When You Were Mine (Adams Sisters)

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When You Were Mine (Adams Sisters) Page 6

by Byrd, Adrianne


  “You got it.” Ryan forced on a smile and pretended to be amused. “Catch you later.” He pushed opened his door and entered the house.

  “You have a package,” Guadalupe announced, appearing out of nowhere and handing him a FedEx envelope.

  Ryan frowned as he accepted it. “Morning to you, too.”

  “Sorry.” She smiled. “Good morning. Breakfast is ready.” She floated toward the kitchen. “One more day,” she sang.

  Curious, he followed. “What’s with the big grin?”

  Her lips widened. “Don’t you remember what tomorrow is?”

  Ryan quickly sensed a trap. “Monday?”

  “Si.” She marched back over to him and pinched his cheeks. “It is also the night you and my cousin, Maria, are attending that roast for Sydney Poitier.” She touched her forehead and crossed her heart. “That man is still hot.” She cleared her throat. “They call me Mr. Tibbs.” She giggled at her bad impersonation.

  “Is that tomorrow?” His heart dropped¾not because he had to attend the roast, but because he had to escort his housekeeper’s permanently inebriated cousin.

  “Oh, don’t worry.” Guadalupe patted his arm. “She promised to be on her best behavior.”

  Ryan’s brain assessed the excuse file; but before he could rattle one of them off, she waved a finger at him.

  “No excuses.” Her eyes flashed. “You said if you were in town and weren’t dating anyone, you would take her. So, you’ll take her.”

  He clenched his teeth and forced on a smile. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Good. It’s settled.” She patted his arm again and turned. “Besides, you need a wife.”

  “I said I would take her out. Not marry her.”

  “One can lead to the other,” she sang happily. “You’re having French toast this morning.”

  Ryan ripped opened his FedEx package and withdrew an airline ticket. When he read the date, relief bubbled within him. “Aw. Sorry, Guadalupe, but it looks like there’s been a change of plans.”

  She faced him as her eyes narrowed. “What sort of change?”

  “Film production is starting early.” He held up his ticket. “I leave for Milan first thing in the morning.”

  #

  Silence entombed Michael’s car as the sisters rode back to Joey’s apartment. Gone was any taste of revenge from last night shenanigans. Only despair and loss resided in Joey’s heart now.

  “I’m going to write a new screenplay,” Joey announced. “Artists create their best work during depression--Hemmingway, Picasso, Beethoven.”

  “None of those were screenwriters.”

  “Hell, have you seen the crap that’s been coming out in the theaters lately? They’re all products of Prozac and Zoloft cocktails.”

  “If you feel that way about it, why don’t you get out of the biz and just do The Great American Novel or something? You’ve been at this screenwriting thing for years.”

  Joey shrugged and stared gloomily out of the window. “That’s not such a bad idea.” Her thoughts traveled back to Ryan Donovan. Was he really interested in reading some of her work...or was it just another Hollywood line?

  Minutes later Michael pulled to a stop outside Joey’s apartment. “Here you are, kid.” She turned in her seat. “Why don’t we keep what happened last night between us?”

  “Mum’s the word.” Joey laughed and opened the car door. “You know, we never did finish our last conversation.”

  Her sister feigned ignorance, but Joey saw through the charade. “Well, when you’re ready to talk...”

  “Misery loves company?”

  “Something like that.”

  Michael nodded. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

  Joey hesitated and then cocked her head. “Is that a promise?”

  “Yeah.” Michael’s thin smile looked more like a flat line. “It’s a promise.”

  Joey nodded though she remained dubious as she climbed out of the car. The moment she closed the door, Michael pulled away. After the car faded from view, Joey turned toward her apartment. It was no wonder why Michael didn’t want to discuss Joey’s woes with her--her own love life was the toilet.

  Shuffling into the apartment, Joey couldn’t wait to dive into bed. She didn’t want to think about Laurence, screenwriting, or jail--especially jail--ever again. After locking the front door, Joey turned and spotted the flashing red light on her answering machine.

  She hit the play button.

  You have one new message.

  Joey rolled her eyes at the decline of her popularity and kicked off her boots.

  “Hello, Jo-Jo. It’s Laurence...”

  Chapter 9

  Joey reached for the couch and steadied herself at the sound of Laurence’s voice. By the way her knees trembled, she quickly realized she needed to sit down.

  “Joey, are you there? Pick up.” Laurence’s deep exhalation floated over the recorder. “I, uh…oh, hell. I don’t really know where to begin--other than tonight when I saw you…I don’t know.”

  She inched closer to the phone and strained to hear every nuance of his voice.

  “I’m confused,” he admitted. “I thought I’d made the right decision...but now? I’m not so sure. I mean, this is crazy, I leave for Milan tomorrow and...” He sighed. “I think...I still having feelings for you...I mean I still love you and…”

  “Laarrry.”

  Joey jerked and frowned at the familiar purr on the line.

  “I’m coming,” Laurence’s muffled voice called back, but then it turned crystal-clear when he spoke back into the mouthpiece. “Look, Joey. I better go.” There was a long pause before he added. “Bye.”

  End of new messages.

  Joey sank deeper into the couch in stunned silence. She shook her head as hope rose in the center of her chest. He loved her. He said so.

  What about his fiancée?

  A smile crept across her face. He’s having second thoughts. She wasn’t out of the game yet. Joey jumped to her feet, but she halted short of dancing a jig.

  “Milan?” A wave of panic seized her. He called the police station from the airport. “I have to go to Italy.”

  #

  “Adams residence,” Peyton answered the kitchen wall unit as she entered the kitchen. “Oh. Hi, Phil. How’s it going?” Her eyes swept over to the kitchen table where her husband huddled close to her father.

  “Mike?” Peyton frowned and gave the conversation her full attention. “No. Michael is not here. Did she say she was coming down?”

  Phil hedged, but concern filled his voice when he spoke again. “Uh, no. She didn’t say where she was going actually. We, uh, sort of had a little fight yesterday.”

  Peyton turned her back toward the table and lowered her voice. “Is everything okay?”

  “Sure, it was just a little disagreement.” He coughed. “No big deal.”

  She didn’t believe him.

  “I’m sure she’ll turn up any moment now,” he added. “But if she does show up down there, will you tell her to give me a call?”

  “Sure. No problem.” Peyton held the line, waiting to see if he’d add anything.

  “Okay, then I guess I’ll catch you later?”

  “All right. Take care of yourself.” She waited.

  “You, too.” He hung up.

  The dial tone immediately hummed in her ear and she returned the hand unit back to its cradle.

  “Who was that?” Her father asked, looking up from his bowl of Grapenuts.

  “Phil.” Peyton replayed the conversation in her mind and still believed something was terribly wrong.

  “What did he want?” he asked, watching her.

  Not wanting to sound any alarms, Peyton shrugged to downplay her suspicions. “Nothing. He was just looking for Mike. She might be on her way down here.”

  Marlin nodded. “Probably caught wind that her brother was down here.” He chuckled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she had this house bugged.”
r />   “You must be talking about Michael,” Flex said, entering the kitchen with a wide smile and a slow gait.

  Marlin shifted in his chair while Lincoln glared at his brother-in-law.

  “What happened to you?” Peyton asked. “You look like you’re in pain.”

  In the same methodical motion, he retrieved a bowl and the box of cereal. “I had a little incident with Mr. Oak in the backyard.”

  “What kind of incident?”

  “Well, I sort of fell out of it.” He opened the fridge and grabbed the milk.

  “You hauled your big butt up that tree?” Lincoln quaked with laughter. “Now, that would’ve been something I would have liked to see.”

  “Trust me. It couldn’t have come close to seeing you in two in bed,” Peyton retaliated in her brother’s behalf.

  “Or the look on your face when you kissed me this morning,” Flex added.

  “You kissed him?” Peyton thundered in wide-eyed shock.

  Lincoln shrank six inches right before their eyes. “I told you I thought he was Peyton.”

  “First I’m not even going to tell you how much that hurts my self-esteem or my self-image, but how far did you go before realizing he wasn’t me?”

  Lincoln opened his mouth,

  “Wait!” Marlin held up his hands and then pushed back his bowl of cereal. “I don’t want to hear this.”

  “Nothing happened!” Lincoln protested to a dubious looking audience. “I swear.”

  The front door slammed and caught everyone’s attention.

  “Where is he?” Frankie and Sheldon sang. They rushed inside and then screamed when their eyes landed on their baby brother.

  “Oh, I can’t believe it. You’re actually here.” Frankie exclaimed, planting kisses all over his face. “Why didn’t you tell us that you were coming? We could have planned a party.”

  “You just answered your own question.” Flex winced while being pulled from one sister to the other. He went on with his usual pretense of hating the attention, but in truth, he loved it.

  “You know Mike is going to have a fit when she gets here,” Sheldon warned, repositioning in her two-seat stroller. “She takes pride in organizing everyone’s life. Whether they want her to or not.” She rubbed at her belly. “Oh, if this child don’t get off my bladder.”

  “Trouble with baby number five?” Peyton asked, leaning over the stroller to coo at her niece and nephew.

  “Just the usual rigmarole. You’d think that I would be used to this.”

  “You should take a breather,” Frankie said, pulling a chair from the dining room into the kitchen. “You know, take a vacation from mass producing.”

  “She’ll do no such thing,” Marlin piped up, scooting from the chair and then plucking his grandson from the stroller. “Did you forget your mother and I had six children back to back?”

  Sheldon and Lincoln beamed.

  Frankie and Peyton rolled their eyes.

  And Flex simply shrugged.

  “That’s what I thought.” Marlin harrumphed and then returned his attention back to his grandson.

  “So!” Frankie turned attention back to Flex. “Are you seeing anyone new?”

  “Just my husband,” Peyton chuckled.

  “Peyton!” Lincoln colored. “That’s not funny!”

  “Did I miss something?” Frankie asked.

  “Yeah. Whatever it is, it sounds pretty good.” Sheldon gaze bounced around the table.

  “It’s nothing.” Lincoln shot his wife and brother-in-law a lethal glare of warning.

  Frankie leaned over and planted a comforting hand against Lincoln’s shoulder. “When are you going to learn? Nothing stays a secret in this family?”

  Before Lincoln could protest any further, Peyton brought the two sisters up to speed on this morning’s shenanigans.

  “I swear, I thought he was Peyton,” Lincoln kept protesting.

  Peyton jabbed her hands against her hips. “You keep saying that like it’s a compliment or something.”

  Lincoln tried to respond, but only managed to open and close his mouth.

  Flex enjoyed ribbing Linc and was relieved the subject and focus has been shifted from him.

  “So, Flex. You didn’t answer my question. Who are you dating now?”

  Frankie turned her dark, smiling eyes toward him. His luck had run out. “I, uh...” He glanced around the room to see all eyes on him¾including his father’s. He cleared his throat. “I’m single at the moment.”

  “Fabulous!” Frankie clapped her hands. “My hairdresser is a wonderful man and I’ve been telling him all about you.”

  Flex drew a deep breath and rolled his eyes.

  “Wait, wait.” Sheldon held up a finger. “I have the perfect man for him.”

  Peyton laid a comforting hand against his shoulder. It wasn’t really necessary. He’d prepared for this moment ever since he’d decided to come home. And he would likely have to go through it all over again once he traveled up to L.A. to visit Joey and Michael.

  “Actually,” Lincoln cleared his throat and drew everyone’s attention. “I actually know someone.”

  The kitchen fell silent.

  “You know someone for what?” Flex asked cautiously.

  Lincoln’s face reddened as he shifted in his chair. “I, sort of, told a friend, er...this dude about you.”

  The room went silent again for a spell, and then Frankie laughed. “Let me get this straight. You found a date for Francis?”

  Lincoln continued to darken as he nodded.

  Sheldon joined her sister laughing, and Peyton and then Marlin.

  “Well, Lincoln,” Frankie said, admiringly. “You are now an honorary member of The Nosey Sisters’ Network.”

  “Hear! Hear!” Peyton and Sheldon exclaimed.

  Flex slumped back in his chair. “Great. That’s all I needed¾another sister.”

  First thing Monday morning, Joey bolted into Rodeo Drive Cosmetics Surgery Center. As always, the moment she entered the spacious and elegant center she felt like a wart on an extremely large nose.

  She rushed down to the long, polished wooden floor toward the receptionist area, hoping the bright fluorescent lights didn’t highlight her flaws to all the waiting patients sitting in the lobby.

  Suddenly, she thrust up her B-cups and held her chin high. Fake it until you make it, right?

  “Hello, Ms. Adams.” Heidi Olson, another Laurence Benson creation, flashed her powder-blue eyes and fluttered a tight smile. “What can I do for you?”

  Joey wasn’t fooled. Heidi couldn’t stand her guts--and the feeling was mutual.

  “I was hoping to get some information.” Joey stretched her lips wide and hoped it resembled a smile. She would like to the say the young woman’s brows lifted at her at statement, but it seemed her morning Botox shot had her brows permanent stretched in the center of her forehead.

  “What sort of information?”

  “I need to know the name of the hotel Dr. Benson is staying at in Milan.”

  “You mean the hotel that he and his fiancée will be staying at?”

  Humiliation blazed up Joey’s body and scorched the apples of her cheeks. Did the whole office know? “Can you please just tell me the name of the hotel?”

  “Sorry.” Heidi shrugged her shoulders and blinked at her prettily. “That’s confidential information. I can’t help you. But I could make you an appointment¾say, perhaps a breast augmentation?”

  “No need. Breasts were meant to be biodegradable.”

  “Or you can use them to attract yourself a good husband...say a rich doctor even. Maybe you should ask Carlina Leoni?”

  “Or maybe you can kiss my naturally tanned ass.”

  “Ladies, what is going on up here?” Dr. Beverly Bryce hissed under her breath. Her green eyes flashed at both of them in disappointment. “We have patients.”

  Joey liked Beverly. She was a beautiful redhead who could give Nicole Kidman a run for her money.

&nb
sp; “Well?” Beverly asked.

  Joey swallowed her pride. “I need the name of the hotel that Laurence is staying at in Milan.”

  Beverly lifted her chin and then motioned for Joey to follow her.

  Joey glanced at Heidi and gave her a sour smile.

  “I shouldn’t be doing this,” Beverly said, closing her office door behind Joey. “Dr. Benson would probably kill me if he found out I gave you this information.”

  “My lips are sealed,” Joey said anxiously, and pretended to zip her mouth.

  Dr. Bryce’s eyes twinkled. “All right. He’s staying at the Hotel Principe Di Savoli Milano.”

  Joey leaped and enveloped Beverly in a brief hug. “Thanks. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

  Beverly pulled back and smiled. “Good luck. I’m rooting for you.”

  Chapter 10

  “I’ll like a ticket to Milan, Italy.” Joey struggled to still the wild pounding of her heart as she handed the Continental agent her passport and anxiously tapped her fingernails.

  “When will you be returning, Ms. Adams?”

  “When?” She blinked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Uh, I’m not sure.” How long will it take to win Laurence back? “I better make it a one way ticket...for now.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The agent returned his attention to the computer where he typed enough keystrokes for a novel. “Our first available leaves in thirty minutes. I believe I can get you a seat on that one.” He peered back up at her.

  “Perfect.” Joey tempered her excitement and kept her fingers crossed.

  He typed some more. “The only seat available is in first class. Will that be okay?”

  “Sure.”

  After a few menial questions, the agent looked up with a smile. “All right. That will be $2,644.”

  She blinked, and then reached into her purse again to hand over the credit card her sister gave her for emergencies. This is sort of an emergency. Joey’s lips fluttered with a weak smile.

  When the agent swiped the card, a wave of fear rippled through her. How was she going to pay Frankie back? She didn’t have that kind of money.

 

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