“Take a cruise,” Brad suggested. But adopting cats from the Pampered Pooch was a nonstarter. He couldn’t have his brother more intertwined with Sophie than he already was. “Hard to be lonely with the other five thousand passengers on the ship.”
Drew caught all of the balls in one hand and eyed his brother as if he was considering pelting Brad. “What’s your problem with me getting cats? I’m helping your Sophie. You should approve.”
Evie nodded and stepped out to greet a customer in the dog-supply aisle.
His Sophie. When had she become his? And why did he like the idea so much? She wasn’t his and he wasn’t hers. But they could be. No, he wasn’t treading into those forbidden waters. That way lay more problems than his brother adopting two cats. He shouldn’t care if his brother adopted an entire litter of cats. But he did. Very much.
He should be the one to rescue Sophie. Not his brother. Not Evie. Just him. He scrubbed his hands over his face, surprised his skin was dry since he’d just belly flopped into those forbidden waters.
Sophie returned and diverted his brother’s attention.
“You’re still good dropping everything off tonight, right?” Drew asked Sophie.
Now she was making house calls. To his brother’s place. At night.
Brad hadn’t drowned in those waters yet. He wasn’t claiming Sophie as his, though Sophie wasn’t going over to his brother’s place alone.
Drew handed Sophie his credit card and added, “Brad has a key to my place and a truck for all this stuff and the cats.”
Sophie glanced at Brad. “Can you drive me over there?”
Absolutely. Heck, yes. He managed a stiff nod, not quite trusting his mouth not to spout off at his brother or suddenly shout out that Sophie was his. Already Drew was watching him intently, a sly grin on his face, fully aware he’d gotten to Brad like a dozen burrs under his bare feet.
“Perfect. The cats can settle in while we all have dinner.” Drew slapped his hand on Brad’s shoulder and squeezed hard. “Evie, you’re welcome to join us.”
“What can I bring?” Evie asked.
“Well, Sophie tried to hide the Irish coffee thermos when I walked in.” Drew leaned over the counter. “I can almost reach it.”
“I did not.” Sophie kept him from grabbing the thermos. Once again, her laughter spilled through the store. “I was making room on the counter for all your stuff.”
“Nice cover story.” Drew crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head. “You really need to learn how to share better, Sophie. I can teach you.”
“He’ll teach you how to guard your dinner plate and steal all the rolls before the first course.” Brad shoved his brother, falling into the easy harmony he’d always enjoyed with Drew. Falling into the fun. Falling into what he’d always known. And stepping away from what he couldn’t have: Sophie. “That isn’t sharing.”
“Brad believes everyone likes to share their food from their own plate. He has this habit of eating off every plate at the table,” Drew said. “It’s very barbaric.”
“That’s how I survived since you ate all the food when we were kids,” Brad said.
Drew straightened his shoulders and grinned. “I had to keep up my strength for my extended growth spurt.”
“I’m less than an inch shorter than you,” Brad countered.
“Still shorter.” Drew patted Brad’s head. Brad knocked his shoulder into Drew, shoving him away.
“Take it outside, boys,” Evie chided.
“Got time for a game before dinner?” Brad asked. He might need more than a basketball game to find his center, but he’d take what he could get.
Drew checked his phone. “Meeting until five. Then I’m good.”
“See you on the court. I’ll call Patrick.”
“I’m sure Knox will want in, too.” Drew waved to Evie and Sophie. “See you ladies tonight. Don’t forget the Irish coffee and chocolate lava cakes, Evie.”
“When did we agree on chocolate lava cakes?” Evie looked between Drew and Brad.
Brad didn’t answer, but rubbed his stomach and nodded his agreement.
“When I promised you chicken piccata.” Drew blew her a kiss as he backed up toward the front door. “It’s still your favorite, isn’t it?”
Evie chuckled. “And chocolate lava cakes are still your favorite, I presume.”
“You really are the mother of my heart, Evie.” Drew tapped his chest and left.
Evie pointed at Sophie. “Harrington boys are—”
“Are what?” Brad asked.
“Trouble,” Evie said, gesturing at him. “A whole lot of trouble.”
“But fun to love,” Brad added.
Evie hugged him. “Impossible not to love.” She shooed him away. “Now go warm up or something before your game with Andrew. The women have a successful business to run here.”
Brad laughed and grabbed the door handle.
Sophie’s voice stopped him. “Do you have plans now, besides warming up?”
He’d wanted to check in with Patrick on the hacking case and follow up with his tech staff about the software upgrade and any issues they’d encountered. But the hesitant hope in Sophie’s voice made him linger. “I was just heading over to the office. Nothing that can’t wait.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that furniture. Ella’s school is sort of on your way. Want to walk with me over there?” she asked. To Evie, she said, “I promised not to be late so Ella can help with the doggy manicures this afternoon.”
“I better get Troy to help me get everything ready for us.” Evie disappeared into the back room.
Sophie pointed at the security camera. “I never did thank you for adding the bell that rings in the back room. Now we can work there and still know when someone enters the store.”
Brad held the door for Sophie and followed her outside. He wouldn’t have been shocked to discover Sophie’s street had tilted while he’d been inside and become the steepest in the city. He suddenly felt off-kilter. Again.
Tempted to reach for Sophie’s hand to settle himself, like it had before, he shoved his hands in his front pockets and added space between them on the sidewalk. Telling himself she wasn’t his and this wasn’t that kind of walk. The kind of walk that married couples or new lovers or first dates took. “You changed your hair.”
“I had it cut earlier today.” Sophie grabbed her ponytail swinging against her hood. “I didn’t think anyone would be able to tell.”
Of course he could tell. Her hair looked like the color of warm honey now. And he’d had a weakness for honey ever since he’d snuck into his mother’s bruncheon when he was six and stolen a piece of homemade country bread with whipped honey butter on it. He’d snuck back in and swiped the whole loaf and the dish of butter, then blamed the dogs. “You came in without your hat on.”
Yeah, he’d noticed that, too.
Sophie jammed her hands into her sweatshirt pocket as if she wanted to hide from him now. But her elbow brushed against his arm. “I need to find my father. He’s in Reno.”
“You can’t wait until he returns?”
“This can’t wait. He has my money.”
She tucked into herself, but she never eased fully away from his side. Curious about how much she’d willingly divulge, he asked, “Did he borrow the money or take it?”
“It doesn’t matter. I need it for my loan.” Sophie pulled a quarter from her back pocket and dropped it into an expired meter.
The woman was always rescuing or helping or assisting. It was just in her genetic makeup. Did she understand how rare that trait was? How precious? He waited at the intersection while she dropped two more quarters into two other expired meters, a bit awed and humbled by her. She was better than him in so many ways and she deserved more than he cou
ld give. He frowned at the thought of someone else giving her everything. Someone else making her smile. Someone else holding her hand.
“Fine.” She stepped up beside him and tugged on her ponytail. “My father took the money, but he has plans to give it back—with interest. Although the bank won’t wait on him.”
Brad assumed from her clipped words and frustrated tone that she’d read his expression wrong.
She charged across the intersection, her words tumbling out. “He hasn’t returned my calls, which I’m certain has more to do with his habit of always misplacing his phone charger than not wanting to speak to me.”
Thankfully, Brad crossed the intersection before she opened up that pothole. Her father’s habit was lies. George Callahan wasn’t returning the money or his daughter’s calls anytime soon. Yet Sophie made excuses for his behavior. But the nauseous feeling in his stomach came from the hope in her voice. That desperate hope that her father would come through for his daughter. Just one time. That desperate hope gutted him almost as much as the knowledge that he’d become like her father with his own lies.
But he’d never set out to hurt her. He wanted to set her free with the truth. Set her free from the wasted, useless hope she held for her derelict father.
Brad would hurt her. He understood that now. His hands fisted inside his pockets. “So what’s your plan?”
He had a revised plan. Get to Reno, find George Callahan and have a one-on-one conversation with the man. Without Sophie. If he’d been doing his job and not arguing with his brother and Evie about cats or helping his employees, he might’ve gotten to George first. Too late for him to discuss the should-haves. He needed to deal with the now. Maybe he could still salvage this whole mess. Maybe a sinkhole would swallow him.
“Go to Reno as fast as I can and find my father.” Sophie nodded with her chin toward a group of parents lingering outside the school.
“You expect him to have your money in his hotel-room safe?” Brad asked. “How much money are we talking about anyway?”
“Too much.” She moved closer to the other parents and kicked a rock across the sidewalk. “Life changing.”
“What makes you think he still has it?” Brad asked.
“He promised.”
“And he’s never broken a promise before?”
“My father has broken every promise.” Sophie tugged on his arm to shift them out of the way of the wheelchair ramp that sloped from the side of the school entrance. “But it’s different this time.”
“Different how?”
The school bell buzzed. Less than ten seconds later, the school doors swung wide and students spilled out like ants from a kicked-in hill.
“This time my father will hurt someone other than just me.” Sophie rolled onto the balls of her feet, her attention on the children.
Brad watched the kids, his gaze skipping over the dark brown hair, the long black hair and two redheads. Finally a familiar blond head emerged, a bright smile and even brighter laugh announcing Ella’s arrival.
“I have to try to find my father. I have to do that in Reno.” Sophie looked at him. “I have to go because I have to save Ella.”
Brad cursed under his breath. How was he supposed to deny her now? He watched Ella extend her walking stick and weave her way down the ramp, her friends chattering away beside her. Ella and her friends could possibly wear out his mother and her Myna Bird crew. He’d like to put the two groups together, but he wasn’t sure his eardrums would survive.
Ella rounded the last corner and made it to the end of the ramp. Brad wanted to cheer. Ella was his ticket to keeping Sophie safe in the city. She needed to watch Ella, and she couldn’t bring the little girl with them to Reno. He’d have his chance for his sit-down with George Callahan, alone, after all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
BRAD STOOD AT the floor-to-ceiling windows in his brother’s loft looking at the city skyline and the car headlights streaming over the Bay Bridge. His headlights would join the others within the hour if he could just end this evening. Every bite of chicken piccata had been devoured. Ella and Drew had shared the last lava cake so that cake wouldn’t be lonely.
The kitchen had been cleaned and his after-dinner drink declined. Now Ella, Sophie, Evie and Drew debated the ideal location for Milo’s and Felix’s beds. He’d have thought Drew’s apartment was over eight thousand square feet, not the open-concept space, given the way the foursome were considering every corner and possible complication. They huddled in the guest bedroom, continuing their discussion.
He looked at Felix curled up on the plush charcoal throw draped over the sofa, eyeing Brad as if asking what all the fuss was about. Brad shrugged and picked up Milo, who’d been weaving through his legs, rubbing on his ankles with each complete circle. The brothers had clearly settled in better than their new owner.
The lock on the front door clicked and Brad spun around. Three people had keys to Drew’s place: Brad and their parents. He adjusted Milo in his arms and walked toward the kitchen, watching the door the same way Felix had watched him.
His father held the door open and ushered his mother inside.
“Dad.” Brad raised his voice, letting it carry throughout the loft. “Mom.”
“You won’t return my calls. So I have to resort to subterfuge to see my own son.” His mother ran her hand over Milo’s back. “And I need to meet my new grandsons, as it appears the only kind I’m ever going to have are four-legged.”
She moved on, smiling wide. Brad twisted to see the cat-bed quartet lined up together like a receiving line, Ella flanked by Sophie and Evie with Drew loitering nearby. He began to wonder if his world would ever right itself. His mother had never mentioned grandchildren before as if she expected her sons to deliver her grandchildren. And now she hugged Sophie. Hugged her.
“Sophie, lovely to see you here, too.” His mother bent toward Ella. “This must be your niece.”
Sophie placed her hand on Ella’s shoulder. “Ella, this is Drew and Brad’s mother, Mayor Harrington.”
“That sounds a bit too formal for girls who share a love of all things pink and wear the same fur boots. My sons’ friends used to call me Mrs. H,” his mother said. “But that’s for the boys.”
Ella grinned. “Maybe Mayor H.”
“How about Ms. Nancy,” his mother suggested, and looked over her shoulder at Brad. “For now.”
No, his friends had never called her Mrs. H or Mayor H—or anything but Mrs. Harrington. Ever. What happened? Where was his mother? And why had she added that cryptic for now? Brad glanced at Milo to make sure the cat hadn’t morphed into a fox.
His mother returned to Ella. “We should discuss what other items you have with sheep lining, like gloves or a scarf or hat?”
“I just have boots.” Ella chewed on her lip. “The gloves must feel like pillows around each finger.”
“Well, we’ll have to find you a pair so you can decide for yourself.”
“You can do that?” Ella asked.
“If you can do something for me.”
“What if I can’t do it?” Ella’s voice carried a mixture of suspicion and doubt with a dash of curiosity.
Brad had enough skepticism regarding his mother for everyone in the room. But he matched Ella’s curiosity with a pinch of his own.
“Can you tell me what happens to Princess Noel? Does she find true love with the Sentinel or the Duke? If you can tell me, then I’ll search for a pair of special gloves just for you.”
“You’ve read The Ten Summers series?” Ella gripped Sophie’s hand, her excitement radiating through the room.
“More than once, although that’s between you and me.” His mother stepped toward the sofa. “And I’m still not happy about the rumor that the dragonling, Bunny, won’t be in the movie.”
Sophie and Evie chimed in with several rumors they’d heard. Ella needed no more encouragement as she launched into her list of complaints regarding the upcoming release. The women settled on the couch, Ella wedged between Evie and Brad’s mother. Sophie picked up Felix and settled in the chaise longue across from the trio, joining their lively discussion.
Brad petted Milo, drawing out his purr, the only sure thing he understood in the room. He followed his brother and father into the kitchen. “Mom read a children’s book series?”
“There are sides to your mother I’m still discovering.” His father pulled a highball glass from the cabinet and tipped it at Brad. “I’ve learned that women are in a constant state of evolving and you should never question it.”
“But Mom, as in Mayor Harrington, the cutthroat politician who exposed the truth about every childhood fantasy before I was five... She read a series with warlocks, magic and dragonlings?”
“Apparently so.” Drew slapped him on the shoulder. “Need something to drink?”
He wanted a double of whatever Drew had to offer. But he was driving to Reno soon. “Water works. I’m afraid to add anything stronger, given the evening. I might discover Mom has a secret talent for karaoke.”
His father shook his head. “She won’t ever possess a musical talent.”
Still, Brad wondered what had happened with the real Mayor Harrington. Evie was quoting from one of the books, and the others joined in. Brad groaned. “Not Evie, too.”
“I’ve promised to see the movies with your mother.” His father tapped his glass against Brad’s water.
Drew laughed and clinked his glass with theirs in toast. “I might need to get in on this. Dragonlings could be cool.”
Brad set Milo down and watched the cat scamper into the laundry area toward his covered litter box. He wanted to hide in there, too.
Brad’s mother walked into the kitchen with a palm covering each ear. “I didn’t want to hear the spoiler for Book Five. Ella and Evie have read all six books already.”
Sophie followed and accepted a glass of wine from Brad’s father. “I’ve only finished the first one, so you won’t get any spoilers from me.”
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