by Sam Burns
Keegan sighed. “No, he’s not happy that I’m dating you. He told me I can’t.”
“He what?” Jon’s incredulous tone was gratifying.
“You heard me right. He said I can’t date you.” Keegan watched Brigit lead Phil into the main dining room. She looked tense, lips drawn into a tight line. Phil was as graceful and beautiful as always, and he looked completely at ease as Brigit showed him to Keegan’s table.
“What did you tell him?” Jon was asking on the other end of the line.
Keegan smiled. “I told him to drink plenty of fluids and get some rest.”
Jon sputtered into the phone. “You—you what?”
“I’m almost thirty years old,” Keegan pointed out. “And did I mention that I’m not Juliet?”
Jon chuckled. “So you say, but off you go to meet with Paris.”
Both Brigit and Phil turned to look at Keegan when he burst into laughter. He waved at them, and turned away to speak into the phone again. “I gotta go tell Paris that the wedding is off, I guess. Pretty sure he’s not interested in marrying me, but I promise I’ll make sure he knows it’s off the table.”
“So I’m not going to get a call from Vegas in the morning?”
Keegan answered on the spot, “Not unless I need to ask what you want me to bring back to our hotel room for breakfast.”
“Screw that,” Jon said, his voice low and sexy. “Get your ass back to the hotel room and we’ll order in.”
Keegan shivered at the way the words rolled over him. “We’re so gonna have phone sex.”
“Right now?” Jon’s voice was filled with amusement. “I’m kind of at work.”
“Should have thought of that before you got me going.” Keegan looked back over at his table, where Phil was sitting, looking at him expectantly. “I gotta go meet with Phil, though. That ought to kill any thoughts of sex.”
“You’re darned right it ought to,” Jon answered. “I’ll come by for dinner at Wilde’s tonight?”
Keegan smiled. “Yeah. That’s good. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Tonight,” Jon answered, his tone giving Keegan another shiver.
He stared at the phone for a moment after the call disconnected and gave a deep sigh. He looked over at Phil. He felt like he was facing a portal into the past. He hadn’t wanted to go back to that point in his life even before he’d met Jon. That part of his life was over, and Keegan was done with it. Maybe he just needed to say goodbye to Phil once and for all.
#
“Not sure I love the look you’re giving me right now, babe,” Phil said as Keegan walked up to the table.
The nickname gave him pause. He didn’t remember Phil calling him that. It seemed in character, though, so he didn’t say anything about it. He walked to the opposite side of the booth and slid in, leaving the entire table between them.
Phil raised an eyebrow at the distance. “Okay, now I know I don’t like that look.”
“Not sure why it’s important,” Keegan said, shrugging his right shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Brigit came clomping up to the table, footsteps as heavy as such a slight person could make them. “Do you need a drink, Key? Whiskey?”
“Whiskey?” Phil asked, disbelief in his tone. “At ten in the morning? Surely I’m not that much of a trial to deal with.”
Brigit gave him a narrow-eyed thoughtful look. She turned back to Keegan. “Whiskey?”
He had to stifle his grin, biting his bottom lip hard to keep it still. “I’m good, Brigit. Maybe some tea.”
She nodded and marched off without so much as looking at Phil again.
“I take it I’m in the doghouse for trying to move in on your new man’s territory?” Phil asked as he leaned toward Keegan, putting his elbows on the table between them. “I didn’t come here to make trouble for you.”
Keegan considered him for a moment. Phil had been shallow and self-absorbed, but last time Keegan had seen him, he’d been a good-looking guy in his early twenties who only cared about his modeling career. There was something sadder in his eyes now, something a little more self-aware. “I never thought you did, Phil. I just don’t know why you’re here.”
“Ouch. I guess you wouldn’t buy that I just missed you?” Phil asked.
“You think?” Keegan drew his own elbows up onto the table and leaned toward Phil. “You haven’t talked to me since you left. I’m not saying I hold that against you. I’m just saying I don’t get why you’re here now. What’s going on?”
Phil shrugged and looked down at the tabletop. “I dunno. An old friend asked me to come to Chicago, and when I got here, I thought of you. Thought I should come see how you’ve been doing.”
It had been years since Keegan had interrogated anyone. Years since anyone had tried to lie to him about anything bigger than why they had called in sick. He was still sharp, though. He knew when he was being jerked around.
He took his elbows off the table and leaned back. “Bullshit.”
“Jesus, your boyfriend really convinced you I’m up to no good, didn’t he?” Phil looked petulant, his head lowered and bottom lip sticking out a bit. It was an expression that had almost always gotten him what he wanted before.
Phil was still pretty enough to get away with it, but it didn’t seem to work on Keegan anymore. “Brigit thinks you’re up to no good. Jon was just worried because he thought someone was stalking me. Not exactly the impression you want to leave people with, is it?”
Sighing, Phil rolled his eyes and looked away from the table. “I thought the people around you were paranoid before, but they had nothing on this bunch.”
There was truth in that, but “paranoia” was the wrong word. He wasn’t quite sure how to explain it at first.
“They’re protective,” Keegan said aloud when he realized what the right word was. “They’re not paranoid, they’re protecting me. Not just Jon, everyone here. They’re my friends.”
“They’re your employees,” Phil corrected.
But Phil was wrong, and Keegan supposed he was too. He shook his head. “They’re my family.”
Keegan looked over at Brigit as she approached the table again, her face still drawn with worry. He could prove her loyalty to Phil in a hundred ways, all he had to do was ask for some show of it, and she’d do whatever he wanted. He’d watched his father do exactly that hundreds of times, just to prove to outsiders how tight-knit the family was.
Instead, he smiled at her and accepted the glass. “Thanks, Brigit.”
She gave him a small smile in return and looked cautiously hopeful. “Everything going okay?”
“It’s fine,” he assured her. “You need my help with anything before we open?” She gave Phil a hard look, and Keegan could see the wheels turning in her head. “We’ll be done in a minute, so I can help you then.”
She turned back to him, giving a small shrug. “I’m doing okay. But if you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Remind me not to turn my back on her,” Phil commented while she was still well within hearing range.
“Damn right,” she answered, without even turning her head.
Keegan took a drink of tea, ducking his head and trying to pretend the whole exchange wasn’t amusing. “So you’re in town for a visit, and you just thought you’d come see me?”
“Is that so weird?”
“It’s been more than five years, Phil. Yeah, it’s weird.” Keegan took another drink of tea and tried to gather his thoughts to explain, even if only to himself, why Phil’s visit bothered him. “There’s a lot going on right now. Your timing is lousy.”
“A lot going on?” Phil asked. “Is everything okay?”
In under a second, Keegan considered and dismissed the idea of talking to Phil about his dad’s illness. It was nothing that concerned him. “Everything’s fine.”
Phil looked mildly disappointed, but shook his head and smiled. “Same old Keegan, huh? Never want to talk about your problems.”
Keegan shrugged. He had thought, in retrospect, that the lack of communication had been their biggest problem. Keegan hadn’t been much of a communicator back then, and Phil hadn’t usually cared enough to ask questions anyway. Now, Keegan had people to talk to, and Phil wasn’t one of them.
“We should have lunch sometime,” Phil said, and Keegan worried that he was going to get whiplash from the sudden change in the direction of the conversation.
“What?”
“Lunch,” Phil reiterated. “Oh, not today, your bodyguard told me you were busy today. All week, in fact. But I’ll be in Chicago for a while. We should have lunch.”
Keegan bit down the urge to ask why, and instead nodded. “Sure. We can do that.”
“I’ll need your number,” Phil said with a casual smile.
Keegan had spent years honing his bullshit detector. He knew that something with Phil wasn’t on the level. Still, for reasons he didn’t understand, he found himself nodding and typing his number into Phil’s phone when the man passed it across the table.
“Great, I’ll text you,” he said, pocketing it when Keegan handed it back. Before Keegan caught up, Phil was standing to go.
“Okay,” he said, drawing out the syllables as Phil turned and left. “Bye?”
“See you,” Phil called over his shoulder.
Brigit came over as soon as Phil was gone. “You look confused.”
“I am.” He frowned up at her. “I’m still not sure why he wanted to talk to me.”
She turned and glared at the front door. “Well, good riddance.”
Keegan sighed aloud. He couldn’t explain to Brigit why Phil had once been important to him. Looking back, he wasn’t sure what had held them together in the first place. Phil was pretty, and people loved to be around him, but Keegan didn’t remember any of their conversations. There had been no witty banter, no charmingly rigid adherence to even the most insignificant rules.
“What are you grinning about?” Brigit asked suspiciously.
He blinked, realizing that his train of thought had completely jumped the track. There was a goofy smile pasted across his face, and he didn’t care to wipe it away. He turned it on Brigit. “What do you think about hiring someone so we can have real days off?”
Her answering cheer was loud enough to bring Drew out of the kitchen, concerned that someone was being attacked in the dining room. Okay, so it was a good idea.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jon Isn't Impressed
It seemed like the day was determined to drag on forever, and Jon wasn’t getting any work done. He stared listlessly at yet another loading screen, wondering why the computer he had at home seemed light-years faster.
“What’s going on with you?” Max asked from across their desks. “You’ve been off all day.”
Jon gave a deep sigh and slumped down in his chair. “It’s stupid, and I’m not interested in being laughed at, thanks.”
“Trouble with the boyfriend already?”
Jon’s eyes snapped over to the man. His tone had been neutral, but the words were loaded. Max was still on the Quinn investigation.
Max seemed to understand Jon’s reaction, and he held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “All right, all right, you don’t have to talk to me about it, but you look like you’re gonna vibrate out of your suit.”
“His ex is in town,” Jon said, sighing again. “This is ridiculous. The guy is a sleaze, it’s not like anything is going to come of it.”
“Lemme guess, he’s a good-looking sleaze?” Max asked. “I know the type. My ex-wife had this one. Used to roll into town looking to borrow money once every few years.”
Jon sighed and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to ask, but he suspected he already knew where the story was going. “Didn’t you get divorced because she cheated?”
Max chuckled, picking up his pen and pointing it in Jon’s direction before writing something on the paper in front of him and flipping the file shut. “How’d you guess, man? Yeah. It’s always the good-looking ex. Hell, I’d sleep with her if she showed up at my door.”
“That sounds . . . healthy.” Jon tried to pretend he was looking at his own work, but even if he could’ve focused, it was still stuck on the loading screen. “Do you think it’s that easy for everyone?” Jon didn’t have any serious exes in his past, and sure as heck none he’d sleep with.
Max shrugged. “I guess it depends on how serious it was. You marry a person, it’s hard to stop feeling anything. And then, when you get enough time apart, it’s easy to remember the good stuff.”
Jon didn’t know how serious Keegan and Phil had been. He didn’t know how long they had been together, or why they had separated. If only he and Keegan had been together a little longer before Phil showed up like a human wrecking ball, throwing himself at Keegan, he’d feel a little better.
“You know,” Max said thoughtfully. “If he dated Quinn while he was in the family business, we’d have a file on him.”
“And me accessing that file would be a gross misuse of FBI property,” Jon answered without even considering it. Well, maybe considering it a little bit. But what would the file say, really? The guy was a model. His worst criminal offense was liable to be jaywalking, or a DWI.
Max rolled his eyes and turned to his computer. “It’s a good thing you’re not gonna look him up, then.”
That was a strange way of putting it. And the stress on the word “you’re” was downright alarming. “Max, I don’t think—”
“You said Ames, right? Never mind, I found him. Wow,” Max said, dragging out the word. “Your boyfriend’s got a type, doesn’t he?”
“What the heck is that supposed to mean?” Jon turned to stare at Max. Glare, really. He was pretty sure he was being compared to the creepy Stepford guy.
“Oh, come on,” Max said, turning his monitor to show him a picture of Phil. He looked younger, posing with his head on Keegan’s shoulder and a big grin on his face. “Guy could be you if he were a little taller. Quinn’s obviously got a thing for a pretty face.”
Jon’s eyes narrowed to slits, and he looked at Max for a long moment. “I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment.”
After turning his monitor back around, Max shrugged. “It is one. Like, if I were gay, I’d totally do you. Is that rude?”
“It’s sexual harassment.”
“Huh.” Max frowned. “Fair enough. Sorry, man, didn’t mean to be an asshole.”
Jon waved it away. “I’ve heard worse.” Max looked like he wanted to object on Jon’s behalf, so he waved again. “Not here. And I’m nothing like Phil Ames.”
Max looked back at his screen and started reading. After a while, he let out a low whistle. “No kidding you’re nothing like him.”
Jon fought the urge to ask. Hanging his head, he took a deep breath and tried to refocus on his work.
“You think Quinn’ll give him money?” Max asked.
Jon sat quietly. He probably shouldn’t even answer that question, but he wanted to know what Max was talking about. Finally, he sighed. “Why?”
“Kid’s all kinds of fucked up, that’s why.” Max typed something into his computer then started reading. “Meth, coke, possession with intent to distribute, possession, domestic—Jesus, Jonny. You should be worried.”
Closing his eyes and rubbing his temples, Jon took a deep breath. Phil hadn’t made a great impression, but Jon never would have expected that. Phil didn’t have any of the symptoms of being a regular drug user, let alone the kind that led to a rap sheet like that. “And what am I supposed to do about this, Max? Tell Keegan I looked up his ex-boyfriend’s criminal record? That’s a great way to look like a creepy, possessive jerk.”
Max frowned. “Sorry. But Jon, this is bad. You gotta keep this guy away from your boyfriend. Say whatever you gotta, just do it.”
That was rather more dramatic than expected. “I’m not worried about Keegan getting involved in drugs, Max. He’s not interested in th
at.”
“I’m not talking about drugs.” Max leaned as far forward as he could get over his desk, and lowered his voice. “Guy put his last boyfriend in the hospital, out in L.A.”
“What?” Jon hissed at him, leaning forward, hands braced on his desk.
Max nodded. “Boyfriend refused to press charges when he got out of the hospital. Said Phil never would have hurt him. Said he slipped on a wet sidewalk and broke his face.”
Jon sat back and tried to think rationally. That wouldn’t happen to them. Keegan wasn’t dating the guy. He wasn’t going to be in a position to get hurt. Even if the bastard tried something, there was no way Keegan would put up with it. It was still impossible to put out of his mind. He’d made an appointment for the man to see Keegan. He was responsible for putting them in a room together.
His phone was in his hand before he consciously thought about it, and he was scrolling for Keegan’s number. As it started ringing, he stood and looked around.
Max waved him away, pointing at the door. “Go make the call, man. Make sure everything’s okay.”
Jon nodded.
“Hey, Agent Brookfield,” Keegan answered on the third ring, just as the door to the stairwell was swinging shut behind Jon. “You calling about something specific, or just wanted to hear my voice?” He didn’t sound distressed. Hell, he sounded like sex personified.
“It was the first, but I’m kind of leaning toward the second now,” Jon said with a smile. He didn’t actually want to ask about the meeting, especially if Keegan was okay. The less they spoke of it, the less likely Jon would be to reveal that he and Max had been snooping.
“Then my diabolical scheme is working,” Keegan said, his voice low and smooth.
Letting out a sigh, Jon leaned against the wall of the stairwell. “Why the heck isn’t it quitting time yet?”
Keegan laughed at that. “You say that like we’re going to do something other than have dinner and go home. Alone.”
“We might,” Jon protested. “Third date, after all.”
“Seriously? You go by the—oh, who am I kidding? Of course you go by the third-date rule.” Keegan’s voice sounded like he was close to laughter again.