by Beth Andrews
He shifted, felt uncomfortable even though he knew she was teasing him good-naturedly. “I like helping people. I actually considered becoming a cop.”
Her eyes widened and she slapped his arm. “No, you didn’t.”
He moved out of her reach, made a show of it to make her smile. “I did. My father wanted me to go into the family business, get a business degree, then an MBA and fall into line at Bartasavich Enterprises. My stepfather never told me in so many words, but I always had the feeling he wanted me to follow in his footsteps and become a lawyer. I thought I’d go my own way, get a degree in criminal justice then the police academy.”
“What changed your mind?” she asked, seemingly interested, eager even, to know what he was thinking. To know him better?
“For one thing, my mom freaked every time she thought about me wearing a badge. I don’t blame her. She comes from a sheltered background, where the men all have nine-to-five, safe jobs. But in the end what really swayed me was I fell in love with the law.”
“Really? You mean that actually happens?”
He laughed. “It did for me.”
“Do you regret it? Not following your own path the way you thought you would?”
He thought about that. “No,” he finally decided. “I don’t. I still find what I do endlessly fascinating, I enjoy where I work and the people I work with. And I did go in my own direction since I’m not some VP of marketing or finance at Bartasavich Enterprises, don’t practice criminal law and have no plans of ever becoming a judge.” He sipped his coffee then took the bite of pastry she offered him. Caramel and cinnamon in a flaky dough. “What about you? What made you decide to become a psychologist?”
She leaned back, her eyebrows drawn together slightly. He liked that about her. Liked how one moment she was full of energy and spitting out whatever thought came into her head, and the next she was mulling over a specific question as if her life depended on giving the correct answer.
“I want to understand what people are thinking, why they do what they do, why they make the choices they make. I guess it started with my constantly questioning why my father acted the way he did, why my mother chose to stay with him for so long. But I never got any answers to those questions. That was when I realized that some things just happen and it’s not really our circumstances that define us, it’s how we react to those circumstances. And if I can help some other kid get through a difficult time, if I can give them a safe place to go, then all the years of studying and hard work, will have been worth it.”
She was amazing. Strong and resilient. She hadn’t let her less than stellar circumstances affect her.
Suddenly she checked her phone. “It’s getting late. You’ll probably want to get back,” she said in an obvious attempt to end their discussion. “Get that all-important work done before you head out to the rehearsal.”
She was right, so he couldn’t even argue with her, couldn’t try to get her to open up more to him. Standing, he nodded at the book in her hand. “Are you getting that?”
“Yes. And a few more I left up at the counter.”
“I have my own pile up there as well.” They walked to the counter together. “Do you want a ride to the rehearsal dinner?” he asked after an internal debate.
One he wasn’t sure he lost. Or won.
“Oh, I’m not going to that.”
“Why not?” Quite a few out-of-town guests had been invited. Of course, Kane and Charlotte hadn’t even known Daphne was coming until two weeks ago.
She looked at him as if he was crazy. “Mainly because I wasn’t invited. The wedding rehearsal is just for family and people actually in the ceremony.”
He needed to drop it, but he couldn’t seem to let it go. “What will you do then?”
“I’ll find something to keep myself busy. Shady Grove is small but it’s still a town. It’s not like we’re stuck out in the middle of a desert somewhere. They have actual shops and restaurants and bars and maybe even a movie theater,” she teased.
“You could come with me,” he invited before he thought better of it. Before he had time to analyze why he’d been adamant about not taking her to the dinner and bachelor/bachelorette party last night only to want her with him tonight. “Be my plus one.”
He hadn’t wanted to bring a date to his brother’s wedding because that seemed like too big of a commitment to make to a woman. In any other situation, traveling across the country to attend a family wedding pretty much guaranteed that things were serious in a relationship.
But he and Daphne were friends. Good friends. Just friends.
And if he kept telling himself that, he might go back to believing it.
“You’re inviting me to spend more time with you? My, my, my—I did make a good impression today, didn’t I? But, as much as I appreciate the invitation, I’m going to have to regretfully decline.”
His gaze narrowed. What was this? Last night she’d wanted him to invite her along, had even crashed the party at the bar. What kind of game was she playing? “Why?”
He didn’t usually ask women who turned him down to give him a list of reasons why. Then again, he didn’t often get turned down. That smacked of the Bartasavich ego, but Oakes wasn’t being arrogant. He just had a really good track record when it came to dating.
Mostly because he didn’t like to take risks. There was no such thing as a sure bet, but he’d helped his odds by getting to know the women he asked out, reading the signs, gauging their interest in him before he made any overtures. Daphne paid for her books and the wedding gift and faced him again. “You’re only asking because you feel sorry for me. You’re worried about what I’ll do all by my lonesome and you feel responsible for making sure I’m not all sad and lonely in my room. Or else you’re worried I’ll crash the dinner like I did the party last night.”
“That is not why I asked,” he insisted, handing over his credit card to the cashier.
“No?” Daphne asked.
“No. Well, maybe partly. But mostly, I asked because I like spending time with you.”
Her grin blossomed. “Well, why didn’t you just say that? What time is the rehearsal?”
“Seven.”
“I’ll be ready by six thirty.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“HOW WAS PHYSICAL therapy today?” Daphne asked Zach over an hour later while she used Skype to chat with him from her room.
“Torture,” he said in his growly voice, his dark brows drawn together as if just remembering pissed him off.
She’d gone to a few of his rehabilitation appointments with him, but it had been too hard on her to watch. The sessions were grueling and she knew they must be extremely painful—it was too much for her to handle. And she hated her weakness, especially when Zach never once complained. He just gritted his teeth and did whatever they asked him to do. He was a man bent on getting his strength back, on getting back to living his life with as much normalcy as possible, with all the independence he used to have.
“I still can’t believe you went to Shady Grove,” he grumbled.
“I told you I was going,” she said. “Since when have I not done what I said I was going to do?”
“It was a mistake,” he said simply. “You going there. Do you really think the Bartasaviches are going to embrace you with open arms?”
She thought back to the way Oakes had kissed her on the street corner, how he’d held her so close, his lips warming as they moved over hers. She bit back a grin. “Oh, I think some of them are warming up to me.”
“Stop smiling. I don’t like it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Most brothers would be happy their family is treating their little sister well.”
“Most brothers have the same family as their little sisters.”
“You got me there.”
&n
bsp; Yes, their situation was...unique. But not unheard of in this day and age of divorce, remarriages and blended families.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I’m having a great time. It’s snowing here and they play Christmas carols on Main Street and all the stores are decorated. The B and B is fantastic, too. When you come visit Kane and Charlotte, you need to stay here.” She frowned. “I’ll have to ask if they have an elevator to the second floor, where the rooms are. I haven’t seen one but it might be in a different part of the house.”
“Why would I visit Kane?”
“Uh, because he’s your brother and because you missed his wedding.” He opened his mouth but she waved away whatever he was about to say. “I know, I know, you have an excellent reason for missing it—”
“Thank you,” he said dryly.
“But I’m sure you’ll want to visit Shady Grove at some point, see how they’re doing. Especially when they start having kids.”
“Junior had a kid I haven’t seen yet,” Zach said.
“That’s because you’re incredibly stubborn. Especially when it comes to C.J.”
Ivy, C.J.’s...well, Daphne thought she could be termed his girlfriend but someone who looked like Ivy, who looked as if she ate up men for breakfast and spat them out before lunchtime, didn’t really fit the typical girlfriend mold. But who was Daphne to judge? Ivy might be perfectly happy being labeled C.J.’s girlfriend. After all, she seemed happy enough with him to get pregnant by him and have his baby last month, a boy they’d named Clinton Bartasavich the Third.
And that had to be the most pretentious name in the entire world. Thank God they’d decided to nickname the kid Trey.
“No,” Zach said. “It’s because C.J. is an ass. Takes after his father.”
She had to bite her lip so she wouldn’t point out that Senior was Zach’s father as well. “He’s here, you know. Senior. Oakes told me he got in around two.”
Zach’s eyes narrowed. “Why would Oakes tell you that?”
She lifted a shoulder, made herself more comfortable on the large bed and crossed her legs under her. “He got a text from C.J. telling him Senior had arrived so Oakes went over to the hotel to see how he was doing, how his flight went.”
“You were with Oakes when he got the message?”
“Didn’t I mention that?” Zach shook his head. “Oh. Yes, I was with him.”
“Why?”
She didn’t pretend to not know what he was asking. “Because we had lunch together. Which, may I remind you, we’ve done dozens of times before. And, before you start in on how he’s a Bartasavich and therefore the spawn of Satan, et cetera, et cetera, let me tell you that we not only had lunch together, but he also invited me to the rehearsal dinner tonight.”
“Daphne,” Zach said, not sounding pissed, but more weary. “Just...be careful. They aren’t like us.”
“You mean they’re not human? What are they? Alien? Zombies?”
“Be serious.”
“It’s tough to be serious when you’re being so dramatic. They’re people, Zach, just like us. They have good days and bad days, and they put their pants on one leg at a time.” Horrified at what she’d just said, she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Knock it off. I know you didn’t. Besides, I have to put my pants on one leg at a time. It’s all I have.”
Her eyes welled. “Stop. I’m really sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Nothing new there. Relax. It’s a part of my life now. I have to live without my arm and leg. That’s my life. No hiding from it.”
“No, you wouldn’t hide from it.” Her brother was the strongest, bravest person she knew.
“You’re not even the first person to make a stupid comment to me,” he said. “And I doubt very much you’ll be the last.” He paused and his mouth quirked in a way that it used to, before he was injured. “I doubt it’ll even be the last time you say something stupid.”
He had her there.
“And while my family may, indeed, be humans, their good days are ones where they rake in a million dollars. Their bad days are when the cleaner didn’t get the champagne stain out of their shirt. And for the record, they don’t have to put their pants on one leg at a time—they can pay someone to put them on for them. Dress them. Bathe them. You name it.”
She sighed. This was not going well. How was she going to convince Zach that she knew what she wanted? He didn’t usually doubt her. Didn’t question her capabilities or her motivation. He was usually right beside her, urging her on.
“I realize your family is richer than Midas,” she said, stressing that the people they were talking about, the people he couldn’t stand, were his relatives. “But Oakes isn’t some snob. You know that, even if you won’t admit it. He works hard.” She remembered what Oakes had said about earning his own way, about not using his father’s name, his stepfather’s reputation, to get ahead. “He’s a good guy,” she said softly. “Why can’t you just admit it?”
Zach looked tired and she didn’t think it was just from his rehab earlier that day. “I do know that.” And it was a banner day when he said anything halfway decent about any Bartasavich except for Estelle, his niece. “He’s a decent guy. But he likes his life tidy. Neat. No drama. No problems. Being with you would mean nothing but problems and drama and rocking that boat he’s spent his entire life doing his best to keep calm and dry.”
“I’m not a child, Zach,” she said, her tone irritable, her mouth a thin line. “I’m not going to upset his life.”
“How could you not? Do you really think he’s going to be able to bring you to Christmas dinner? The daughter of the woman who had an affair with his mother’s husband? You’re a constant reminder of what had to be the worst time in her life. Do you think Oakes wants to rub her face in that by bringing you into her life?”
Daphne shook her head, denial flowing through her, though a part of her went cold, wondering if he was right. “Oakes isn’t like that. He’ll get his mother to understand that I’m not Mom. That what happened was in the past. It’s history.”
Zach rubbed his hand over his face. “Yeah. But the problem with history?” he asked wearily. “It has a habit of repeating itself. It never really goes away. And while people can learn from it, they never, ever forget it. I don’t want you to be caught in the middle when Oakes has to decide between you and the rest of his family. Because you and I both know what choice he’ll make.”
* * *
“THANKS FOR THE RIDE,” Gracie said as Luke pulled into her driveway. It was still snowing hard, but the salt trucks and plows had been out so the roads were pretty clear.
“No problem.” He put the SUV into Park. “I can give you a lift anytime you want,” he said. “I mean, so your dad doesn’t have to take you to work and pick you up.”
Even in the dim glow of the dashboard light, he could see she was looking at him as if he was nuts. “It’s out of your way to come get me then go back into town for work.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, shooting for casual and cool, but his plan was ruined when his throat cracked. Shit. He hadn’t done that since he was fifteen and his voice changed. He was croaking like a freaking frog. He cleared his throat. Smiled at her. “What do you say?”
“I say exactly what I just said.” She spoke slowly, as if he were someone of lesser intellect and needed her to dumb down her conversation. “It’s out of your way. Besides, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be working at Bradford House.”
He sat up. “What? Why not?”
She shrugged. Played with the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “I love working there, especially babysitting Elijah and Mitchell.” Fay and her two young sons lived in an apartment on the third floor of the B and B and Gracie often watched the boys while Fay worked or ran er
rands. “But I don’t get that many hours and they’ll be even less once school is out and Fay puts the boys into summer camps and programs.”
“You should talk to Fay,” he said. Their boss was nothing if not accommodating. “I’m sure she’d be able to give you more hours.” He didn’t want Gracie to leave Bradford House. It was the only time he got to see her outside of school, and basically the only time she spoke to him anymore. “It’d suck,” he admitted, hoping he could get her to change her mind, “working there without you.”
Her eyes widened slightly but then she dropped her gaze to her lap. “I need something that pays better, too.” She laughed but it was forced, not light like her real laugh. “Not that I’ll be able to find something that pays enough to cover the cost of college tuition or anything, but every little bit helps.”
What could he say to that? Continue working at Bradford House making less than a hundred bucks a week so he could keep seeing her all the time and don’t worry about your education? Your future?
“My brother might know if there are any openings at the hospital.” Luke had an older brother and sister who were both married and had kids. His brother, Scott, was an RN there. “He mentioned a job opening in the cafeteria there to me before I started at Bradford House, but the hours weren’t flexible enough for me to work and play football. I could ask him about it.”
She smiled at him. Like she used to. Like she enjoyed being with him. “That would be great. Thanks, Luke.”
He shrugged. Tapped the steering wheel. The silence stretched until finally Gracie undid her seat belt. “Well,” she said, almost as if waiting for him to stop her from leaving, “thanks again. I guess I’ll see you at the dance tomorrow night.”
She opened the door and he finally got his brain working enough to say “Wait!”
He grimaced. Not the best use of what his English teacher called his advanced grasp of syntax and language. “I mean, uh...is Bryce coming over?”
She got out of the car. She was so small, her coat dwarfed her, and her hair was all puffy around her face. “N-o-o-o,” she said, drawing the word out as if his question was the weirdest thing anyone could ask.
