Which meant Kendra would have to come up with some way to tell Matty the truth: that she couldn’t accept further payment for treating Jameson, because after almost two weeks it had become abundantly clear that she was going to have to screw his brains out.
Then she could sit back while Matty either laughed her ass off at Kendra or sent brothers Hayden and Mark over to kill her.
But first she had to decide...
Kendra sagged in defeat. Who was she kidding? She’d already decided.
9
MATTY OPENED HER eyes. Light was already streaming in through the not-quite-closed blinds over her windows, which gave onto a charming view of puce siding on the house next door. Ooh, baby. Well, anyway, the day looked to be sunny, which was always cheering. She stretched luxuriously in the old sleigh bed she’d slept in since girlhood. Her mother had been thrilled to get rid of it, having wanted to update Matty’s old room for years. While the rest of their Palos Verdes Estates house had changed with the times, Matty’s room remained a quaint anachronism, filled with dark wood antique pieces she’d pounced on as an adolescent when her father’s parents had downsized into a retirement home. Sometimes she thought she’d been born into the wrong time period.
She turned to peer at the brass windup clock on her cherry bedside table. Yes, she had her iPhone across the room for backup, but she loved this clock and refused to part with it, even if it gained a minute now and then. Or two.
Ten o’clock.
Adrenaline burned as her sleepiness cleared enough to register the day and its significance. Wednesday, November 13, two weeks before Thanksgiving, the day she was to have a late dinner with Chris after that evening’s show. He was going to be in L.A. anyway, he’d said. How about it?
She’d suggested lunch in order to keep the intimacy of nighttime and the inevitable alcohol consumption from leading them into more temptation than they’d have at midday in a well-lit restaurant, but Chris had to teach. With her show schedule, it was rare she got to share an evening meal with anyone during the week.
Honestly, she wanted to see him so badly that she’d said yes in spite of all the voices cautioning her. At least this time she was going in with her eyes wide open. And if he fooled her twice, then shame on her; Matty wouldn’t even try blaming anyone but herself.
Across the room, her phone played the opening lines of Gershwin’s “I’ve Got Beginner’s Luck.” She threw off the covers, jumped out of bed. She’d never been a morning person, not even a late-morning person, though given that she worked until after 10:00 p.m. most nights, her schedule was skewed compared to most people’s. But this morning she was wide awake. Was it Chris?
Kendra! She answered eagerly. Jameson had made amazing progress since she’d been working with him, much more than Matty could have imagined. He was not only taking her calls, he sounded cheerful and funny and...she’d say back to his old self, except that he was more cheerful and funny than she’d ever known him to be. Kendra must be a miracle worker.
“Oh. Uh, hey, Matty.”
Matty stiffened. Kendra sounded cautious, wary, no sign of her usual dynamic optimism.
“What’s going on? How—” She was going to ask immediately about Jameson. Not polite. “—are you?”
“Good, thanks. I’m doing well. Just fine. Thanks.”
This was weird. “How are things going with my little brother?”
Kendra made a strange choking sound. “Great, actually. Really great. He’s made amazing progress out of depression and into accepting his injury. Faster than anyone I’ve seen, given how low he’d sunk.”
Whew. Matty fell back onto the bed, gazing up at the iron-and-glass ceiling light she’d also pilfered from her parents’ house. “This is great news.”
“It is. Definitely. He even seems more sure he’ll serve out his time in the Air Force.”
Matty grimaced. She’d hoped Jameson’s experiences with Kendra would help him come around to some understanding of how much their father and brothers’ influence forced his decision to sign up. “Good to hear.”
“So, um...there is one change.”
Uh-oh. Matty sat up again. Apparently she hadn’t imagined the anxious undertone in Kendra’s voice. “What’s that?”
“I...you won’t need to pay me anymore.”
She frowned. “So you’re done?”
“Not exactly.”
“He doesn’t want to see you anymore?”
Kendra made that strange choking sound again. “Um, no, actually, he does.”
“So, what, he thinks you should donate your services?” Matty couldn’t imagine.
“Not exactly.”
Something weird was going on here. “Why don’t you just tell me, Kendra.”
“Yes. I should. Sorry. The thing is, he wants to— Well, I guess I do, too, but certain ethical problems...” She made a sound of frustration. “I mean, if we keep getting together, not really professionally—at least on my part. Or no, not his part either. God, I’m doing this badly.”
Matty gasped and thunked a hand to her chest, aghast and fascinated at the same time. “You’re involved with him?”
“No. No. No, not at all.” She sighed. “That is, not really. Or I mean, not yet. Not completely.”
Matty rose from the bed and went to the window, yanked open the blinds—good morning, puce. Kendra and Jameson. She should have seen this coming. “You want to date my brother?”
“Matty, I have never encountered anything like this in my professional life. I mean, I have, but I wasn’t interested.”
“I take it you’re interested now.”
“...Yes.”
Matty frowned and paced her room, window to dresser and back. Okay. So this was not the worst thing in the world. As long as her brother didn’t get hurt. “Are you serious about him?”
“No, no, no.” She answered a little too quickly, but she was obviously nervous as hell. “No point getting serious. He’s leaving. We both know that.”
Hmm. Window. Dresser. Window. This could actually be really good. For both of them.
“Matty, this is totally unexpected. I’m sort of a mess over it.”
Matty relented. She even stopped pacing. “You sound it.”
“The thing is, I enjoy him. A lot. And he seems to feel the same way. Maybe it’s our shared history, I don’t know. We just really have...fun.”
“Fun is what he needs.”
“Yes, I mean, I have fun with all my clients, but this got...very fun.”
A grin started to spread across Matty’s face. Well, well. “You know one of the reasons I wanted you to do this so badly is that I thought Jameson would trust you in a way he wouldn’t trust a stranger, no matter how capable she was.”
“So you don’t mind?”
“I’m only worried because he’s vulnerable right now.” A snort came over the line. Matty narrowed her eyes. Oh. Maybe he wasn’t that vulnerable. “Does what I think make a difference?”
The silence went on so long that Matty wanted to giggle. Of course it didn’t. Kendra was probably too polite to say so. What would Jameson say if he heard Matty was going out with Chris again? Or anyone from college who’d known about the affair? They’d all want to give her a huge whap across the common sense. Would that change her mind? Probably not.
She took pity. “Kendra, when it comes to matters of the heart, you gotta do what you gotta do. It really shouldn’t surprise me that you two have found something, whatever it is, however long it lasts. And if it makes my brother happy, then I’m all for it.”
“I’ll still be taking care of him. Trying to make sure he’s doing okay.”
Shy tenderness had crept into her voice. Ha! She was crazy about him. Matty relaxed the rest of the way, grinned wickedly. “He’s not so bad after all, h
uh.”
“Not so bad, no. Not like he used to be. He hasn’t tried to trip me in the halls.” She was silent for a couple of beats. “But it’s less like he’s changed fundamentally and more like he let himself out of some box.”
“Ah, the Cartwright container.”
“Maybe that’s it.” She laughed nervously. “Half the time I think I’m completely crazy even considering this.”
“Tell me about it.” Matty pulled up the covers on her bed to neaten them. “I’m thinking of starting up again with an old boyfriend and feeling the same way.”
“It’s scary.” Kendra inhaled slowly. “But also exciting.”
Ew. Matty gave her pillow a thump. She did not want to hear how exciting her brother was. “Keep me posted, Kendra. I mean as a friend. If you want to.”
“Absolutely. Maybe we could have coffee sometime? I’d love to meet you.”
“Why don’t you and Jameson come see the show one night this weekend or next week? I promised you tickets.”
“I’ll check with him.” She giggled. “Okay, this is weird.”
“Very.” Matty would bet everything she owned that Kendra was blushing like crazy right about then. She ended the call and crawled back into bed, turning on her side, hugging the no-longer-neat covers around her. What was that strange power that bound two people together for so many years? Her and Chris, Jameson and Kendra.
When Jameson had been little, the name Kendra had come up over and over. Kendra was smart. Kendra did a great show-and-tell. Kendra was funny in the school play. Kendra was helping organize a food drive. Kendra was running against him for class president.
But every time Matty had tried to talk to Jameson about this Kendra person and a possible friendship, he’d shake his head fiercely and insist she was fat and annoying, words that sounded straight out of their brothers’ mouths. So she’d stopped asking, but kept noticing. His victory senior year as class president was the closest he’d ever been to coming clean about his feelings for her.
Matty had been home for the weekend from Pomona when he’d stalked into her room, looking angry and upset. She knew better than to ask, just waited while he roamed around the room, working on her journal entry until he felt like talking. When he did, all he’d said was, “Kendra ran the better campaign.”
“Congratulations, you’re a Cartwright.” Matty hadn’t said that the way their dad would.
Jameson had understood the irony. He’d gone on to blurt out how he’d been surrounded by congratulatory friends after the election, and Kendra had made him feel about six inches tall by plowing determinedly through the crowd, congratulating him and walking away. Matty had listened sympathetically, but really, what could she say? If the world was fair, everyone who got ahead would be smarter and harder working and more talented.
Now through a remarkable set of circumstances set in motion by a stray cat, Jameson might finally get his Kendra.
As for herself and Chris, Matty would have to wait to see.
And wait.
And wait—did a day ever take this long to pass? She was at the theater half an hour earlier than usual, desperate to escape her apartment and get started on this last block of time before their date. After the show she was out of costume and makeup and into street clothes and her car in record time. The drive to the restaurant would take twenty minutes with no traffic issues.
No traffic issues! She pulled into a public parking lot around the block from the restaurant where they were meeting, the Lazy Ox Canteen, with three minutes to spare. Hurrying across the dark street and down the block, she spotted the glass-fronted entrance and pushed inside.
The place was narrow, bustling, bar on the left, tables in two parallel rows toward the back of the room. Chalkboards on the walls listed the menu options.
It smelled really, really good.
A man rose from a table on her left. She didn’t need to look directly at him to know it was Chris. His form was emblazoned so deeply in her memory that even her peripheral vision recognized him in an instant.
She’d planned to be cool, confident, a bit standoffish, all in the name of self-protection, but at the sight of his handsome face and smiling brown eyes all that sensible stuff went out the window and she found herself grinning for all she was worth.
So be it. She’d never been able to fight her feelings for him—what made her hope she could now?
“Hi, Chris.” She hugged him quickly, wishing he didn’t smell so good and so familiar. It made her want to hold on and inhale. “Thanks for driving out here.”
“You had the late commitment. It only made sense.” He guided her to their table, pulled out her chair. Matty would never hold it against a guy not to bother with the old-fashioned gesture, but it fit Chris and she enjoyed it. “How did the show go tonight?”
She grimaced, shrugging out of her jacket. “I missed a step toward the end, but otherwise fine.”
“Yeah?” He sat opposite her, somehow too close. This was too intense, too awkward; there was too much unsaid hanging between them to relax. She needed a drink. Now. “What happened there?”
Matty pretended to be very involved in adjusting her chair, using it as an excuse to back up just a bit. She’d been thinking of him. Of tonight. Of what might happen after dinner and whether she wanted it to or not. “Mind-body glitch. It happens. My concentration slipped.”
“I couldn’t keep my mind on anything but you today either.”
He spoke offhandedly, as if he’d been praising the restaurant decor. Arousal burned through her. It had always been like this between them. “What makes you think I was thinking of you?”
“Weren’t you?”
She smiled and picked up the menu. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Trust me, with you I take nothing for granted.” Chris leaned forward as if to whisper, raising his eyebrows. “Any chance you’re in the mood for champagne?”
A joke between them. She was always in the mood for champagne. “Hmm. Well...I guess so. Are we celebrating?”
“Just drinking champagne.”
“I approve.”
They spent a few minutes looking over the menu of small plates, discussing which ones to try—difficult choices, since everything looked delicious. They’d just settled on a couple of intriguing vegetable plates and a few heartier selections of meat and fish when the waiter came by with champagne, which Chris had apparently ordered before her arrival.
Matty scowled teasingly. “I thought you took nothing about me for granted.”
“Only this.” He smiled at her, eyes warm. “You never say no to champagne.”
“True.” And she never said no to sex after she’d been drinking it. He probably remembered that, too.
After the waiter filled their glasses and took their order, Chris raised his flute to her in a toast. “Here’s to stumbling over you again, Matty.”
She hesitated, then clinked his glass and drank. The champagne was chilled just right, with a fresh clarity that slid down way too easily. Matty took in a blissful breath. “Oh, that’s good. I’ll end up taking a cab home.”
“I can drive you.” He suddenly looked uncomfortable, lined up his fork more exactly perpendicular to the table’s edge. “If it comes to that.”
Matty dropped her gaze, took another big sip of the wine, knowing they were both thinking about him coming home with her and what might happen there.
“Catch me up on the years, Chris. Still renting the same apartment?”
He shook his head. “I bought a house when I got tenure. Nice three-bedroom on Seventh Street. I have room for my office, and a guest room. I like the space.”
“Still got the baseball wall in your bedroom?”
“Absolutely.”
She sipped more champagne, watching him over the rim, feel
ing the bubbles cavorting through her system. He was so, so handsome. She remembered lying in his bed after they’d made love, staring at the autographed poster of Graig Nettles on the wall and wondering if they’d get married, have kids, be together until death.
So young. So naive.
“Did you ever go to Paris, Chris?”
The warmth in his eyes faded to wistful sadness. “No.”
“No?” She was dismayed to find herself relieved. They’d planned to take the trip together after Matty’s graduation. Matty had been ecstatic. She’d spent her year abroad after high school in London, Scotland and Ireland, but had never made it to the Continent. Paris would belong to her and to Chris. She’d even fantasized that he’d propose there. After they’d broken up, she’d barely been able to think about France, let alone plan to go there without him. Later there had been other more practical reasons of budget and time.
But he hadn’t gone? Not ever?
“Why not?”
He chuckled dryly. “Paris was supposed to be ours, remember?”
“But it’s been years, Chris.” Emboldened by the champagne, she laid her fingers on the table, their tips just touching his sleeve. “Why didn’t you go later? It was your dream destination.”
“Mattingly...” Chris put down his champagne and took her hand, eyes filling with a special sweetness, a look she remembered getting many, many times, a look that made her feel adored and desired and as though the world was a uniformly fabulous place—despite all evidence to the contrary. “I don’t think you realize how serious I was about you.”
She opened her mouth to scoff at him, but couldn’t make a sound. How could she know if he was telling the truth or setting the stage for seduction that would ultimately lead to more heartbreak?
“I know that’s not what you want to hear right now, so that’s all I’ll say.” He released her hand and sat back. “Did you ever go?”
“No.” She developed the same fascination with silverware he’d had not long before, heart still pounding. “Either I didn’t have the money or it wasn’t the right time.”
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