Back to You: Bad Boys of Red Hook

by Robin Kaye

  “Shit, Francis. Why not put it on YouTube?”

  “Come on, man, you know how it is. My couch is too short to sleep on, and I’ve got a bad back.”

  “Oh yeah, I know exactly how it is. Patrice has you so wrapped, you’re on the verge of turning in your man card.”

  Francis smiled. “Takes one to know one, my friend, and you, like me, are loving every minute of it.”

  Storm left with a smile on his face; he couldn’t help it. By the time he reached the apartment, the smile had disappeared. He opened the door and overheard Pop calling Rocki Nurse Ratched. D.O.G. let out a bark, tackled Storm, and licked half his face before he could get him to stop, and Nicki had the TV turned up to ear-splitting levels.

  “Stop.” D.O.G. hit the deck. Storm grabbed the remote and muted the TV. “Pop, behave and take your damn medicine.” He heard Pop grumble something just before Rocki came out of Pop’s room, walking like a model down the runway—except Rocki smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.

  “Where’s Bree?”

  “In the office doing the liquor order.”

  Rocki rubbed her hands together. “Oh good. I’m assuming the date went well.”

  Storm rocked back on his heels. “Oh yeah—”

  “Wait.” Rocki held up her hand. “I want to be surprised.”

  “About what?”

  Rocki waved. “Oh, don’t you worry your gorgeous head about it. Have fun with your patient. D.O.G. ate about fifteen minutes ago, so you and Nicki had better take that boy for a walk. Pete’s due for a nap, so he should be fine. I’m outta here.”

  “Rocki, do me a favor—go easy on Bree. She’s not exactly comfortable yet with the idea of us together.” And the last thing Bree needed was an inquisition.

  “You think I don’t know that? Geez, Storm, give me some credit, will you? I’m on your side. I think you’re just what the doctor ordered.”

  Storm wasn’t even going to ask what she meant. “Yeah, well, thanks for staying. I owe you.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll collect. Just you wait.”

  Great, he could only imagine what Rocki would want to collect.

  “Storm, get your butt in here.”

  Pop. Storm cringed and went to face the music. “You bellowed?”

  Pop had a smile on his face when Storm stepped into the room. “I take it your date with Bree was a success.”

  Damn, he still didn’t want to talk to Pop about Breezy. “We worked things out if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “I hope so since you spent the night with her. The only question in my mind is, what are your intentions?”

  “Pop, Bree’s an adult.”

  “She’s like a daughter to me.”

  “And I’m your son.”

  “If you break her heart again, Storm, I’m going to have to hurt you.”

  Storm looked at Pop sitting propped up in bed. He wished the old man were strong enough to hurt him. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Pop. If anyone’s heart is going to end up broken, it will be mine.” He turned on his heel. And wasn’t that just the berries. Pop laughed, and Storm stopped and rested his hand on the doorknob before looking over his shoulder. “I’m going to take D.O.G. and Nicki for a walk, and then I’m going to try to get some work done. Behave yourself, old man.”

  Storm opened the door, only to find Nicki slinking away. “And just what do you think you were doing listening in?”

  “Duh.” Nicki rolled her eyes. “Listening in.”

  Storm gave himself a mental head smack. “It’s bad manners to eavesdrop.”

  Nicki shrugged. “It’s your own fault. You’re the one who muted the TV. What else was I supposed to listen to?”

  Damn, how was he supposed to compete with that logic? When he was Nicki’s age, if he had been put in the same position, he would have done the same damn thing or worse. He tugged on her ponytail. “Get D.O.G.’s leash. We’d better take him for a walk before he has an accident. How about I give you your first drawing lesson, and then you can draw while I work.”

  “You’re really going to teach me to draw?” Nicki tilted her head as if trying to figure out whether he was serious or not.

  “I told you I would, and I always keep my word.” She didn’t look as if she believed him, but then if he had been Nicki, he wouldn’t have believed him either. It seemed like Nicki was a smaller version of himself—only female, but not trusting people to keep their word wasn’t necessarily a gender issue.

  He called the dog and snapped the leash on his collar. “Let’s go buy you a new sketchbook and some decent pencils. It’s a beautiful day, so then we’ll walk to the park and get started.”

  If he was going to make any headway with the two women in his life, he was going to have to prove himself—starting today.

  CHAPTER 15

  Rocki banged through Bree’s office door, which, unfortunately, was not surprising. The woman never met a door she didn’t want to break down.

  Bree didn’t even need to look; she just stuck a finger in the air while she finished her daily phone call with Logan. She looked at her watch; Slater was due to call any minute. She had half a mind to just tell Logan to call Slater with the daily update on Pete, but she didn’t. The two of them were worried sick about Pete, and for some reason calling her made them feel better.

  Rocki had already made herself at home and had her legging-clad leg draped over the arm of the chair. Her orange toenails peeked out of what looked like the shoes Cinderella would wear if she took to hooking.

  That neon orange top should clash with the pink in Rocki’s hair, shouldn’t it? Bree thought about it and decided it didn’t, which was slightly disappointing, along with the fact that Rocki was the only woman alive who could wear those fake jean leggings and not come out looking like an overstuffed, lumpy scarecrow. Life just wasn’t fair. Whenever they were in the same room, Bree felt like she faded into the wallpaper whereas Rocki stuck out like the Megatron in Times Square. Bree hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and met Rocki’s eyes. “Okay.”

  “Wow, that was amazing. I deserve a gold star.”

  “Why?” Bree flipped through her wine list and looked over the week’s specials—surf and turf and prime rib. She made a note to order an extra few cases of Mulderbosch Cabernet Sauvignon Rosé, which would pair perfectly with both.

  “Because I waited.”

  “Nicki can wait longer than you. It’s not necessarily something to be proud of.”

  Rocki looked at her compact and messed up her hair more than it already had been. “Sure, compare me to a ten-year-old after all I did for you.”

  Bree rested her elbows on her desk. “You set me up.”

  “And your problem is?”

  “I didn’t want to be set up.”

  Rocki fixed her lipstick, checked her teeth, and snapped the compact shut. “Oh sure you did; you just thought you didn’t. I knew what the inner Bree needed and I gave it to you—and just between you, me, and your battery-operated boyfriend, you needed to get laid in the worst way. Speaking of which, it’s fortune cookie time.”

  “Not again.” Bree considered beating her head against the desk; unfortunately, it was so covered with paperwork, it was almost padded.

  “Spill, girlfriend. I tell you all about my conquests.”

  “Only to torture me.”

  “Yeah, but that’s just a perk.”

  Bree checked her watch. “I wish I could share”—which wasn’t really a lie, not that she ever would, she just wished she could—“but it’s a crazy Monday. I have a lunch meeting I can’t be late to, and then I have liquor salesmen coming in all afternoon.”

  Rocki rose and put her hands on her hips. “A lunch meeting with who?”

  “Daniel Knickerbocker. I was supposed to meet him this morning, and I was late. He wasn’t happy. I went upstairs to change. When I came down, Storm was here and Daniel wasn’t. God only knows what was said. So now, I not only have to go over everything I had planned to
cover in the meeting, but I also have to smooth things over with Daniel.”

  Rocki made a face.

  “Hey, I don’t have to like Daniel; I just have to work with him, and Storm needs to deal with it. Just because we…You know—”

  “Had amazing, crazy, wild, hot monkey sex?”

  “Just because Storm and I are seeing each other doesn’t mean anything has to change.”

  “So does that mean you didn’t have amazing, crazy, wild, hot monkey sex?” Rocki stared at her, and a smile broke over her serious face. “You so did. Tell me everything.”

  “No.” Bree was sure her face was the color of a Jersey tomato. “Something happened between Storm and Daniel while I was upstairs.”

  “I knew you were making a big mistake when you threw Daniel in Storm’s face the other night. It serves you right. You broke dating rule number one: Never date a man with a high creep factor. FYI—Daniel’s is off the charts.”

  “It wasn’t a date.”

  “Oh yeah”—Rocki tapped her finger on her chin—“where have I heard that before? Oh, I remember, last night before you went out with Storm Decker and got your groove on. Girlfriend, we really need to talk about the definition of the word date. It seems the only one who thought you weren’t on a date with Daniel was you.”

  Bree groaned. “I went on one date with Daniel six months ago. It didn’t work. I told him it didn’t work, and I told Daniel the first time he asked me to the fund-raiser that we would go as colleagues. It’s not my fault he’s incapable of taking a hint.”

  “And now you’re meeting him for lunch? It’s no wonder he’s confused. You’re giving him mixed signals.”

  “I am not. This is the only time I have between now and the zoning board meeting on Wednesday night.”

  “Can’t someone else on the committee take this meeting?”

  Bree wished. “No, Daniel and I have been working on this proposal for months.”

  “Okay,” Rocki said, opening the door. “Don’t forget that Daniel’s been working just as long trying to separate you from your panties. Think about how he must feel knowing that Storm waltzed into town and ripped them off you in only a few days.”

  Bree stood and stuffed a file in her briefcase to follow Rocki out and wondered again what became of her underwear. “Daniel doesn’t know that.”

  “Maybe, but now I know I was right.” Rocki turned around and looked her up and down. “Earth to Bree. Daniel was on the sidewalk when you pulled up in a limo with Storm this morning, wearing the clothes that spent more than a few hours on the floor, and you think he didn’t notice?”

  “You think he did?”

  “Everyone noticed, Bree. Not to be crude or anything, but you have that just-got-fucked-within-an-inch-of-your-life look about you.”

  Bree brought her hands to her heated cheeks. “I do?”

  “Yeah, and you really need to talk to Storm about shaving more often or you’re going to have perpetual beard burn. Now get before you’re late meeting Daniel.”

  Bree checked her watch again. “Shit. I’m going to have to make a run for it.” She ran the two blocks to the Hope and Anchor, slowing to a walk as she turned the corner.

  She wiped her brow, opened the door, and thanked the good Lord for air-conditioning. She was sweating like a whore in church. Sheesh. Of course Daniel was already seated, drinking his water with lemon, and looking as if he’d just stepped out of a boardroom. He stood when she approached the table and made a point to check the time.

  “I’m sorry about this morning, Daniel.” She sat and pulled the file with the proposal for a change of zoning out of her briefcase.

  “Where were you?”

  She didn’t want to say it wasn’t his business, which it wasn’t. She was thankful to be saved from answering when the waiter stopped and set an iced tea on the table for her.

  “I ordered our drinks when I arrived.”

  Bree took the lemon out of her tea and smiled at the server. “Thank you. I’ll have the blue cheese sandwich with watercress and fig jam on Italian bread and a cup of gazpacho.”

  Daniel looked at her as if he smelled something bad. “I’ll just have the Red Hook Burger, well-done.”

  The server took their menus and disappeared.

  Determined to keep this meeting all business, Bree handed Daniel a copy of the proposal she’d spent the last three months preparing. She had every question answered, all the t’s crossed, and all the i’s dotted. “I thought you would present the proposal to the committee and then we could both take questions.”

  “No.” He patted her hand and smiled.

  Bree couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Whenever there was a way for Daniel to get in the news, he was always front and center, not that Bree cared. She was more than happy to stay out of the spotlight. After all, she was doing this to improve Red Hook, she was doing this for her dad who died protecting the people in his hometown, she was doing this to fulfill her destiny. This wasn’t about her. Daniel, on the other hand, thought the world should revolve around him.

  “Breanna, I think it’s best if you give the presentation. I’ll be there for moral support, of course, as will the rest of the committee.”

  “Excuse me?” She took a sip of her tea and cleared her throat; a niggling feeling prickled the back of her neck. Daniel wasn’t the type to let someone else hold the mic if there was one in reach. He wasn’t the type to fade into the woodwork either. No, he could smell the digital pixels of a camera and made sure he was front and center. And Daniel Knickerbocker sure as hell wasn’t the kind of man to sit back and let someone else take all the glory if he could snatch it away—unless he had a reason. “Daniel, we’ve been working the last year on this project, and now you’re throwing me to the sharks?”

  “I’m doing no such thing. You know this neighborhood, the committee members, and you know what we need to do to get our point across. You’re well liked and highly respected, although your behavior for the last few days has me perplexed. Still, I think it’s important for you to get the recognition you deserve.”

  “I’m not interested in recognition, only results. There’s so much riding on this.”

  “Our lawyers think we should have no problem with the zoning board. Everyone wants another park. It will give all the tourists from the cruise lines and everyone who swarms like ants to Ikea another destination spot.”

  She wasn’t buying it. “It still doesn’t explain why we’re not making a united front. We’re heading up the fund-raising committee, the community relations task force, and the business association. Now you want to sit in the back of the room and give me moral support?” She rested her folded arms on the table and leaned in. “What’s really going on, Daniel?”

  The server dropped off her gazpacho, and suddenly it didn’t look very appetizing.

  “Breanna,” he said, his condescending, Thurston Howell III tone making her bite her tongue to keep from saying something she would definitely regret. “I know how hard it was for you to take the Crow’s Nest and change it from a dive into the halfway decent restaurant and bar it is now—”

  Bree’s forehead tightened. “Halfway decent?” The Crow’s Nest was the best bar in Red Hook, maybe the best in all of Brooklyn, and he dared to call it halfway decent?

  “Well, it’s hardly Sardi’s, now is it?”

  She took a deep breath and blew it out in a nice, easy stream and glanced around the crowded restaurant. “Daniel, we’re not trying to be Sardi’s. We’re an upscale neighborhood bar and restaurant with excellent service, wonderful food, and great music. The Crow’s Nest is a place where real people gather, not a place on Broadway where people go to gawk at stars.”

  “The point is, Breanna,” Daniel said, sitting forward and straightening his silverware, “your boss and his sons, not to mention a few of your friends, have questionable backgrounds, and I find myself—well, let’s just say, I think it’s best if I don’t associate with you too closely until you come to you
r senses.”

  “Come to my senses? Now wait just a minute.” She leaned in and placed her napkin on the table. “My boss was a decorated cop. He’s taken in and raised three wonderful foster sons who are intelligent, enterprising, and successful members of society.”

  “Hardly. Every single one of them has a record.”

  “How do you know that? They haven’t broken the law since they hit puberty. Their records have been sealed since the day they each turned eighteen.”

  He licked his lips. “I have my sources.”

  “The kind you have to bribe? Or the kind who owe you money?”

  Daniel’s face twisted into a sneer, and he spent one too many nanoseconds assessing her boobs. “You owe me.” His voice slithered over her like an oil spill. “If not for me, no one would have ever taken a no-account waitress like you seriously.”

  Bree sat back, lost in the incredulousness of the moment. Was he serious?

  “I made you respectable, and I won’t have you running around acting like a well-heeled trollop while our names are connected.”

  Bree’s face flamed. It didn’t matter that what he said wasn’t true. But the lunch crowd sitting within earshot all shifted in their seats like a wave after a Rangers hat trick at Madison Square Garden. “You have one hell of a nerve.” She flagged down the waiter. “Can you please pack this to go? I just remembered a previous engagement.”

  “Certainly.” The waiter picked up her gazpacho and went to the kitchen pretty damn quick.

  “Breanna.” Daniel reached across the table and grabbed her elbow with crushing strength.

  Bree yanked her throbbing arm out of his grasp so fast, she almost knocked over her chair. She gathered her things, threw her bag over her shoulder, tipping over her iced tea in the process, and left him sitting alone at the table in a puddle.

  She headed to the far end of the bar and stood beside the familiar-looking man who stared at Daniel with a look of disgust on his face.

  The man shot her a smile and an I-got-your-back nod, and made more room for her while she waited for her food. “You work at the Crow’s Nest, right? I’m Jack Sanders—” The guy had sandy brown hair, a nice smile, and was built like a linebacker.