by Lisa Ruff
Evan pressed a hand to the top of his head, feeling as if it was going to blow off. This was the most ridiculous conversation he had ever had. Brother and sister? If Antonio only knew. He had to squelch this immediately.
“Listen, Pop. I know that Anna’s decision has upset you, but it’s her decision.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “We can only give her whatever help she asks for.”
“No,” Antonio said calmly. “My Anna is a strong woman. Her mother and I raised her to be so. But she is not in her right mind. Raising a child is not something you do alone.” He held up a hand to stop Evan from protesting. “I know there are many women who do this, but that does not make it right. And besides, they have families to help them. Anna has no one in that city.”
“She has friends,” Evan said lamely.
“It is not the same. Anna chooses to live far away from us. I do not like it, but I cannot force her to return,” Antonio said, sitting back in his chair. “So, I must be sure that the father of her child will support her. This nameless man has a responsibility. He will answer for that.”
Staring at the older man, Evan groped for a counterargument, but there was none to be found. Antonio was right: the father should support Anna and her baby. They needed him, whether she—or he—realized it or not. The past week of restless nights and distracted days had taught him that much.
With a gusted sigh, Evan sat back in his chair. “Okay. I’ll go see her.”
“We will go see her.”
“Pop, I think it’s best if I go alone. I can—”
“I am her father,” Antonio said firmly. “She still has some respect for me.”
“You two in the same room, Pop, sometimes that’s not such a smart thing,” Evan suggested.
“This is true. And it is why I will give you time alone with her.”
Evan knew he was beat. For now, at least. Maybe Elaine could hold Antonio safe at home. “I’ll look into tickets, then.”
“No need. I have already bought them. We leave tomorrow morning.” Antonio stood and went to the coatrack. He pulled out a piece of paper from an inside pocket in his jacket and brought it to Evan. “And we are in luck! I have a cousin there. He owns a restaurant in a section called North Beach. The best Italian food in the city. I have spoken to him and all is arranged. He promises to prepare us a feast to remember.”
Evan suppressed the urge to pound his forehead on the desk. Instead, he took the e-ticket, perused it and set it aside. It seemed he was stuck. The best he could hope for was to keep Antonio on a tight rein and get him there and back with the least collateral damage.
“I guess I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Evan said, completely defeated. He came around the desk to help Antonio back into his coat.
“You are a good son, Evan. Sometimes better than my own.” Antonio had a broad grin on his face. “But better not mention that to Ian and Patricio.” He reached out and embraced Evan heartily, pounding him on the back. “We will save Anna and she will be grateful. You will see.”
Evan hugged the man back, but he could only imitate the enthusiasm halfheartedly. Antonio’s praise was like salt in a wound: in truth, he was the worst son imaginable. The hole he was digging for himself was getting deeper and deeper by the day, too, and telling Antonio the truth seemed more impossible than ever.
HOURS LATER, EVAN SAT on his sofa with a sigh. He was exhausted. After Antonio had gone, Evan had left the showroom in Brett’s capable hands and fled to the gym. He hated working out inside a building, but forced himself through a session with weights and five miles on the treadmill, just to clear his mind. With music blasting in his ears, and his blood pumping, he was able to tune out the world and—most important—his own thoughts.
At home, he took a shower and packed for his flight. It was only overnight, so he didn’t need much. Memories of his last trip to San Francisco tried to creep into his head, but he resolutely forced them back. This journey would be completely different. He fixed an easy meal of pasta and salad, then took a glass of wine into the living room and turned on the television. Preseason football was on—the Ravens versus the Redskins—and he watched the game as a diversion.
The distraction wasn’t working too well when his doorbell rang in the second quarter. Evan was glad for the interruption, but not so eager to entertain surprise visitors. He turned off the television, got up and went down the hall to the door. Ian stood there.
“What do you want?” Evan asked.
“That’s a charming greeting,” Ian said with a grin. When Evan didn’t move, he added, “Are you going to ask me in?”
Evan grunted and stood back, then closed the door behind his friend.
“Man, it’s a wet one out there,” Ian said, shucking his raincoat.
“But you came out anyway,” Even said, eyeing the other man guardedly. “I’ve got a bottle of red open, or there’s a beer in the fridge.”
“Wine’s great, thanks.”
Evan went into the kitchen, grabbed a glass and the bottle, bringing both to the living room where Ian had seated himself on the leather love seat perpendicular to the sofa. He poured the cabernet and topped his own glass before setting the bottle on the coffee table. Sitting in his spot on the sofa again, he raised his glass and said, “Cheers.”
Ian lifted his glass in return and sipped. He pursed his lips appreciatively. “You’ve got faults, McKenzie, but picking a bad wine isn’t one of them. I wish you’d stock Pop’s cellar. That Italian rustico crap he’s been buying lately is awful.”
“Is that why you’re here? A wine tasting?” Evan asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope.” Ian sipped again. “Rumor around the homestead says you’re going to San Fran with Pop tomorrow.”
Evan sank back into the cushions. “That’s the plan.”
Ian nodded. “I hear one of you is twisting Anna’s arm until she reveals who the father is.”
“Ask Pop about that.”
“I did.” Ian gazed over at him for a minute, his dark eyes unreadable. “Now I’m asking you. Since Pop says you know who it is.”
A prickle of fear crept up Evan’s spine. Ian would not be so easy to waylay as Antonio. “I never said that.”
“He’s got a different story.” Ian leaned forward and set his glass on the coffee table. He clasped his hands together in front of him. “When were you going to admit it, Evan?”
Ian’s voice was quiet and held no anger, but there was a thread of steel in it that Evan had heard maybe twice in his life. The other Berzanis were volatile, erupting at a moment’s notice, but not Ian. His anger was controlled and very deliberate. Evan sensed that it was about to be unleashed on him.
“Anna doesn’t want anyone to know,” he said softly. “Anna doesn’t?” The steel grew harder. “What the hell does that matter? You knock my sister up and don’t own up to it? Excuse me, but I’ve got a problem with that.”
“You think I meant to do this?” Evan set his glass down with a crack, ignoring the wine that sloshed out on the table. He got to his feet, unable to stay still. “It was an accident! She was on the pill and it didn’t work and—”
He stopped in front of the window, putting his hands over his face before running them back into his hair. The night outside the windows was dark and featureless, the usual view out onto the Chesapeake Bay shrouded by rain. Behind him, Ian didn’t make a sound. Evan wished he could turn and find the man gone. He didn’t want to see the anger and loathing sure to be on his friend’s face.
Swallowing, Evan turned anyway. “I didn’t want any of this. It just…happened.”
As Ian stared at him, his eyes narrowed. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Evan said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He leaned back against the cold glass. “I tried to talk to her, but…”
“But what?”
“She doesn’t want my money and she doesn’t want my help.”
“Then what does she
want?” Ian asked.
Evan looked down at the floor. “She asked me if I’d marry her,” he said quietly. “And?”
“I said no.”
Ian was silent. Evan heard him pick up his glass and drink, then set it down again. Evan lifted his head and looked over at the other man. “It would be a mistake, Ian. I don’t love her and—”
“Then why’d you screw her?” Ian interrupted with a snap. “She’s not just some woman you pick up and drop, McKenzie. This is my sister we’re talking about. Hell, she’s practically your sister.”
It was Evan’s turn to remain silent. Ian was right and there was nothing he could say to defend himself. Ian rose and began to pace the room between the windows and the bar separating the kitchen from the rest of the space.
“Look,” he said, coming to a stop in front of Evan. “All those years, you had the hots for each other. Everyone could see that.”
“They could not.”
“Don’t fool yourself,” Ian said drily. “Of course they could. But you kept your hands to yourself. I didn’t think you could do it, but you did. So why now, twelve years later? Why couldn’t you keep your pants on?”
All Evan could do was shake his head. “I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Evan straightened and pulled his hands out of his pockets. The knowledge that he had been so transparent grated. Irritation was beginning to rise. He looked Ian directly in the eye, refusing to back down. “Won’t. Anna may be your sister, but she’s a woman, too. I’m not going to tell you why I’m—” He stopped and corrected himself. “Why I was attracted to her. All I can say is that I wasn’t in that bed alone.”
Ian spun away with an oath. “Don’t go there, man.”
“Then don’t ask me to,” Evan said harshly. “Shit, Ian. I’m groping in the dark here. I want to do the right thing, but God help me if I know what that is.”
“And all Anna wants is to get married?”
Evan shrugged. “She asked if I would marry her. She didn’t say if that’s what she wanted.”
“But you said no.”
“We’d both be miserable.” Evan paused. For a moment, he found himself back in the coffee shop, looking at a vacant chair and a half-empty mug of tea. He shook his head firmly. “It’s the wrong reason to get married.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right,” Ian conceded. He sighed, went back to his seat and swallowed more wine. He was silent for a long time, his eyes on the far wall. Evan walked back to the sofa and sat. He picked up his glass, took a deep drink, then put it back down. He didn’t know what else there was to say, so he said nothing.
“When are you going to tell Ma and Pop?”
Evan winced. “Soon. I have to talk to Anna first.”
“So that’s why you’re going with Pop?”
“Partly,” Evan said with a snort of laughter. “Partly to keep him from going off half-cocked. I tried to stop him, but he’d already bought tickets.”
“He’s pretty determined to fix things for her.” Ian looked over at Evan. “He’s going to be pissed when he finds out about you and Anna, you know. Delay’s just going to make him madder.”
Evan nodded. Truer words had never been spoken. He leaned forward and picked up his glass again, but didn’t drink. The spilled wine had almost dried and left a ring on the wood, darkening it. He absently traced the circle of wet with one finger.
“How’d you figure it out?” He glanced at Ian briefly, then back down. “About Anna and me.”
“I didn’t actually know for sure until tonight. I suspected something was going on between you two that day we all met.”
“What? How?”
“You didn’t tease her even once, McKenzie. You always tease Anna and it stuck out when you didn’t.” Ian shrugged. “Then Pop said she was pregnant and I did the math, but I wasn’t sure. It seemed too crazy to be true.”
“I’ll say. I still can’t believe it.”
“Look, you want some advice?”
“Not especially.”
Ian cleared his throat. “The way I see it, you guys have been headed here for a long time. Since she was in high school.”
“Trust me, I haven’t been headed here,” Evan said decisively. “No way was a baby in my plans.”
“You know what I mean. Why not see where it takes you?”
Evan laughed. “This is not a road either of us wants to take. It was just a…” He hesitated, not wanting to piss Ian off again. “A detour that I think we both regret.”
“Do you? Really?”
Evan didn’t hesitate. “Definitely.”
Ian drained the last of his wine and stood up. “Well. I’ve got to go.”
“That’s it? You’re not going to beat my brains in?”
“Not tonight,” Ian said with a chuckle. “Maybe after Anna gets done with you.”
Evan stood, following him down the short hall to the front door. Ian grabbed his coat and put it on. When he turned back to Evan, his face was serious. “You need to take care of this Evan. A kid needs a father. And that’s not just because she’s my sister, but because it’s the right thing to do.”
“I’d already figured that out,” Evan agreed irritably.
“Hey, man, don’t get so defensive,” Ian said as he pulled the door open. He paused in the doorway, then turned back. “You might want to review how you got here, though. Not the pregnancy part, but why after all this time, you and Anna took that ‘detour’ together.”
“I told you, it was just a…an impulse.”
“Were you both drunk?”
“No.”
“Okay. And you both could pass for intelligent adults. So what tipped you over the edge?”
Ian’s dark eyes seemed to bore into his brain; they were too much like Anna’s for comfort at this moment. Evan didn’t flinch under the stern regard, but remained silent. He just lost control, that’s all it was.
“Love’s a funny thing,” Ian said, a slight smile turning up one corner of his mouth. “When you least expect, it sneaks up on you.”
“I told you, I don’t love Anna. I don’t love any woman.”
“Well, I guess you should know.” With that, Ian stepped outside and closed the door.
As he stared at the space where his friend had stood, a shiver ran over Evan’s skin. It was just the cold, damp night air, he told himself. Ian had no idea what was going on between him and Anna. He was married and happy and applied that bandage to heal all the world’s problems.
Going back into the living room, Evan picked up his glass and swallowed the last of the wine in it. He put the glasses and bottle in the kitchen, then cleaned up the spill on the coffee table. Turning off the lights, he went upstairs to his bedroom. He was tired and decided to turn in early; tomorrow would be a long day.
Lying in the darkness, Evan rehashed his whole encounter with Ian. It hadn’t been as bad as he had feared. Ian had been angry, but he hadn’t slugged him or even terminated their friendship. But, then, Ian wasn’t Patrick. And certainly not Antonio. Sighing, Evan closed his eyes, forcing himself to sleep. Tomorrow he would face Anna again. Maybe they could come up with a common solution for their mutual problems. One that didn’t entail losing the best family he had.
Chapter Nine
“All right. I’ll make the changes and have revised plans to you by next week. Thanks. Bye.”
Anna cradled the phone receiver and made a few more notes on her set of drawings. She glanced up as Carl walked into her office, motioning with one hand to silence him before he could speak. When she had finished writing down her thought, she looked up with a smile.
“Sorry. If I stop in the middle, I lose it.”
“A great idea might be lost forever.” He came to stand beside her at the drafting table. “Artie said to tell you to check your in-box. He sent the specs for Creekmore to you a few minutes ago.”
“Oh, good. He was quick. I’ll pass them on to Engstrom so they can get their number
s together.”
“How’re things going?”
Anna leaned an elbow on the table, twirling a pen between her fingers. “Arcata has slowed since the client’s at a wedding this week in Palm Beach. I have a meeting up there next Tuesday to go over preliminaries. The Clairemont is out to bid and Houston is bickering with the contractor on the final punch list.”
“Problem?”
“Only if those crazy Texans reach for their rifles,” Anna said with a grin. “I’m mediating and they’re working it out. We’ll get it settled.”
“And my favorite architect?” Carl’s eyes were kind, his tone concerned. “How’s she doing?”
“Your favorite architect is Ken Allsop,” Anna said, shaking the pen at him. “But that’s probably because you sleep with him.”
“Okay, how’s my second favorite architect?” Carl admitted with a laugh.
Anna shrugged. “She’s fine.”
“Morning sickness?”
“That’s doing just fine, too, thank you very much.”
Carl winced. “Bad, huh?”
“I get up, I throw up and I eat dry toast. It’s usually gone by midmorning.” Anna laughed at herself. “I have yet to lose it on a client, so I think I’m beating the odds.”
“Great, so I’m the only one who’s experienced the pleasure.”
“You hated that tie anyway. I never knew why you wore it.”
“It was a gift.” Carl’s eyes danced with humor. “From Ken’s mother.”
Anna stared at him for a moment, then let out a peal of laughter. “You should thank me, then. I did you a favor.”
“Um, no,” Carl said, shaking his head. “That was not a favor.”
They both laughed.
Anna remembered how horrified she had been when she had lost it all over her boss the day she returned from Crab Creek. After cleaning up—and her profuse apologies—Carl had coaxed the truth out of her. Anna had magnified her embarrassment by crying all over him. Carl had patted her back and offered tissues. When she was calm again, he had offered to help in any way he could.