by Cari Quinn
“He’ll be down in a little while. He had a phone call.”
Simon rolled his eyes. More like appeasing the latest mistress because she didn’t rate a Christmas visit.
Margo’s shoulders stiffened.
He swallowed a sigh and moved behind her to take her coat. He pitched his voice low. “You look stunning. Did I tell you that today?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “No.”
“You do. Like a Christmas present made especially for me.”
Her lips twitched. “Wait till you see what’s under the dress.”
“You keep teasing me. I still didn’t get to see my Christmas present you talked about at the lodge.”
“You’re the one that had to get hurt in the snowball fight.”
“You’re the one that knocked me off the mountain.”
“Oops?”
“Yeah, I’ll give you oops.” He hustled her into the great room. Time to make nicey-nice with Jayne. God help him.
23
Margo
“Juliet? It’s time for dinner.” Margo called up the stairs.
No answer.
She curled her fingers around the silky wood of the banister. “Where the hell did she go?”
“She’s in the music room, Miss Margo.”
She twisted around at Truman’s voice. “Oh. I thought she was going upstairs to change.”
Truman gave her an indulgent smile. “You know Miss Juliet. She got distracted.”
“A lot of truth right there.” She patted the older man’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He bowed a little and Margo couldn’t stop herself from going onto her toes and kissing his papery cheek. He flushed a little, but leaned into the easy affection.
Truman had never been just a butler to them. He’d been a confidant where their parents just couldn’t ever be. They just weren’t built for it. For a long time she hated her parents because of that, but now it was easier to see that she’d simply been lucky to have the indulgent pseudo-uncle in her life.
She crossed the room and through a formal sitting room and then a fussy tea room which she always hated. The wallpaper alone made her twitchy. Who actually wanted linen cabbage roses wallpaper on any wall ever?
Increasing her pace, she finally found the music room. It had been the center of the house for years. Between herself and Juliet there had been much showing off through their teen years. She’d stuck with the violin, while her sister had an uncanny ability to play just about anything.
It was frustrating sometimes—especially since her sister barely cared to keep up with an instrument. She got bored so very quickly. Another reason she was so reticent to have her sister fill in for the bassist in Warning Sign.
What if she got bored again?
Actually, not even a what if. She would—it was just a matter of time. She didn’t want to disappoint her best friend yet again. Not that she had control over the men and women in her life, but if she could steer her sister away from the idea of joining a band maybe she could keep a little heartache at bay.
She didn’t want Lila to be at the mercy of another pain in the ass Reece on her roster. Margo had twenty three years of disillusionment to get used to Juliet’s antics. Lila already had a parade of people walking in and out of Warning Sign. She didn’t need one more stressor in her life.
Especially with how Lila had been acting lately.
She peeked inside. Not a trace of her sister. A piano filled more than half of the room. On the far side of the room was a glass case with her first violin and her grandmother’s flute. A series of phonograms lined special built-ins. Her father and grandfather collected them.
The scent of beeswax polish and the faint hint of chicory smoke brought back a deluge of memories. How many nights had she listened to Vivaldi with her grandfather when she was a child? No talking, just music. It had been one of the few things she’d shared with him. Otherwise he was just as warm and approachable as her mother.
She shook off the heavy tendrils of memory lane. “Jules?”
“Back here, Mags.”
She stepped around the secretary desk with a disturbingly lifelike bust of her great-grandmother and found her sister sitting in front of the closet. “What the hell are you doing all the way back there?”
Juliet was curled on her side, one of her boots pointing to the ceiling, the other tucked under her butt. “Look what I found.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You kept that?”
Juliet cradled the mahogany Gibson bass. “Jeremy Buckingham had exactly two things going for him. He was distantly related to Lindsey Buckingham, and he played bass. Oh, and he wanted in my pants so bad he gave me this.”
Margo dragged over the club chair behind the harpsichord jammed in the corner. No way she was getting on the floor in her dress. Talk about tight around the butt. “That’s a terrible story.”
“You didn’t get a custom Gibson out of the deal. I would have slept with him anyway. Well, there wasn’t any sleeping involved. He did have the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen. True story.”
“Wow. So didn’t need to know that.”
“Come on. You know how it is. You’ve got the Magnum of cocks locked up.”
“And how do you know that? He could be all looks and charm.”
Juliet snorted. “Not with the bliss face I caught on you at the lodge.”
“Again, that doesn’t have anything to do with a…”
“Cock. You can say it. Dick, trouser snake, manaconda—wait, wrong rockstar.”
Margo put her head in her hands. “I’m not discussing this with you.”
“No discussion needed. Besides, I’ve seen his photo shoots with that Roman dude. Unless they’re stuffing his leather pants with socks—you, my dear sister, have won the lottery of cock.”
“How did we get on this subject?” Margo asked desperately. And for the love of God, could she stop saying cock.
“Right, Jeremy’s magnificent cock with a side of perfect bass guitar.” Juliet slapped the body of the electric bass. “This beauty right here was my bonus round. Now, Jeremy may have had a super pretty slice of paradise between his legs, but he was a one and done guy. So, my infatuation didn’t last much past that first night.”
“Why do you insist on telling me these things?”
Juliet’s laughter pealed out. “Because it makes you so uncomfortable.”
“Gee thanks.”
“You’d think you would be immune to it living with that god, and yet still blushing.”
“Can we stop talking about my hu—guy like that?”
“Why can’t you say husband?”
“I can.”
“Right. You stumble over it every time.”
“Can we just talk about the bass please?”
“Oh, we will, don’t you worry. We’re just going to take a little side trip into the husband thing. I thought you guys did the whole ceremonial tagging thing.”
“Tagging?”
“You know, do you? Yes. Do you? Yes. Ring and big kiss. No contract. Just for you guys.”
“We did.” Margo remembered every piece of that night. Just them on the bridge looking over the Seine as they promised each other forever. “And it was really lovely.”
“In Paris of all places. Of course me and Paris don’t exactly get along.”
Margo raised her brow. “Because of the two arrests, or the fact that you’ve been banned from the Saint James hotel?”
“We’re not going to talk about that.”
“Right. Of course not.”
“Come on, Mags. Don’t be like that. It was another life.”
“Last year was another life?”
“Yeah. I was bored.”
“So, you’re going to do the same thing with Warning Sign too? When you get bored, you drive a motorcycle through the the lobby. You can’t do that with a band. You have a label to answer to.”
She waved her words away. “I was drunk.”
/> Like that made it better? “And that’s why you were arrested.”
“I don’t do that anymore. Much.”
Margo sighed. Much. At least she had a qualifier. “Look, Lila is my best friend. I just don’t want you to…”
Her smile fell away. “Pull a Jules?”
Yes. But the look on her sister’s face made her swallow back the words.
“I know you think I’m just a fuckup, but I really want this, Mags.” She rolled onto her knees and set the bass back into the case before crawling over to her. “I’ve been drifting from party to party forever. I want something real. And when I met Michael and Molly, it felt good. So good.”
“And that’s not just because Michael is seriously hot?”
“Nah. He’s not my type. He’s hot, that’s for damn sure, but I’ve been there done that.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “What?”
Juliet laughed and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “No, not him. But he’s exactly the kind of guy I’ve always been with. Besides, he’s a white hat.” She shrugged. “I’d crush him.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“You know. Hero complex. He wants to be the guy. The one that makes everything okay.”
Her sister was distressingly on target with Michael’s assessment. He did want to make everything better, but he was also a horny twenty-something year old. And Juliet had a problem keeping her jeans on. No matter what she said.
Margo often wished she could be as free as her sister. To actually embrace life and grab whatever she wanted. Oh, she had in her own way. Simon was definitely not the guy she’d seen herself with when she imagined a future.
Hell, she didn’t imagine herself finding anyone. But she had—and he might not be perfect, but he was perfect for her.
Juliet grabbed her hands. “I want to be in the band. I don’t care about hooking up with anyone in the band. I just want to play. I used to be pretty good at the bass.”
“You’re pretty good at every damn thing you pick up.”
Her sister grinned. “Yeah, well I can hear the way the music is supposed to be. It’s like static in my head for a few minutes then it evens out and I find the melody. But with the bass it’s like a layer that vibrates under the song, pulls it all together.”
She tilted her head. “Yeah. Deacon is much the same. Steady and ever present.”
“Who would’ve thunk I could be the steady?”
Margo didn’t want to say it. Not when a rare uncertainty bled into her eyes. She squeezed her sister’s hands. “You understand music a lot more than most. It’s an asset. A really good one in a band.”
“So you’re cool with it?”
She was as far from cool with it as Brazil in high summer, but she had to trust that if Juliet was meant to be in Warning Sign then it would happen. And if the band didn’t want her, she’d be there to dust her sister off.
But if the vibes between her and Molly at Christmas were to be believed, then she was already in. God help Lila.
“I think it’ll be awesome.”
“Now you sound like Simon.”
“Well, I do live with him.”
“That you do. Someday I’m going to have a bangin’ condo just like you do, by the way.”
“Yeah, well, you know you’re always welcome.”
“I know.” Juliet gave her a quick hug. “I just have to call ahead because seriously you two are like bunnies all the damn time.”
“Like you can talk.”
Her sister twisted around and snapped the locks shut on the bass case. “It’s been a bit of a dry spell lately.”
Margo groaned. “Try not to get naked with someone in Warning Sign.”
“Didn’t we just go over this?” She stood with the case in hand. “Besides, that’s how you found Mr. Perfect.”
“I guess I can’t really say a damn thing, huh?”
“Um, no.”
They walked through the music room and back into the study. When Juliet took a left Margo backtracked. “Where are you going?”
She held up the bass as she took the stairs two at a time. “Gotta put this away.”
“You’re leaving me to deal with Mother alone?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Wimp,” she called after her sister.
“I believe smart is the correct term.”
Margo whirled back around and hauled ass into the living room. Simon was in seated in a wingback chair, his hands were draped over the mahogany and cream arms. A whiskey glass dangled from his fingers.
A very empty whiskey glass.
Well, that was perfect.
She hadn’t been gone that long had she?
“Nice of you to join us, Margo.” Her mother’s voice was clipped and cool.
She pressed her lips together before sailing into the room. “Just a little trip down memory lane with Juliet.”
“Where is your sister?”
She spared a glance at Simon. Instead of looking repentant, he lifted the glass to her in a toast, then finished it off. Margo returned her attention to her mother. “She went to bring something upstairs.”
“Upstairs is the place to be.” Simon hefted himself out of the chair to the small wet bar. “Just what’s going on up there, hey?”
“Simon.” She crossed to him and tried to extricate the glass, but he held it up over her head.
“It’s your father’s private stock. Special occasion and all, darling.”
She winced. He never called her that nickname. “He should be down in a few minutes and we can eat.”
“Thomas has an emergency surgery scheduled.”
“Since when?” Margo challenged. “He doesn’t even practice anymore.”
“He has to fill in for others on holiday.”
“Right. Imagine that. Boston General? Or perhaps a private residence in Cambridge?”
Her mother turned to the window and looked out into the back of the house. “He’s doing what he needs to do.”
“What about you, mother? What do you need to do?”
Her mother’s shoulders hunched and her fingers shook around her wine glass. “I’m right where I need to be.”
Margo’s fist came down on the bar. The glasses and crystal decanter clattered together. “Why isn’t he where he should be? And why do you let him get away with it.”
Her mother turned to her, the veneer back in place. “You wouldn’t understand what happens in a marriage.”
No, she really wouldn’t. And that’s why she bucked at the thought of one for so long. Did a marriage really mean that someone had the right to hurt you just because you’d tied yourself to them in a contract?
She glanced down at her own ring and the promises she’d made to this man who endured holidays and various dinners with her because he loved her. Certainly not because he loved her family.
Sometimes she wondered if she even loved her family anymore.
Was it only loyalty that kept her there?
Simon had moved closer to her when she’d had her inner snit. Anger roiled through her. This wasn’t what Christmas should be. Before today her holiday had been filled with laughter and her real family.
And she’d come here out of a sense of misplaced loyalty.
The idea that her father had a surgery today was laughable. Maybe once upon a time when she was a kid and he was the leading surgeon in his cardiac field, but now he was just a fading legend. Now he used his past glory to make excuses to the woman he’d professed to love once upon a time.
Her father professed his love in grand gestures over the holidays, but even those had faded with each passing year. Now he barely pretended to try. If love meant a wandering eye, she didn’t want any part of it.
Her anger drained away as she curled her left hand into Simon’s right. He frowned down at her, his face wary. His bloodshot eyes told her of the pain he was feeling, of the misery that her mother caused with silent judgement.
She understood it. She’d lived u
nder its thumb for years.
No more.
Not this Christmas. Maybe not ever again.
She led him out of the room.
“Where are you going?” Her mother’s voice chilled. “Cook is serving dinner.”
Margo watched Simon for a reaction, pleased when he suddenly grinned. “Do you care?”
“I’m good with McDonald’s.”
She nearly laughed out loud. They’d be lucky if even that was open this late on Christmas Eve. She crossed the great room to the foyer and up the stairs. Her sister was on her way back down.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re leaving.”
“We are?”
“We are?” Simon echoed.
Margo stopped on the stairs. “Feel free to come to my house, Jules, but I’m not staying here.”
Juliet’s eyebrows shot up. Her gaze shifted to the bottom of the stairs where their mother stood with her arms crossed, then back to Margo. “What the hell did I miss?”
“Your sister has lost her mind.”
Margo’s grip tightened around Simon’s hand. When he laced their fingers and squeezed back, she gulped down a panicked breath. No, she was finally thinking on her own. Finally ready to reach for something better than she’s had growing up.
24
Simon
Simon urged her up the stairs. Now that they were actually moving he was definitely on board with this plan. He just wished he hadn’t had that second scotch-hold-the-water.
Juliet stayed on the landing between the two flights of stairs. Her usual bravado and give ‘em hell attitude was missing. Now she just looked young and lost. He wasn’t sure what to do.
He didn’t want to leave her here with Jayne. Under the glittering disapproval there was a very lonely woman. Taking both of her daughters away on Christmas day seemed extensively cruel.
But he also knew Juliet didn’t deserve to sit here like a lonely olive in a dirty martini. She’d been galavanting all over the damn US for the last eight months. She deserved to spend time with her sister—even more, she deserved some happiness. He and Margo may not be perfect, but they were a helluva lot more enticing for a week of vacation.