“Sure. More the merrier. If we can fit them all in our apartment.”
“Good, because I invited Declan.”
Phee sighed. Of course, she had. “We've never done holidays together before.”
“And it's time we did. I mean, you did go to dinner with him the other night, right?”
“It wasn't a big deal.” A thought occurred. She turned to her sister. “You didn't invite Robert?”
Luna wouldn't look at her.
“L. Tell me you didn't.” If their father attended, she'd eat at Howard Johnson's.
“No, I didn't. But you may want to—”
“To what, L.? I'm through with him. I told you that already.”
The bell over the shop door rang and a male voice murmured at the front of the store. As usual, Phee's radar went up. There was something familiar about this voice. Luna took the dungarees up to the counter just as Carragh MacKenna rounded the corner of a shelf holding stuffed kittens and puppies.
Carragh was in a baby clothes store.
“Following us?” Her words blurted out of her mouth. Twice he'd mysteriously shown up, and not exactly in the likeliest places.
Luna's eyes grew wide and gaped at her.
“What?” she mouthed to her sister. Carragh stood in front of them in a black trench coat, a sharp contrast to the sea of pastels, and L. was worried about manners?
The man smiled down at Luna. “Yes, actually I was. I saw you both go into the store and—” his eyes darted over Luna “—I wondered if I had congratulations to deliver.”
Luna smiled—actually smiled at that. “Oh, not us. Rachel. Trick's wife.”
Phee glared at her with a why-are-you-telling-this-man-anything message.
“I see. Please, pass on my best wishes.” He nodded down to Phee's arms wrapped tight around her waist. “And how is the ankle?”
She was finally off crutches, though it wasn’t fully healed yet.
“Fine.” She dropped her arms to her sides and turned away, keeping one eye on the man in case he got any ideas.
Luna stepped forward. “Thank you again. For rescuing her.”
“For the ride,” Phee clarified. “Yeah, thanks.”
Carragh eyed the dungarees Luna held. “Trains, huh?”
She held it up to him. “Too much?” She wrinkled her nose.
“Couldn't say. I haven't dived into fatherhood yet.” A phone rang inside his jacket. “Ladies.” He dipped his chin once to both of them, turned on his heel, and drew out his phone as he exited the store.
“He's stalking us. Not good.” Phee mock shuddered a bit.
“He's not so scary. I mean, he did—”
“Don't you dare say 'rescue' again. He's a MacKenna.”
“Who seems different than his brother. Plus, I'm sure Declan's got it covered. And now that he's family…”
“Oh, really? Is that why two guys were sitting at the stage with guns the other night? Good thing Starr wasn't around.” Their sister had been through enough, and Luna's Pollyanna attitude around everything couldn't stand right now. “Please, tell me you'll be careful if you see him again.”
“Why would we see him again?” Luna shrugged and handed over the dungarees to the girl behind the counter.
The clerk picked up the price tag and scanned it. “He was rather handsome.”
Luna’s flush returned, which only pinged Phee's radar again. As soon as they'd paid for their items, Phee steered Luna to the front.
“L., tell me you are not interested in Carragh MacKenna.”
“Are you kidding me? No way.”
Phee's chest filled with oxygen. “Good. Because I kind of always thought you'd end up with Max.”
Luna gasped and then let out a giggle. “I don't think I'm his type. We’re just friends. He said I remind him of his late sister.”
Oh. Her radar was clearly only good for one thing—citing danger and little else. “Well, be careful.”
They stepped outside and huddled under the small awning in front of the store. Sheets of water fell from the sky and a small river poured off the fabric over their heads to the concrete below, splashing their ankles.
“Oh, great. No umbrella.” Luna lifted the bag holding the gift-wrapped items. “I paid extra for the wrapping. I don't want it to get wet.”
Phee didn't want to bust her ass again. What was up with these storms that came out of nowhere? “It's what November does in the Mid-Atlantic. We can wait it out.”
The door of the black limo parked in front cracked open. “Can I give you ladies a lift?” Of course, it was Carragh, with a rather gorgeous brunette in the back, too.
“We have a car,” Phee said.
The man got out and dramatically cracked open that huge, familiar golf umbrella. His driver did the same. “Well, at least let us get you to your car without getting soaked.”
“Carragh, we'll be late.” The brunette gave them a fake smile as if the entire group was inconveniencing the hell out of her.
Carragh didn't respond to the woman—rather, he held the umbrella out.
Luna smiled at him—again—and stepped under his huge umbrella. Phee had no choice but to step under the driver's since he held it out. Hand to God, if I so much as sense a gun on either of them…
After they were settled into Luna's car, the doors had clicked shut, and Carragh and his driver had turned to go back to their limo, Phee faced her sister. “Don't even think about it.”
Luna started up the car. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
Phoenix knew her sister—knew every facial expression, every tone of voice. They were in bigger trouble than they knew. Luna wouldn't watch out for herself.
31
Phoenix pushed against Shakedown’s front door and stepped into the swell of Hey Big Spender and shouts and hollers. The familiar scent of the club rose up. Oranges and furniture polish would forever remind Phoenix of Shakedown. Putting in a fancy filtration system that scented the air was yet another thing Declan had done when she’d complained about the cigar smoke.
Oh, man, her mind couldn’t stop connecting him to everything now. This is why women get swallowed whole by the male species—women’s brains couldn’t stop making men the center of everything.
No, that would not be her. She'd come tonight only because there was nowhere else to go and sitting in her apartment alone wasn't happening. She hated that Starr and Luna were still going on tonight and she wasn't going to be a part of it. Plus, she needed to see everything was still okay there, then—maybe—that uncomfortable restlessness that had taken over her limbs could stand down.
Max looked positively cheery standing outside on guard. Perhaps Declan's meeting with Tomas wasn’t the harbinger of the end of the world. Otherwise, the place would feel different.
She gingerly made her way to the bar. Her foot was feeling so much better. A few more days and she'd go back to work. For now, she'd have one drink and go home once she was assured things had returned to normal—or as normal as a burlesque club could be.
She glanced at the stage. Sally Mae had taken Phee’s part in the Big Spender number and was flanked by Starr and Luna. Sally’s black hair was such a sharp contrast to her sisters’ flaming red it made her stand out like she was the star.
Her leg bent and then rose up to the ceiling in an impressive high kick. The woman had some flexibility and her super-white teeth gleamed under the spotlight. Oh, yeah, that woman had “star” written all over her.
Wow. Phee really had been replaced. A kernel of remorse arose, which she squashed immediately.
Phoenix slid onto a stool at the far end of the bar near the waitress stand. “Hey, Jackie, have you seen Declan?” She needed to tell him they'd run into Carragh. She could have texted it, but she needed to see him in the flesh for such news. The man would just show up at her apartment otherwise and then the kissing business was in danger of arising.
“He's in back.”
The amount of relief at hearing tha
t pissed her off royally. She wanted him to be okay, but there was no reason to hang all her emotions on him. They’d kissed—that was all.
“Want a drink?” Jackie asked.
“A vodka gimlet?”
“Sure thing. You okay, honey?”
“I'm fine.”
A guy slid into the stool next to her. “Put that on my tab.”
“That's nice of you, but no thanks.” That's the one thing she'd never do again. Be forced to drink with patrons like at Maxim's.
“Caught your dancing last week. You been doing it long?”
Of course, he wanted to talk. “You could say that.”
He raised a hand. “Don't want to be bothered, I get it.”
Shit, he was a customer. “Sorry. It's just…”
“Yeah, I saw that guy reach for you the other week. What an ass.” He raised his drink to his lips and drained the last bit. He threw a $50 down on the bar. “Thanks, Jackie. Have a good night, Miss Phoenix.”
Shit, she really was a bitch, wasn't she? Why? Because she’d been replaced so resolutely? Because Declan was in love with her? Even on her blindest day, she could tell she’d crossed some ungrateful, spoiled-ass line.
She swiveled in her chair and touched the man's arm. “Thank you for the offer, anyway.”
He nodded once and strode away.
“That guy was harmless, ya know,” Jackie said. “He's a regular.”
“Yeah.” But she didn't know, did she? Maybe she was permanently screwed up on the inside, not ferreting who was good, who wasn't anymore. She had no radar where before she had honed it to a fine point. Then Declan had to go and kiss her and screw up her resolve.
Sally Mae whirled in a series of turns, perfect posture, perfect foot placement.
Oh, and he had to replace her with someone amazingly great.
Jackie put a drink in front of her and then set her elbows on the bar, putting her hand on her chin. “So. Want to make me a thorough cliché and confide in me?”
“I wouldn't know what to say. My brain is a little… lost right now.” That was an understatement. She couldn’t gain any mental footing.
Jackie eased up at seeing someone at the far end wave at her. “That's okay. Sometimes you gotta get lost to be found.” She winked at Phee.
Phee picked up her glass and gulped down half, the vodka burning a trail down her throat. She didn't drink often and an involuntary shudder racked her body. See what Declan was making her do? Drink.
She eased off the stool. She'd wait for her sisters in the dressing room, maybe not talk to Declan after all. She managed to slip inside the room just as his office door was cracking open.
32
Declan's neck ached from too many hours bent over paperwork. The fact he'd been alerted by Jackie that Phoenix was at the bar was a perfect excuse to take a break. However, the first person Declan made out in the crowd wasn't her.
He turned to Trick, his manager, the man who was supposed to closely monitor his floor. “What is Carragh MacKenna doing here?”
“Slipped by the new guy at the door.” Trick turned hardened eyes his way. “With so many new employees around here, they're clearly not as bought into the cause. Makes it real hard to follow your orders. There's bound to be mistakes, okay?” Lines deepened around his eyes. The man didn't look like he'd slept in a year.
“Everything okay at home?”
He lifted his chin once. “Rachel's been having some early contractions. The doctor said it's nothing to worry about, but first baby and all…”
He sucked in a long breath. “Sorry, man. I'll handle Carragh. You go home. Get some rest.”
Trick nodded. “Thanks.”
Tempers were shortening and nerves were fraying, probably in large part to Carragh leaning against the bar. He watched the stage with extreme interest—too much interest for Declan's taste.
“Carragh, it's time for you to leave.”
The man turned his attention to him for a brief second and then he was back to drinking in the sights onstage—namely, Luna Belle.
He lifted a beer bottle to his lips. His drink of choice was unexpected. “Checking on how your meeting went.”
“Papa didn't tell you?”
“No.” The man straightened and set his beer bottle down on the bar. “Anything you care to share?”
“No.”
He nodded slowly. “By the way, saw Luna Belle and Phoenix Rising out shopping. I hear congratulations are in order to your manager.”
Declan's nostrils flared. “What do you mean?”
“Of course, it was pure coincidence, but it was not unwelcome. Perhaps if you were as friendly as…”
The man wisely shut his mouth. He looked down at Declan's chest, which was one inch from his. He'd strode up to him, ready to haul him out if he had to. Carragh had the gall to appear nonplussed.
“Stay away, Carragh. Or you may have more trouble than you can fathom.”
Well, that got the man's attention. His face shifted—into what, Declan couldn't have said. But he clearly wasn't happy with the mystery of Declan's statement. Carragh's happiness wasn't high on Declan’s list, however. Phoenix and Luna had encountered a MacKenna. Coincidence, his ass.
“See you around, Declan.” The man strode to the door—suddenly and inexplicably.
Declan had touched a nerve, alright. He swiped the black curtain that led to the back room and ran smack into Cherry and Starr. “Phoenix? Heard she came in.”
Starr blinked. “No, she's hanging out in the dressing room.”
Hanging out. Isn't that what he'd encouraged her to do?
“Good. Mind giving us a minute?”
Cherry's lips inched up. “Sure thing.”
“Starr, you feeling better, by the way?”
She shrugged. “Just the flu. I'm okay now. And Phee's ankle seems loads better. She wants to start back tomorrow night.”
“We'll see about that.” Who cared if his statement was arrogant? He was glad she'd be back in Shakedown's orbit, but she had some explaining to do, starting with why he was hearing about her run-in with Carragh from the man himself and not her.
She irked him. Drove him crazy. Made him want to tear his hair out. Damnit, he still fucking loved this red-headed, angry, damaged, gorgeous creature who had kissed him back—twice. She didn't slap him. Which was all it took for his resolve to fill to the brim, even if she had uttered those useful, meaningless words again. There can't be more.
He knocked on the dressing room door.
33
“Come in.” Phoenix sat at her makeup table, toying with her makeup, stacking and rearranging the little pots by size.
“Why didn't you tell me you ran into Carragh?”
She startled. “Declan.” She blinked at him. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, tapping his cane on the inside of his foot.
“Your meeting not go well?” She swiveled to give him a view of her back. Her emotions were all over the map, and dealing with him right now… She couldn't.
“You need to tell me if you ever encounter a MacKenna. Remember?” His voice was strung tight as if holding in his own emotion. Well, join the club.
She shrugged. “Okay. We encountered a MacKenna. Carragh. In a baby store, which was surreal enough.” More than.
“And you didn't call me right away.”
“I’m here, aren't I?”
“Phoenix—”
She faced him when she heard that tone. “Declan,” she gritted out. “You're the one who said he'd never get near us again, and funny how he keeps showing up in our orbit.”
“Like you do at Maxim's? Which you will never step foot near again.” He pushed off the door.
Unbelievable. “Excuse me? You keep telling us not to worry, so right back at you.” Truth was, she was worried—a lot. She'd come to tell him, but his anger would not stand. She swiveled her stool and stared into her mirror. She fluffed her hair a little for a reason she couldn't fathom. The man made her do su
ch stupid things—like let him kiss her, perfectly and wonderfully.
“If anything happened to you…”
“Nothing is going to happen to me.” She rubbed lotion on her hands and finally turned his way again. “You won't let it.”
He took two steps forward. “You playing games with me?”
“No, Declan. Why would you think—” Jesus, maybe he was reaching a breaking point with her. “I-I'm sorry.” God, he was too close. She stood and moved to the garment rack, absently running her fingers over hangers. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I warned Luna away from Carragh. I don't trust him. He's up to something.”
“Yes, he is.”
“Then there's nothing to talk about unless you're going to let me in on your meeting.”
“I'm handling things.”
Handling it. Handling it. That's all she got from him. Well, that and kissing. “How?” She raised her hands and let them fall to her lap. “You have to stop him. They're all I have.”
“They're important to you… and me. But they're not all you have.”
No, she guessed they weren't. Damn his lips.
Remembering their conversation about how she'd protected her sisters… it made her raw inside. Like now he knew some of her secrets. But to be understood so completely wasn't something she was used to beyond Starr and Luna. She'd never had a man talk to her like he had recently—not ever.
And then his kiss! Gah.
He studied her eyes. “Had I known that would make you cry…”
“It's not you.” She waved her hand in the air.
“Who then? I told you, I'll manage Carragh.”
“It's not only that. When I can't work, my mind…” She twirled her finger near her temple. “Conjures up all kinds of things.” Like how she didn't hate him kissing her.
“You were worried about me today.”
“Of course, you're my boss.” She swiped under her eyes.
“Is that all?”
She nodded.
His gaze trailed her body. “How's the ankle?”
Tough Break (The Shakedown Series Book 2) Page 14
