Double Trouble

by Deborah Cooke

  Too bad I hadn’t worn something really skimpy, just to tick James off. I slouched harder, knowing that perfect posture was a household holy grail. “You should be more gracious to the one doing your dirty work.”

  The man glowered at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your kids called me from the pool when no one picked them up.”

  James flicked a glance up the stairs, some parental part of him clearly reassured by the ruckus coming from the bathroom. “Where’s Marcia?”

  “Where were you? Takes two for the fun part. Why should one be left with all the work after that?”

  See? There is some residual instinct to defend your other half when you’re a twin. Probably more of it was due to his assumption that someone else - someone female - would pick up the details of his life.

  As if his kids weren’t his problem. Grrr.

  But the man of stone surprised me. James shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, leaving it uncharacteristically rumpled.

  His next words were just as uncharacteristically emotional. “God, you two are exactly the same. Who would have guessed. Now, I’m to blame for airline traffic stacking up over Logan.”

  James didn’t wait for an answer. He just chucked his coat in the general direction of a chair and dropped briefcase and suit bag on either side of himself. The overcoat slid to the floor and he didn’t pick it up.

  Marcia would freak.

  Well, if she had been here, she would have freaked but she wasn’t so I guessed she wouldn’t.

  James didn’t look like he cared. It was unlike him to not put me right in my place - i.e. elsewhere - but he seemed to be out of steam. “But what the hell - blame me for the cloud cover and the delays out of LaGuardia, too.” He flung out his hands. “Everything else is my fault around here.”

  He shoved past me, loosening his tie as he headed into the kitchen. He still wore the same cologne and I still liked it, though I’d die before I admitted such a weakness.

  I thought he looked as down as a guy could look, until he scanned the empty counters in the pristine kitchen and his face fell a little further. “I don’t suppose there’s anything to eat?”

  I shrugged. “I dunno. I just got here. Maybe the caterers are late.”

  He fired one of those quick incisive glances my way, the ones I always forget are in his arsenal. I jumped a bit, just like I usually do, and he shook his head. The steam seemed to go out of him then, as though that one glance had emptied his stores.

  James really must be running low. “Sorry you had to pick up the slack, Maralys.” The edge was gone from his voice. “It’s a long ride out from the city.”

  Sympathy? From James?

  I blinked and stared at him, wondering whether this was some kind of joke.

  He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets before meeting my gaze steadily. “I know the family shtick isn’t your thing. Thanks for stepping in.”

  It seemed harmless to soften a little bit towards him. I’m not the kind of person to kick someone when they’re down, after all. Well, not often. I’ve been there, seen the view, and know it’s a bitch. “Sorry you had a bad travel day.”

  We eyed each other warily, then he reached for his wallet. “What was the fare?”

  For a moment, I considered the merits of being proud and shrugging off his offer. James must have guessed the reason for my hesitation, because he almost smiled when he offered those twenties to me.

  “Take the money, Maralys. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my kids and I know you work at night. I can’t give you back the time, so at least let me cover the fare.”

  It was not the kind of understanding I expected from the courtroom shark. His tone, too, was suspiciously compassionate. I wondered which particular aliens had seized my real brother-in-law and left an overwrought decoy in his place.

  “You feeling all right?” I demanded as I took the cash and squirrelled it into my pocket.

  “No, but since when does that matter?” James didn’t seem to expect an answer, which was good because I didn’t have one to that. He turned away, then straightened suddenly.

  Obviously, he had spotted the note. This would have been a tactful moment to disappear, but then, disappearing would have proven that I knew what the note said.

  I strove to look innocent. Not that it mattered - no one was looking at me. James pursed his lips and stared at the envelope, without making any move to cross the room, much less to read it. He didn’t seem to need to open it to know what it said.

  Okay, so things had been really bad around here.

  He didn’t even look at me when he finally walked to the fridge. He opened the envelope with resignation, clearly unsurprised by its contents, then chucked it on the counter.

  Like scrap. “You read it?”

  “Me? What kind of a person do you think I am?”

  James laughed then, though it wasn’t a merry ho ho ho. “I know what kind of person you are, Maralys. Of course you read it.” He winked at me so unexpectedly that I jumped. “I would have read it too. Do the boys know?”

  After that, it seemed pointless to lie. “I sent them straight upstairs before I saw it. They’re doing the wash and jammies thing.”

  James nodded once, crisply, a man who had made his decision and was seizing control of his universe once more. “Right. Thanks for stepping in. I appreciate your trouble. Why don’t you call another cab and get back to the city?” He reached into his wallet and tossed me another couple of twenties, then left the room.

  Maybe it was because I was used to the kind of men who expect you to fix everything for you that this dismissal annoyed me so much. Maybe it was because I liked what I saw and my sister didn’t, yet he was waiting for her. Doesn’t matter. I said it anyway.

  “Be still, my foolish heart,” I muttered as I folded the money. “All this appreciation is going to go straight to my head.”

  I didn’t think James would hear me, but I was wrong.

  He whirled in the hall and I took a step back. Raptor on the attack. His eyes were flashing and his jaw was set. “What the hell do you expect, Maralys? An monogrammed thank-you note hand delivered to your door?”

  He strode back to the kitchen before I could say anything - which is a feat, in case you aren’t sure - as ticked as I’ve ever seen him. The man was definitely was on a roll, or had come to the boil. He was seriously pissed off and looked, if you must know, a lot more virile than when he was in command of all the variables.

  Oh, and I got another whiff of that cologne. Something in me that had been asleep for a while woke up but quick.

  Then it roared.

  James, however, didn’t notice that.

  “In case you missed it,” he said with crisp enunciation, “my wife - and your sister - just walked out of here, destined for points unknown. She’s left me, my kids don’t know and won’t understand, and, oh yes, I still need to go to work in the morning and try to save some twice-convicted crack dealer from a third conviction. Don’t expect me to fall on my knees in gratitude here, Maralys. I don’t have the time or the inclination.”

  I faced him down. “You chose your profession, sport. Don’t look to me for sympathy.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Do not go there, little miss bleeding heart. You can’t begin to know…”

  “Oh, cry me a river, James. Why don’t you hire someone to fix your troubles? Isn’t that the usual solution around here? Someone to clean, someone to cook, someone to garden - book a hooker and you won’t miss Marcia at all!”

  His features set. “Not funny, Maralys.”

  “But true, all the same. You’re not defending a crack dealer and I know it as well as you do. What would you be - the number three criminal lawyer in the city? You’ve got to be making what, seven figures? Eight in a good year? You’ve got all sorts of fancy clients paying big bucks for your silver tongue and oh boohoohoo, you’re not having everything go your way today.” I clutched my chest. “It wounds me, i
t really does.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about…”

  “Oh, but I do. My dipshit sister has left you, a bonus no matter how you slice that pie. You’ve got two great healthy kids upstairs, somewhat against the genetic odds I might add. This house is big enough to house a family of twenty and wait, I forget, are there three or four German luxury sedans in the garage?” I patted his arm even though I knew damn well that he was seething. Talk about tickling the dragon’s belly. “Poor baby. I don’t know how you drag yourself out of bed in the morning.”

  His lips thinned. “You made your choices, too, Maralys.”

  “But you’ll notice that I’m not the one looking for a pity party.”

  “Fair enough.” James leaned in the doorframe, so suddenly relaxed that I didn’t trust him. Not at all. I took a step back. “Sorry to break your record, Maralys, but this time you’ve got it all wrong. Your sister did the only sensible thing I’ve ever seen her do - she bailed out of a sinking ship.”

  I made no comments about rats. You should be proud of me.

  I did laugh though. “Sinking? This? Don’t tell me you haven’t been prudent with your assets, James. What kind of a moronic investment banker do you have?”

  James shook his head. “No banker, no bad investments.” He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and surveyed me, daring me to figure it out. I was trying, but no luck.

  What the hell was going on here?

  He spoke quietly, but his eyes were still too dark. “Just bad blood.”

  “Bad blood? Where? Not my sister - our genetic strings are perfect, if I do say so myself.”

  “Nope, not Marcia.”

  “You?” I snorted. He was pulling my chain, there was no doubt about it. “You’re the straightest shooter I’ve ever met in my life, every mama’s dream for her little girl.” I tweaked his lapel, knowing he had more bucks invested on his back than I had in my closet. Maybe more than I’d ever owned. “Check out the suits and the Italian shoes. Lalala. Bad blood, my ass.”

  “Wrong, Maralys.” That exhaustion claimed his features again and I felt more sorry for him than I should have done. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

  “Bull. You’ve got everything going for you. You’re not going to make me feel sorry for rich and successful James Coxwell.” I picked up the receiver to call a cab.

  James put his thumb on the rest, breaking the connection. I could feel him right behind me, the heat from his skin pressing against my own. It was tough to take a breath. He was close, too close, and smelled too goddamned good.

  And truth be told, I was enjoying myself. It’s not often I meet someone who gives as good as they get. Nothing like a worthy sparring partner. I was all tingly for more than one reason.

  Lust, my cookie, is not just about physical stimulation. Engage the mind and oh boy, things get mucho hot. They were toasty right about now. I could have wrapped my tongue around this boy’s tonsils and enjoyed it thoroughly - from the heat wave of tension emanating from him, I guessed that I might not be alone in that urge.

  Interesting.

  “Well, how about this?” James’ face was right beside mine, his eyes glittering. “My father is ousting me from the partnership in his own subtle but effective way. I’m losing it all and your sister knew it. That’s why she left.”

  It wasn’t just his proximity that shut me up. This was a choice bit of news.

  I stared at him, incredulous, noticing all the hues in his eyes. He has hazel eyes, James does, and they change from gold to green to grey. Right now, I could see all the slivers of color, the star of dark gold around his pupils, as well as the thickness of his lashes.

  He was looking at me, hard, challenging me to challenge him and it just about stopped my heart. My brain, mercifully, kicked into gear and ran.

  Everyone knew that James was the pride and joy of Judge Robert Coxwell, as well as his hand-chosen successor. James was partner in his father’s legal practice and had benefited from his father’s connections. He’d also worked damn hard to get to where he was - I knew that because my sister had bitched about his long hours for years. And he’d played to his daddy’s rules for as long as I could remember.

  Despite myself, I wanted to take his side on this one. “No.”

  “Yes, Maralys.” James bit out the words, his bitterness clear. “Oh, yes. I really am defending two-bit hoods these days.” He shook his head, then rolled his eyes. “And oh, I have the pathetic billings to show for it.” He walked back across the kitchen, peeled off his jacket and slung it over a chair.

  I went after him. “But that’s nuts. You are good at what you do - whatever value to society it is to get big-time crooks free.”

  James chuckled and leaned against the counter, looking more relaxed for having spit out the truth. “Thank you. I think.”

  “So, what gives?”

  “Luck of the draw,” was what he said, then looked away, but I knew even then that there was more to it than that.

  “Bullshit.”

  James looked me in the eye then, considering. “My father’s brought my brother Matt into the practice.”

  “But I thought Matt did real estate law?”

  “He did. He’s changing specialties.” One brow lifted as if daring me to believe what he was going to say even though he spoke with deceptive mildness. “Matt’s going to be the new courtroom star.”

  “By winning those big nasty cases?” I rolled my eyes. I’d met his bookish brother and couldn’t see it happening. “I don’t think so. Matt could never be a shark like you.”

  James’ lips quirked. “Two almost-compliments in one evening. You’re losing your touch, Maralys.”

  I smiled at him, I couldn’t help it. He has a nice dimple.

  Not that it mattered to me. “Hey, well, you know how I like to back an underdog. Looks like you’ve joined the ranks.”

  He sobered and sighed, frowning again at kitchen as if he could conjure food by will alone. “Don’t I know it.”

  James needed a good hard kick and I was just the one to give it to him. I leaned on the counter beside him and sighed. “You poor old bastard. Is this what I have to look forward to at the ripe old age of forty-two? Hey, you might as well chuck it in. Drive that big ol’ sedan right into the Atlantic and call it quits. Leave me the Cuisinart, would you?”

  He looked down at me and smiled then, a teasing smile that didn’t last nearly long enough. “You really are a little pitbull, aren’t you?”

  “Live and learn. When life gives you lemons and all that.” I nudged him, enjoying this unexpected moment of conviviality. “I’ve got to tell you that I make a mean jug of lemonade. Experience is the key.”

  James grinned and that dimple took my breath right clean away. “I bet you do,” he murmured and there was something other than animosity in the air.

  “Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” I chattered. “That’s my theme song.”

  “No wonder you’re so tough.” There was admiration in his voice, unexpected admiration and I felt myself blush.

  Blush! It was a bit too cozy for me, thanks. I was having palpitations but knew damn well that the last person on the planet I needed nookie from was James Coxwell. Talk about losing my pointer. The man was wrong for me in just about forty-five thousand ways.

  Each and every one of them independent of the fact that he was married to my sister.

  I stepped away and put my hands on my hips, just to show that my shields were up. “But this thing with Matt and the partnership. It’s not fair.”

  James watched me, his voice hard and his expression inscrutable. “But that’s how it is.”

  I understood that there were a lot of things James wasn’t going to tell me, because telling them to me wouldn’t change their outcome. For whatever reason, James wasn’t the star rainmaker at his partnership anymore. Maybe he lost one too many big cases, maybe it was something else.

  Either way, he was no longer the apple of
his father’s eye. Well, I could relate to that, even if I might have preferred otherwise. Trick was that I had never been the apple of my father’s eye, but had the bonus of being able to contrast his response to my twin to his treatment of me.

  James was right in saying that the exact reason for his fall from grace didn’t matter.

  I didn’t know what to say. We stared at each other, a whole lot of understanding telegraphing back and forth, at least when it didn’t get choked out by the sizzle. I swallowed and he watched my throat move.

  “Maralys…” He took a step toward me, then chaos erupted from the stairs in a most timely fashion.

  The boys had realized that he was home. They descended upon the kitchen and much family mayhem ensued. It got a bit cuddly for me but James noticed that I was starting to twitch. He called me a cab and watched from the doorway until I was safely inside, in that old-fashioned protective male way that isn’t all bad.

  My gaze slipped over the trophy house as the cab pulled from the curb and I thought that maybe I understood why my sister had left. The goodies were going away - and James Coxwell without his money hadn’t been enough to persuade Marcia to stay. She’d always liked good things and good living, and a man who couldn’t supply them, well, just didn’t interest her.

  It was that simple. We slipped through the affluent neighborhood, past the horse farms, past the long winding driveways with distant lights partly obscured by trees, and I wondered how many other tasteful entries hid similar stories.

  I had a funny feeling that Marcia, not atypically, had it all wrong. Even though he wasn’t my type, James Coxwell’s bank account wasn’t his only asset.

  See? I’m a sucker for a dimple.

  But what I didn’t realize then was that the exact reason for the change in James’ circumstances did matter, it mattered a lot.

  Which was why, of course, he kept it to himself.

  * * *

  Subject: this must be love!