonight. I was really looking forward to it, but I just got a call that screwed my evening.”
“Really? Damn.” Zane ran his fingers through his hair.
Trish smiled, ready to grab her victory when a deep voice said, “I’m free tonight.”
Zane and Trish turned around to find Josh standing close enough to have heard the last part of that conversation–the part about Zane wanting someone from the office to escort Trish. Josh added, “Sounds like a fun event.”
“You don’t even know what it is,” Trish argued.
Josh shrugged. “I’ve been bored to death since I got to this town. I’m up for a diversion. You can explain it on the way there.”
Trish saw Zane stiffen, his
hands clench into fists, just like when she was a teenager and Zane still lived at home. He’d run off any boy who’d wanted to date her.
Leanne stepped over and whispered something to Zane. Whatever she said eased all his tension.
Zane looked at Josh and said, “Great. Thanks.”
Leanne gave Trish a conspiratorial wink.
The grin that crinkled Josh’s eyes telegraphed some silent victory. As if he knew something no one else in the room knew.
Trish looked up at Zane, who had a strange grin on his face. “Who are you? I can’t believe you just agreed to that. Where is my overprotective brother? Did aliens replace him with a sane pod person?”
Zane leaned down and said, “I’ll explain later.”
She didn’t give a flying flip what he explained. She was not going anywhere with a man from this task force who turned her body into a lust machine with one smile. With everything she’d gone through to reach this point, she was not about to gamble that progress by getting anywhere near Josh, or by letting him distract her while she was working. Tonight was too important.
Of course, somebody would have to explain that to her wild hormones. The ones that had been sleeping peacefully until they heard the mention of spending time with Gorgeous Super Stud.
Shaking her head, she said to her brother, “Thanks, but I’ve got this. You are not in charge of my social or my professional life.”
Josh asked, “What time would you like me to pick you up?”
Sighing loudly for everyone’s benefit, Trish said, “I appreciate the offer, but you’d just get in my way.”
His eyes flickered with something dark before he shifted his wide shoulders in a shrug and said, “If you say so.”
“I say so.”
Zane started in on her, “Trish–”
She raised her hand. “Discussion over.”
As she walked to the door, she heard Zane mutter something ugly and she could swear she heard Josh chuckle.
Trish let it go, feeling pretty damn good about asserting herself. She enjoyed the confidence boost until she reached her car and slid inside, where she froze.
A pale-gray envelope had been placed in front of her speedometer. Inside was another familiar note.
I know who you went to see today. I’ll find out if you told him anything. If not, he’s safe, but you still broke the rules when you visited him. Prepare to pay for that.
Chapter 7
The bell above Trish’s head jingled when she entered ReSolution. Her eclectic gallery was located on Las Olas Boulevard and carried new art and high-end antiques.
Her pride and joy.
Heavy brocade curtains draped the windows, and classical music played softly in the background, welcoming the customer to browse. Hundred-year-old Persian rugs covered the restored, salvaged wood floor she’d had installed to give patrons the feeling of entering an estate home.
She loved this place, but she was still so shaken by that last note from her stalker that she couldn’t relax into the ambience she’d created with so much care.
Unlike most upscale antique shops, ReSolution had a unique look with select contemporary art mixed in with the classic furnishings. Individual areas of the six-thousand-square-foot shop had been decorated to replicate intimate rooms.
When she’d been in her teens, Trish had envisioned a shop of her own that looked just this way.
That was before she’d lost both parents in one day and learned soon after that she’d been nothing more than a mistake to them. Unlike the son born nine years before her, Trish had been an unexpected inconvenience and a burden.
The dark years had followed.
And those years are behind you now.
For the first time since then, she had a group of people who sincerely cared about her, a chance to prove she belonged, and that she could turn her passion into a viable business.
That she had value.
The door had barely dinged closed behind Trish when a hunched-over, craggy old woman waddled toward her, kept moving and exited without so much as a glance.
Trish suppressed the urge to stick out her tongue. She’d waited on the obstinate woman several times and should be used to the old biddy’s cool disposition, but getting rebuffed still bothered her.
“Hey, over here,” a female voice called to her.
Trish followed the sound to where she found her best friend, Heidi Hildegard, squatted at the rear of the store next to a two-foot-square cardboard box. A compact female with bangles on her narrow wrists and a pointy nose, she had a genuine smile that made everyone want to be her friend. In one ring-covered hand Heidi held up an ultramarine-blue glass dish inlaid with brilliant dichroic slashes.
“You killed it on your last buying trip to Atlanta. This fused glass from that Peachtree City artist is exceptional.” Heidi grinned, her nose and eyebrow rings sparkling along with her personality.
“Yeah, Gail Jensen’s work is terrific. It’s a perfect compliment to our Art Nouveau room.”
Bam. Smash. Bam. Trish jumped and jerked her head up at the racket echoing from the back room.
“That’s Bunko,” Heidi said. You told him to start on the shelves today, remember?” She watched Trish with hawk eyes.
That’s right. Bunko. The twenty-six-year-old man Trish and Heidi had met at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting who was working hard to change his life. Trish had been giving him part-time hours, but he came early and stayed late more often than not.
She ran shaky fingers through her hair. Settle down or Heidi will see through your everything-is-fine pretense. Trish hid her nervous fingers inside folded arms. No chewing on her nails.
That only left screaming at the top of her lungs.
Or Arnie’s suggestion for stress relief–getting in a ring and kicking someone’s butt. Primitive, but it usually worked.
Since neither was an option, Trish cleared her throat. “Right. I forgot. Too many things on my mind.”
“Are you okay? Seem a little edgy lately.” Business partner, friend and housemate, Heidi also qualified as sister. They’d met when Trish had tried AA on and off during her earlier, bleak years. When Heidi emerged into the light, she’d grabbed Trish’s hand, refusing to leave her behind.
Only a real friend would have held on when Trish kept losing her grip and falling backwards. She owed her life to Heidi.
Heidi, Zane, Angel...Trish would never let one of them down again. They loved her and deserved her best.
Frowning, Heidi placed the glass dish back in the box and stood. “What gives, Trish? I heard you moving around downstairs in the wee hours last night. You having trouble sleeping?”
“I’m fine, Sug.” First Zane, now Heidi, who would tell Zane the minute she sniffed a problem. And finding a note stabbed with a butcher knife on a cutting board inside her kitchen qualified as a problem.
Thankfully, the original owners had built the second floor as an entirely separate living area accessed by steps up the side of the house, so Heidi was safe from Trish’s unwanted company.
No one in their neighborhood ever complained about theft or vandalism. One reason she’d chosen the older subdivision. But now she had to put “security system” on her list of things to do and people to contact.
Or would that upset her stalker?
ReSolution had been protected from day one. A basic security system that alerted the police if someone broke in or a fire erupted. God forbid.
Heidi had that I’m-not-buying-it look.
Trish told her, “It’s just been a sucky day with having to drive into Miami on top of everything else going on. And after I got there I argued with Zane.”
Heidi’s eyebrows arched together like a drifting seagull. “What’s bugging him?”
“He can’t make the Treasured Past banquet tonight.”
“Are you serious? Why can’t he go? Doesn’t he realize how big a deal this is for you?”
Always her champion. “He does, but Angel’s sick with a cold and barel
y getting around. She needs his help. Poor thing. She can’t take anything for the cold because of the baby. And that was no problem, because I want him to stay home and fuss over her, but he got pissy when I refused to take someone else in his place.”
“You won’t be alone. I’ll be there.”
“I told him that, but you know how he is when it comes to women. He better not send someone to act like a bodyguard.” Or her brother would land on the top of her butts-to-be-kicked list.
“He loves you.”
Yes, but his hovering didn’t make Trish’s life any easier right now. Just the opposite. “He’s smothering me,” she grumbled, then admitted, “My fault. With my track record, I don’t blame him, but–”
Heidi got all cranky. “Don’t even go there, Trish. Your track record has rocked the charts for seven solid months. Today is what counts.” Her face twisted with a scowl. “Be glad you aren’t stuck with Gunter tonight. Ugh.”
Trish should feel guilty since she was the one who’d convinced Heidi to take Gunter so he could attend. Gunter’s antiques emporium had been top notch, in its day. But he’d been in business since the eighties and had allowed his inventory to turn into a mix of antiques and junk. She had a soft place for the grumpy guy because he’d been the first merchant to introduce himself when she opened her shop. Always interested in how she was doing, he’d made it abundantly clear he wanted to go to the banquet tonight.
Trish appreciated Heidi’s sacrifice. “You’ll keep Olivia off his back. She won’t pay for a ticket, but with her contacts she’ll worm her way into the banquet.”
“Gunter only agreed to go with me because you were taking Zane. You know he’d rather be with you. He’s not my idea of a hot date. We’re like a match made in outer space. Olivia could have him if she was anything like you.”
Barely over five feet tall, Heidi made up for what she termed her boring lack of height with spiked platinum hair, four-inch elevator heels and an exposed, pierced navel. Compared to Gunter’s reserved suits and old world ways, she was a thrill ride and he was the cart pulled by a donkey.
