Taste for Trouble (Blake Brothers Trilogy)

by Sey, Susan

  These past weeks, she’d come to know him as a man of immense courage. Just tonight, she’d seen him give more than he had to give, lift more than he could carry, and endure beyond endurance. Now she understood why. He belonged to something greater than himself alone. He had a family.

  A family to which Bel didn’t belong. Maybe she couldn’t force him to include her in that sacred circle, but neither could she love him with anything less than the strength and courage he’d shown her family deserved.

  “Oh Bel.” Annie squeezed her hand. “Is there anything we can do for you?”

  Bel smiled. “I wish, but no. I think I’m probably as good as I’m going to—”

  “Actually, there is something.” Bel jumped—they all did—and turned to find Bob strolling across the moonlit lawn toward them.

  “Bob!” She patted her thundering heart. “Where did you come from?”

  “A chat with Kate.” He smiled but it looked grim and hard. “An unpleasant one.”

  Bel shook her head. “Don’t worry. I know I’m fired. Ford’s already offered to take up breach of contract proceedings but I’m not going that route.”

  “Good. I was thinking along different lines anyway.” He sat down on the bench beside her with a weary sigh. “Grab your lawyer and listen up, kid.” He patted her knee. “I have an alternate proposal.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  When the sun cracked the horizon the next morning, James finally allowed himself to head down to the kitchen. To Bel. He knew she’d be there. Knew it the same way he knew which direction a goalie would dive, or a defender would attack. He just knew it in his bones.

  He forced himself not to jog down the stairs. He couldn’t seem too eager. He couldn’t compromise his values. But he’d spent the sleepless night after Bel’s staggering confession of love—she had said she loved him, hadn’t she? In her usual, sideways sort of way?—thinking. Really thinking. And thinking wasn’t James’ usual forte.

  Not that he wasn’t a smart enough guy, or didn’t know how to think when he had to. Just that success in his line of work meant not thinking. There wasn’t time. He had split-seconds to make decisions and the answers had to come from his gut, not his head. He couldn’t think; he just had to know.

  And what he knew right now was that, no matter what had happened between them last night, he wasn’t going to let Bel walk away from him so easily. Maybe the thing with her mom was a problem but so what? Problems were made to be solved, and he was going to solve this one. He could start by learning one hell of a lot more about what would make a woman as inherently fair and justice-oriented as Bel turn such a hard cheek to her own blood. He’d bet his heavily insured right foot there was a story there. Several of them, knowing Bel. She wouldn’t cut somebody off after the first mistake. Not if she could love a guy like him. God, he was such an idiot. Why hadn’t he remembered that last night?

  The scent of coffee hit him first, before he’d even pushed through the swinging door, and his heart lifted inside him. She was there. Bel was in the kitchen. Because who else could possibly be brewing a pot of coffee in his kitchen at the crack of dawn? The smile that spread across his face felt goofy and wonderful. Bel didn’t even like coffee. She drank tea. She’d made it for him.

  He hit the doors at a near run.

  “Look, Bel, we need to talk,” he said, then stopped. Because Bel wasn’t manning the coffee pot. Bel was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Audrey sat at the island counter, deep shadows under her eyes and bleak acceptance in her perfect face.

  “Bel’s gone,” she said.

  “Gone?” Dread clenched his lungs in a powerful grip. “Gone, like out for groceries? Or gone, like—”

  “Gone like gone,” Audrey said. “Gone like not coming back.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” James said, as much for his benefit as Audrey’s.

  “Did you two have a fight or something?”

  “Well, yeah. But she lives here. This is her home.”

  “This is your home, James.” Audrey spoke carefully, as if mindful she was speaking to her employer and trying not to shout. “Had you talked about her staying on after last night? Even after Kate all but fired her again?”

  “No, but—”

  “Or did you tell her she was a failure to you, too, and that you didn’t want anything to do with a girl whose family doesn’t work like yours?”

  “She talked to you?” James pressed a hand to his chest. It felt like somebody had landed a punch right under his heart. He couldn’t get a decent breath.

  “No, not really. I surmised a great deal of it.”

  “That I was an ass? You surmised that?”

  “It wasn’t a hard conclusion to draw, James. Not looking at Bel’s face when she got back here last night.”

  He shook his head. “Bel’s used to it by now. She’s got to be. I mean, I’m always popping off without thinking. It’s why I’m sitting here with you now instead of helping my team kick Mexico’s ass. She knows my mouth gets ahead of my brain sometimes. She’s got to know that most of what I said last night was stupid, spur-of-the-moment shit.”

  “That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt her.”

  He glared at her. “I know that, Audrey. Thank you.”

  She shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

  “She’s angry right now. God knows she deserves to be. But this is Bel we’re talking about. She wouldn’t leave without giving me a chance to apologize or explain.” Would she?

  “She took suitcases, James. Plural.”

  “She’ll be back.” Audrey looked doubtful and he said, “Seriously, unless she took her eggs and her butter and her milk, she’ll be back.”

  Audrey reached behind her and pulled open the fridge. “First thing she packed,” she said. “The clothes seemed like an afterthought, to tell you the truth.”

  James stared at his refrigerator. Anybody else might’ve seen a well-stocked fridge but to him it was a ghost town. Because all Bel’s stuff—the yeast, the capers, the fancy olives or tapenades or what have you? Gone. The farmers’ market eggs, the hunks of weird cheese, the big ol’ block of butter? Gone. She’d left behind his groceries, he realized slowly. She’d taken her own. There was no trace that Bel had ever so much as made a sandwich in his house. His stomach went cold and tight.

  “Did she—” James had to clear his throat against a sudden lump of fear and pain. “Did she tell you where she was going?”

  Audrey swung the fridge shut and regarded him with equal parts accusation and sympathy. “No. She just said to tell you goodbye.”

  “Goodbye.” James pushed on the straining emptiness in his chest with the heel of his hand. “God.”

  “What are you going to do?” Audrey asked.

  “Wake Will and Drew, would you?” James was already heading for the door. “Catch them up. I’m going to talk to Kate.”

  By the time he got to Hunt House, it wasn’t yet 7 a.m. on a Sunday morning but he found Kate fully dressed and at her desk, as if the cameras were rolling.

  He rapped his knuckles on the glass of the French doors and waited while she rose, still staring at a paper in her hand.

  “James,” she said, her knuckles showing white where she gripped the paper. “You heard about this?”

  He glanced at the paper. “About what?”

  “About Bob’s retirement.” She stared at the paper in her hand as if it were a snake. “Effective immediately.”

  “No. Doesn’t really surprise me, though.”

  Her eyes flew to his. “No?”

  James shrugged. “He’s been looking tired lately. Thin. Seemed sort of, I don’t know. Off.”

  “Off.”

  “I expect Will knows all about it. You can talk to him if you’re overset by this, Kate.” He stepped into the room and she automatically gave way, still frowning thoughtfully at the letter in her hand. “But that’s not why I’m here. I’m looking for Bel.”

  “Bel?”

  “Sure. Bel. You k
now—tall, killer smile, hell on cakes?”

  “I had the impression Belinda was leaving town. She tendered her resignation late last night.”

  Fury and fear twined together inside James, biting at his self-control. But he kept his voice easy when he said, “A resignation you accepted?”

  “Of course. While I liked Belinda a great deal personally, my successor’s authority on family relations must be above reproach. She simply wasn’t qualified for the work, James.”

  “Because of her mother.”

  Kate inclined her head but the stately regret of the gesture clashed with the satisfaction in her eyes. He thought back to Kate’s avid, hungry gaze on Bel and Vivi at the fountain last night.

  “You knew her mother was a problem, didn’t you?”

  Kate seated herself with precision on the curvy little chair behind her desk and watched him stalk back and forth on her fancy rug.

  “You knew exactly what would happen if you put Bel and her mom together in front of a crowd, didn’t you?” He stopped pacing long enough to rake his hands through his hair and stare at her in dawning wonder. “You set her up. You invited Vivi last night, didn’t you? You wanted Bel to fail. Why would you want that?”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake.” Kate crossed her legs. “I didn’t want her to fail. I didn’t want anything. It was a simple vetting process, and Belinda proved last night beyond a shadow of a doubt that she lacked a basic job qualification. An extremely important one. Possibly the most important one.” She folded her hands on the desk calmly.

  “A picture perfect family.” James spat the words with a derision he couldn’t have imagined himself using even twelve hours ago.

  “They don’t happen accidentally, Mr. Blake. No more than a perfect pot roast or a gorgeous party does. They all require time, effort, attention to detail, and—most importantly—an excellent recipe.” She leaned forward, pinned him with that cool gaze. “That’s what I sell, dear—dependable recipes for good food, good friends, a beautiful home, a happy family. And while we all agree that Belinda is a certifiable miracle in the kitchen, I think we can also all agree that her ability to perform up to Kate Every Day standards in other areas was...lacking.”

  “And you’re such a paragon of family life?” He looked pointedly around the pristine space. “Where are all the pictures of your husband and kids, Kate? Your grandkids? The stray stuffed animal or dirty sock or empty coffee mug that might point toward some people actually living in this museum you call a house?”

  He flopped down in the antique chair across from her desk, paying no attention to the pitiful creak as it bore up under his weight. “Oh, right, sorry. You don’t actually have a family living here, do you? Because you don’t have a family at all. And this isn’t really a home.”

  She stiffened. “I beg your pardon. This absolutely is my home.”

  “It’s a set, Kate. An immaculate and carefully constructed set where you create the illusion of the perfect home, the perfect family, the perfect pot roast, whatever. But nobody actually eats in your dining room. Nobody actually lives in your living room. And sure as hell nobody actually cooks in your kitchen. It’s all for show. So where do you get off judging Bel for her family life?”

  “Judging her?” Kate smiled at him, smooth and pleasant. “James, please. You’re not angry with me for judging your precious Bel. You’re angry with yourself for judging her. And more harshly, too. I only suggested she wasn’t particularly qualified for my job. You suggested she wasn’t particularly qualified for your heart.”

  James stared at her for a long moment while he absorbed the sting of that one. God. This woman had a real talent for swinging the truth like a hammer. And her aim was friggin’ exceptional.

  “You’re absolutely right,” he finally said. “I did. I was hurt and tired and pissed off that life wasn’t giving me exactly what I wanted. What I thought I’d earned. And because of that, I hurt somebody I love very much. But unlike you, Kate, I’m ashamed of myself. I dropped the hatchet on Bel without even trying to understand her point of view, and she deserves more than that from me. She’s earned more than that from me. From both of us, really. She’s been feeding me since the minute I met her—body and soul. And if she’s willing to give me the chance to try, I’ll spend the rest of my life returning the favor.”

  “A worthy endeavor, I’m sure,” Kate murmured.

  “It is. And if you gave your viewers the chance to know her like we know her, I’m pretty sure they’d love her, too. Vivi or no Vivi.”

  “Yes, well. You’ll forgive me if I don’t agree.”

  “Suit yourself.” James rose from the chair, a sudden, itchy energy bubbling up inside him. He needed to find Bel. Needed to share this new clarity in his heart with her. “Can I see that letter from Bob?”

  Kate pushed it across the desk with one finger.

  “Says here he’ll be out of touch immediately and indefinitely. No email, no cell?” James cocked a brow at Kate. “Doesn’t sound like the Bob I know.”

  “He advises me to have my lawyer handle any contract negotiations that arise until he can finalize the sale of his agency.”

  “Mmmmm, yeah, I see that.” James frowned at the letter. “Any idea where he might have holed himself up?”

  Kate blinked at him. “Why?”

  “Because if anybody knows where Bel is, it’s Bob.”

  “Why would Bob know where Belinda is?”

  James glanced up from the paper. Kate looked genuinely confused. “Because he didn’t doubt her,” James said. “Not ever. Bob believed in Bel from the beginning and he never swerved. Bel wouldn’t blow town without seeing him. It would be rude.”

  Kate accepted that like the manners maven she was. “I can give you his home address and a number for a land line. After that, you’ll have to work with the answering service he’s listed in the letter.”

  “Fine. Thanks.” James took the sheet she tore off a monogrammed note pad and headed for the door. He stopped, one hand on the knob. Turned back.

  “Are you really going to let him disappear like this?” he asked. “Without a word or a fight?”

  Kate shrugged, an elegant twitch of the shoulders inside her silky blouse. “I’ll find another agent,” she said.

  “That wasn’t really what I was asking, Kate.”

  “I know.” She picked up her china tea cup, sipped what must surely be cold tea. “Please close the door on your way out.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  When he returned to the Annex, James found Drew hunched at the keyboard of what served as his computer, Audrey peering over his shoulder at the screen. As usual, the casing was off the tower and a jumble of wires and computer innards spilled out onto the floor. The man had at least half a dozen high-powered laptops to his name, James knew, not to mention the tablets and the smart phones that weighed down his pockets like spare change. But when performance mattered, Drew headed straight to his desktop Frankenstein.

  “Kate says Bel quit last night,” James announced. “Just thank you for the opportunity, etc.”

  “So Audrey tells me.” Drew continued typing. “I’m pulling former addresses right now. Maybe she’ll go somewhere familiar.”

  “Good thinking.” James battled back a surge of hope. “Any luck so far?”

  Drew scowled at the screen.

  “Not yet.” Audrey put both fists in the small of her back and straightened with a wince. She glanced at her watch. “All right, I think it’s finally a respectable hour. Let’s call Bob. I’ll bet he knows—”

  “Probably does.” James handed over the scrap of paper Kate had given him. “Only he’s in the wind, too.”

  “What?” Audrey stared at the paper. “What does that mean?”

  “It means he left his resignation on Kate’s desk this morning, too. Retirement or some such. Effective immediately. That’s his answering service and home address.”

  “Good thing your contract’s solid for another eighteen months,” Drew mu
mbled around the pen in his teeth.

  “Did we even know he was retiring?”

  “News to me,” Audrey said. Drew just squinted at his screen and swore under his breath.

  James flopped onto the couch to stare helplessly up at the ceiling. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He was more foot soldier than general. He blew at strategy.

  He sat up like the couch had goosed him. Jesus, of course! He didn’t need to be a strategist. He had a strategist. World-class, too. A guy whose middle fucking name was brilliance, and who happened to owe James, major large.

  He said, “Where the hell is Will?”

  The frantic clickety-clack of Drew’s keyboard hitched then resumed. Audrey said, “Oh. Um.” James stared.

  “Oh, fuck, are you kidding me?” Because he wasn’t Mr. High IQ but his intuition was faultless. Last night notwithstanding. “He’s gone, too?”

  “I’m sorry, James.” Audrey twisted her fingers until James thought they might snap off. “I told you I’d keep an eye on him last night but—”

  James dragged both hands down his face and came to his feet. “I didn’t expect you to chain him to his bed, Audrey. You’re fine.”

  “I hate that guy,” she muttered, and James tried for a smile.

  “Don’t we all? Skated out from under a good punching, too.” He patted her shoulder. “Ran like a little girl from my mighty Fist of Death.”

  She obliged him with a smile but it was half-hearted at best. “Hey. No knocking little girls.”

  The chatter of the keyboard stopped dead for five full seconds and the resulting silence was louder than a jackhammer. Hope blossomed inside James for the first time since he’d discovered Audrey instead of Bel in the kitchen.

  “What?” He flew across the room, grabbed a handful of Drew’s sleeve and leaned in. “What did you find?”

  Drew stared at the screen, his arm hardening like concrete under James’ hand. “Juvie records.”

  “Juvie records?” James frowned at the screen. “Whose?”

  “Bel’s.”

  James huffed out a startled laugh. “Shut up. Bel does not have a juvie record.” Drew’s silence was grim and the laugh died. “Does she?”