Intrigue Me

by Leigh, Jo

  Instead of knocking, he took a minute. He’d spent most of the night at Lisa’s sound asleep. The last thing he remembered, not counting this morning, was asking for a beer. Then it was somehow 2:00 a.m. and she’d kicked him out.

  He smiled, remembering how sorry she’d been to wake him when his feet hung off the bottom of her ridiculously small bed, and his shoulders took up the top. They could have dealt with that if she hadn’t had to go to work early. So, he’d made his way home, regretting the lost opportunity. Not just the sex, either. Time alone with Lisa had become a priority.

  Once he’d gotten into his own bed, he should have fallen asleep right away, but thoughts about the visit to the cemetery kept him up. Not the part where he’d most definitely wanted Lisa to be with him. That, he’d deal with later. What had him staring at his dark ceiling was the way he’d felt after he’d blurted out all his fears. Warren would never have done such a thing. Neither would his dad. It seemed Daniel was taking all kinds of radical departures from the Cassidy rule book.

  He’d tried to remember if Warren had ever loved the field. Maybe he did. Maybe, like Daniel, he would have chosen neurology on his own. But something told Daniel he wouldn’t have. Yet he’d been a good son, even though Daniel had been the favored child. For God’s sake, their dad had left Warren in the dark about the big plan. Daniel would see to it that it stayed that way.

  At 6:00 in the morning he’d texted Warren that he’d like to meet him at the house ASAP.

  Surprisingly, his brother texted back at 6:30 asking him to come by in an hour.

  It was 7:24, and Daniel still couldn’t decide what, if anything, he wanted to say to Warren. Could he ask him if he’d ever wanted to be anything else? Did he blame their mother for leaving? Would Warren tell him the truth? It wasn’t any of Daniel’s business. Just like it wasn’t Warren’s to tell him how to live.

  There were three things Daniel knew for sure. One was that he didn’t want to simply walk away from the clinic. The second was he didn’t want to forfeit a full life for the work. And the third was he didn’t want to lose Lisa. Although, he had a feeling the order was backward.

  He knocked, and there was Warren, standing back to let him in, looking impeccable in his summer suit. “I see you have coffee. There’s a fresh pot in the kitchen if you want more.” He offered Daniel a packet of red sticky dots as they walked to the kitchen. “Mark what you’d like. I’ll have the items sent to your house.”

  “What about what you want?”

  “I’ve got green dots.”

  Daniel supposed that was fair since he’d dragged his feet. So he just nodded and stepped into the expansive, overdecorated kitchen. When they were little, it hadn’t been this ostentatious. He remembered a lot of family breakfasts, a few lunches, hardly any dinners. But before school, he and Warren had eaten together. Their mother had never much cared for cooking, so they’d hired a lady to do it for her. The woman had been friendly and kept a secret stash of chocolate chip cookies just for him.

  When Mom left, so did the cook. He’d been seventeen, Warren twenty-one.

  Warren had poured his own refill. “Remember Angela’s Dutch pancakes?”

  Daniel did. So clearly he could practically smell the apples and the warm maple syrup. “I’ve never bothered ordering them at a restaurant. They would never come close.”

  “I’m assuming you don’t want kitchen items?”

  “No, thanks. I’d like to check out the office and the library. Maybe visit the atrium, not to take anything, just to visit. And my old room.” As they started walking, Daniel asked, “You going to keep it?”

  “I have a house. Besides, I’ve already signed with a Realtor. We’re setting the price at 122 million.”

  “No way.”

  Warren shrugged. “She thinks it’ll sell for at least that. Anyway, come on. I don’t want to linger. And don’t just mark the things you definitely want. If there’s a question, put a dot on it. Furniture included. God knows you could use some of it in that mausoleum you live in.”

  “I’ve always liked the chairs in the library.”

  “Tag ’em. And don’t forget the books are going to be sold. My bookshelves are as full as I want them to be.”

  Passing through the living room, Daniel had to laugh at what remained the most obvious piece of showmanship he’d ever seen. The centerpiece of the large glass table in the middle of a perfect room that looked out the glass doors to the garden and the water wall was an Architectural Digest with the cover shot of this room, looking straight out the glass door to the garden and the water wall. That magazine had held a place of honor since before the issue hit the stands.

  There was also a gorgeous grand piano, which Warren would have marked as his. He’d played, while Daniel had studied the violin. Hated every minute of it, mostly because it distracted him from medicine, but now?

  “If you’re looking for the violin, it’s in your old bedroom.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I grew up with you.” Warren didn’t stop until they reached their father’s office. “And listen, if you want to take your time, I’ll jot down the new security password for you.”

  “I don’t want to keep you, but I’m glad that you’re here.” They were in the library, Daniel’s favorite room. The bookcases climbed the walls. There was a wood-burning fireplace and the most comfortable chairs ever. He put a red dot on each one, and he didn’t forget the ottomans. He thought about taking the coffee table, but didn’t sticker it. “Does it still feel like home to you, Warren? Did it ever?”

  “Yes. It did. There were lots of places to go when I didn’t want to be bothered by my little brother. And we both knew how to manipulate the nannies. It was a good place to grow up.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about it.” Daniel brushed his hand over the long leather sofa before he put a dot on that, as well. “God knows we had everything we could ever want. But this place felt empty to me after Mom left.”

  Warren stopped to look at him. “You were younger, so I can understand that.”

  The antique carnival rocking horse hadn’t been claimed until he put his red dot on it. “You talk to her much?”

  Warren shrugged. “I told her we were selling the place, but she didn’t want anything. When she divorced Dad, that was it for her. I thought she might want a share of the proceeds, but she didn’t.”

  “It was nice of you to offer.”

  He went back to tagging. “You’ll get your share.”

  “My share? The house belongs to you.”

  “122 million, Daniel. I think I can share some of it and still feed my children.”

  Daniel had never considered Warren greedy but his generosity still took him aback. Made him feel good. He didn’t care about the money, though he wouldn’t be stupid about it. He’d talk to his financial planner, make sure to donate a nice sum to the clinic, a couple of other charities he liked. Start trust funds for his kids. Future kids.

  Lisa came easily to mind. Of course they’d never talked about wanting kids or not. He hadn’t passed the wanting-sex-with-her-every-free-moment stage. But the way she spoke to patients and handled the children, yeah, he could see her as a mother.

  Warren was eyeing him funny, so Daniel lost the goofy grin and got busy labeling hardback books, mostly first editions. Warren had chosen only one. The Red Pony.

  Daniel raised his eyebrows.

  Warren smiled. “I should have just taken it. It was the first book Dad ever read to me.”

  Daniel couldn’t remember if his father had ever read to him. It didn’t matter. He also tagged the chess set. It was hand-carved and beautiful, and he loved the game.

  By the time he got to his room, the only thing of interest was his old violin. It was pricey and had a wonderful tone, but it had been years since he’d touched
it. “Thanks,” he said, warmed that Warren had kept it safe, locked in a glass case.

  Warren nodded. “I’ve got to go.” He handed Daniel a note with the password on it. “See yourself out, and remember, there’s still coffee.”

  Daniel almost stopped him. But his brother left before he could gather the courage. Would Warren have been honest about his feelings toward Dad? Daniel had no idea.

  He looked around his old room with the royal blue comforter on his queen-size sleigh bed and decided he didn’t want it, even for a guest room. It didn’t take him long after that to finish up, and as he grabbed one last cup of coffee, it hit him that Warren hadn’t brought up the Center at all. Probably figured that now that he’d gotten a taste of working there, he’d never want to leave.

  There was no denying how much he loved being there. God, to work with state-of-the-art equipment, to partner with brilliant specialists, to save lives that few hospitals in the world could tackle... All his years of study had been with one goal in mind. To be the best neurocritical specialist in the country.

  But working at the clinic had opened his eyes to so much more. How much of life he truly wanted. He just hadn’t figure out how to have them both.

  Perhaps Lisa would help him find that balance. No, it was too soon to ask her something like that. If he had any right to at all. It would take all his courage just to ask her if she’d given any thought to their future.

  When Daniel finally left, he thought about bringing her to see the place before it sold. That might seem too much like bringing her home to meet the folks. Although, he had already introduced her to Dad.

  * * *

  IT HAD BEEN fifteen hours since Heather’s text. Lisa was actively working on another divorce case in the middle of a street fair in Park Slope, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the mess she’d made of her life.

  After Tess, she’d sworn she’d never get involved with anyone again. Not as a friend. Not as a lover. If she’d only stuck to her word, none of this would have happened. Heather would have found a reliable investigator, she’d have met Daniel and they would have clicked or not. Lisa would never have met him and never remembered how to care.

  “It’s also good for stretch marks and dark spots.” The woman selling face oil was staring, first at Lisa then at the bottle she still held.

  She put it down and said, “I’m going to do a little more shopping. I’ll think about it.”

  The woman’s shoulders slumped, but Lisa moved on, first locating Kevin Spitzer, the proud owner of four food trucks that worked all over Brooklyn and the cheating husband du jour. Lisa would be able to put this case behind her once she got the money shot of Kevin kissing his mistress, which should happen when he reached the end of market, where he and his mistress would likely meet.

  Just the fact that he was there told most of his story. He was supposed to be in Manhattan, meeting with a chef. Instead, he was standing at the CRAZZZY HOT HOT SAUCE booth, eating sample after sample. She took another picture and silently willed him to move on already.

  She’d situated herself between booths while she waited, her mind switching instantly to how she’d answered Heather’s text with yet another lie. Middle of something. Talk soon. She could rationalize the reply, but she knew it was pure stalling while she tried to wiggle out of her situation.

  Spitzer finally left the hot sauces behind him and crossed to her side of the street. She trailed him slowly, wondering if perhaps the reason he was dawdling was because they weren’t meeting until noon. It was 11:15 a.m. now. Damn it.

  He’d stopped at a food truck, this one advertising their deep-fried candy bars. Kevin didn’t look as if he was in tip-top shape. Especially in the beer-belly area. Not her problem. Thank God, because she had enough of her own.

  Being trapped between the lies she’d told Daniel and the truth she may have to willfully omit in her conversation with Heather made her chest tighten and tied her stomach in knots. Add to that the hours she’d stared at Daniel asleep on her small bed while she cursed herself for ever entering the Moss Street free clinic, and she wished she could run away from home.

  Kevin had eaten whatever ungodly mess he’d ordered, and now he was buying a magazine from a vendor. He didn’t linger, which meant she didn’t, either. When he reached the big corner flower shop, he stopped once more.

  Bingo. The market ended with the flower shop, and it looked as if he’d ordered a bouquet of pink roses. Lisa took several pictures, staying just behind him, busying herself with a loaf of sourdough bread that smelled heavenly.

  Just as Kevin took the bouquet, her phone rang. Lisa held her breath, hoping like hell it wasn’t Heather. But she’d have been better off with her ex-client. The call was from Daniel, and she winced at each ring. She then counted the seconds until she found out if he’d left a voice mail or a text.

  When the message was complete, she dutifully ignored it in order to make her camera ready. Kevin wasn’t just standing at the corner—he was leaning against the wall, his flowers in one hand while he held the magazine with the other.

  Lisa lined up the most likely shot. It wouldn’t take long to just see the text message. She didn’t have to answer it or anything. But she was more distracted by not looking than she would be if she just read it already.

  Four clicks on her Android and there it was, nestled among two texts from Heather and three from Logan. She opened it.

  Miss you. Hope everything’s okay. Went to the house & met w/ Warren. Expected the worst but got surprised. Can’t wait to tell all. Dinner?

  Lisa looked over at the corner just in time to see Kevin and a woman kissing. By the time she took the picture, she captured the back of Kevin’s shirt.

  Cursing up a storm, she ran, trying to find them on the crowded street. Some idiot grabbed her by the shoulder, and she would have kicked the bastard in the nuts if it weren’t for the sourdough loaf in her hand.

  The man she’d almost kneed was actually a kid. And his mother was yelling “thief” from the booth.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, even though the boy didn’t seem to care. He just walked beside her warily until she pulled out her wallet. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize.”

  “You think you’re the first to try that?” Although Lisa was directly on the other side of the long table filled with breads, the woman yelled at her as if she’d been in Queens. “This is New York. I don’t give a damn what you did or did not realize. You stole my bread and almost got away with it.”

  “I’ll pay for it now. Plus I’ll add a baguette.”

  The woman, somewhere in her forties, huffed a laugh. “You’ll add another two loaves if you don’t want me making a fuss.”

  Lisa didn’t argue. She paid the bill, held back the urge to apologize again and headed toward the only hotel in walking distance. Hopefully, this was just a nooner and they’d both come out the front doors in an hour. But with her luck lately, she’d probably watch all day for nothing.

  “Great,” she whispered, not paying a bit of attention to the bustling crowd on the street. “Now I’m screwing up this job.” She tore off a big chunk of bread, took a bite and tried to find the best place to wait.

  * * *

  SHE SHOULDN’T HAVE COME.

  She’d spent most of yesterday scrambling to find another way to get the picture she’d missed. A tip from Kevin’s wife led her back to the hotel by the mostly empty farmers’ market where she caught them pre-kiss, mid-kiss and post-kiss. A whole day wasted because she hadn’t been paying attention, followed by another restless night. The few snatches of sleep she’d gotten had been plagued by nightmares, so she watched infomercials until it was time to shower.

  Why the hell had she bothered coming all the way to the Bronx to do data entry? No, she hadn’t wanted to flake out on Valeria, but Lisa wasn’t exactly the cog tha
t kept the wheel turning. At least she hadn’t let anyone see her yet. She was still a block away, but with her luck, someone would catch her.

  Lisa pulled her phone from her purse, but she didn’t use it. She needed to think this through. She moved closer to the brick wall between shops.

  She’d completed the paperwork on the divorce case this morning. She hadn’t mentioned her blunder. No need for Logan to be disappointed in her when she was doing such a great job of it herself. The rest of her reports were up to date, and she’d already started the preliminary searches to track down another deadbeat dad.

  So, maybe she should go enter data. Daniel had been at the Center since the night he’d slept over and Valeria had told her that they weren’t expecting him today. Heather was still out of town. After several “Sorry, work” excuses, Lisa had told her they should meet to sign a new contract. In a text, of course. It had been radio silence ever since.

  When she did return, Heather would probably want the new contract right away. Lisa had no grounds on which to say no to her, except that she’d been sleeping with the subject of her inquiry from the day after Heather had told her to switch her focus.

  Of all of her mistakes, the only one that truly mattered was that she’d lied to Daniel, and now she’d been avoiding him. She’d barely slept the past two nights, and God, she needed to talk to Logan. He was the only one who knew everything that had happened to her, and without him, she’d have been lost.

  She’d go by the office later, see if he’d returned yet.

  Right, so go to the clinic? No? If by some fluke Daniel was there, she’d probably burst into tears and go hide in the bathroom until she could slink back to her apartment. Just like before. Just like after Tess.

  Lisa shuddered as she remembered four long months of hopelessness. Of locking out the rest of the world. She’d worked, but only for Logan and only on cases where she didn’t have to interact with anyone. It had taken all her courage to feel comfortable in a crowd, to engage in conversations. To volunteer. Then Daniel had broken through every barrier and she couldn’t stand the thought of losing him.