by Isabel North
David waved a dismissive hand. “Nah. He won’t want to piss Mom off.”
Burke stared at him.
“Oh,” David said, realizing more explanations were required. “He’s the night doorman.”
“You stole the night doorman’s Prius?”
“Borrowed. I’m taking it back. It’s not like I handed it off at the docks for a couple of thousand in cash and it’s in a shipping container halfway to China.” He paused a beat. “If I’d wanted to score some cash that way, I’d have boosted Ms. Jablonsky’s Maserati.”
“Do you have any sense of right and wrong at all?”
“Hey, you let Mom send me to private school. What did you expect?”
“Glad you brought up expectations,” Burke said.
“Uh-oh.”
“This is the last time you ‘borrow’ a car. Hear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now say it without the fake salute.”
David registered that Burke wasn’t amused. “I was desperate and I know what I did was stupid.”
“I believe you think you know, boy, but you don’t. You drove three hours in a stolen car while playing hooky from school, in an attempt to manipulate me so you get to stay in the country, and…you’re smiling.”
“Can’t help it. I’m happy.” David ducked his ear to a shoulder and sent Burke a cheeky look. “Worked, didn’t it?”
Burke had seen that look before, many times. When three-year-old David had fed his new pet, the DVD player, with toast and jelly. When five-year-old David had improvised with hand towels when he’d used up all Burke’s toilet paper. When twelve-year-old David had helped Burke out with laundry and, like the punchline of a bad joke, Burke had ended up with every white item he owned a vibrant pink.
At sixteen, David should know better. Being cute wasn’t enough to get him out of grand theft auto, and Burke intended to provide the strict parental guidance his son, infinitely more criminal-minded than Burke had heretofore suspected, needed. But right now?
“Get in the damn car,” he growled.
CHAPTER FIVE
Lila let herself in to her parents’ house with a cheerful shout. Neither her mom’s nor her dad’s car was in the driveway, but you never knew. Lila had walked in on enough awkward, embarrassing, and downright eye-popping situations in her career as a real estate agent that she had learned to announce her presence.
As this was her parents’ house and not a client’s, she went with yelling, “Your golden child hath returned to bless you with a visit!”
No reply.
Lila hung her jacket on one of the hooks by the front door, kicked off her shoes, hopped into the old pair of Uggs she kept there, and scuffed down the hall to the kitchen.
She was sitting on the counter, swinging her legs and eating peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon, when her mom’s white Jeep came into view and her mom jumped out.
Lila watched her mother plod up to the house, almost swallowed up by the enormous puffy pink coat she wore, a bag of groceries tucked under one arm. That uncanny sense she’d always had for where Lila was at all times kicked in as she neared the house, and she glanced up at the kitchen window.
Lila waved her spoon.
“Hi, honey,” her mother called as she came through the front door, rustling in her coat.
“Hi, Mom.”
Mrs. Baxter dumped her shopping on the table and attempted to pull off a disapproving glare. “How many times do I have to tell you, young lady? Not out of the jar!”
Lila grinned, and stuck the spoon back into the peanut butter. “I’m the only one who eats it.”
“That’s beside the point.”
Lila slid off the counter. “Can I make you some tea?”
“Sure, honey. Thank you.” Mrs. Baxter wrestled with the coat, which was almost as big as she was, and emerged red-faced and sweating.
“Isn’t it a bit late in the year to be dressed for a snowpocalypse?” Lila caught the coat before it landed on the floor and carried it out to the hall to hang it up.
“I like to be cozy,” her mother called after her.
Lila made the tea while Mrs. Baxter put the small bag of groceries away, then she took a deep breath. “Why don’t we go and sit in the living room?”
She wasn’t looking forward to this. She’d put it off for a few days, but it was time to tell her mom that she was leaving Emerson.
She didn’t anticipate this going down well.
“So what’s new with you?” Mrs. Baxter curled at one end of the couch and Lila perched at the other.
Lila set her teacup down and arranged herself in a deliberately casual pose. “Um. Not much. Let me see. Finished the arrangements for Jenny’s party. It’s on Saturday, don’t forget.”
Jenny had spent half her life over at the Baxters’ growing up. Mrs. Baxter was as likely to forget Jenny’s wedding celebration party as she would be to forget Lila’s.
Lila continued, “I managed to find a house for the Martinezes. And, I quit my job.”
Her mother jolted. “What?” It came out in a screech. “You quit? But you love that job.”
“Eh.”
“You don’t love it?”
“I don’t know. I think I do?” Lila slid down and rested her head against the back of the couch. “I like being a realtor. I’m just thinking maybe I’ve been one long enough. Here. In Emerson.”
Mrs. Baxter covered her mouth with a hand and mumbled through it, “You’re leaving?”
“It sorta looks like I might be. Yeah.”
“But why? I don’t understand. I thought you were happy here? Oh, honey, aren’t you happy?”
And that was the crux of the matter.
No, Lila wasn’t happy.
She wasn’t unhappy, either. She was content.
Content made her nervous.
“I’ve been thinking a lot recently.” Her mother nodded encouragingly. Lila continued, “About life and stuff. I took a hard look at what I’ve achieved. And what I’ve yet to achieve. Thing is, I came to the realization that I don’t have a place in Emerson anymore.”
Mrs. Baxter leaned forward, set her cup on the coffee table, and grabbed Lila’s hands. “Just because Jenny got married it doesn’t mean you’ll be pushed out—”
“This isn’t about Jenny!” Seriously, first Kurt thinking she wanted to snag him to father her children because of Jenny, now her mother thinking she was jealous of Derek or something? “It’s about…timing, I guess. Opportunity.”
“I don’t understand.”
Lila sat up, curling one leg under her. “I feel as if I’m spinning my wheels. I’m marking time. Mom. I’ve turned thirty. I can stay here and have a good life, doing what I’m doing and making good money. Or I can be brave and reach for something more.”
“What sort of more?”
“I don’t know yet. That’s part of the fun, part of being brave. I want new experiences. I don’t think Emerson has anything left to offer.”
Her mother considered her. “This is about boys, isn’t it?”
“Argh.” Lila thumped her head lightly against the back of the couch. “Fine. Maybe? Maybe I do want to find love. I’m a red-blooded woman. I have needs. Is that so outrageous?”
“No, honey.”
“I’m not saying I want to bump into the man of my dreams right now, and fall in love, and make babies, and get started with that happily ever after. I’m saying I’d like there perhaps to be a slight possibility that I could. And I don’t think Emerson is going to provide that opportunity. Same goes for my career. Remember I said that I finally found somewhere for the Martinezes? I’ve sold that house three times now.”
“Oh.”
“I have professionally lapped myself. I need more, Mom. There has to be more, and I’m hoping it’s out there.” She made a vague flailing gesture. “Because it sure as hell isn’t here. I handed in my notice to Allison. I’m doing this.”
“I could set you up with someone. There are so
me very nice men in my class.”
“College students.”
“Community college student. They’re not all kids. Some of them are quite mature.”
“Thanks, but no. And while that might solve my lack of a sex life, it isn’t going to solve my professional concerns. Because, again, this isn’t a hormone-fueled husband hunt to fulfill myself because my bestie has found the dream and for some reason that makes people think I want to fall in line and follow her off that cliff. I have to tell you, since I quit already and I’m committed to this path, the absolute last thing I need is to stumble into my soul mate. That really would complicate matters.”
Mrs. Baxter’s eyes filled. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’m not leaving yet.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She clutched her uterus. “I miss you already.”
Lila’s mother had had a terrible case of empty-nest syndrome when Lila left for college, and had been giddy with joy when Lila had returned.
“My nest will be empty again,” she moaned
And there it was. “Mom. Your nest has been empty for some time. I haven’t lived at home since I was eighteen.”
“But you’re here. In Emerson. And soon you won’t be.”
“Think of the upside. Your peanut butter will be unmolested.”
“You’re the only one who eats it. I buy it for you. And you won’t be here! I’ll have sad, unopened, unwanted jars of peanut butter in my cupboard.”
“I’m thirty. It’s time to unclench the maternal grip.”
“I will never unclench. Never. You’re my baby.”
“You can come up to Seattle all the time.”
Her mother brightened. “I could do with more culture in my life. Not that Emerson isn’t brimming with culture and opportunities and nice young men—”
“Mom.”
“—but I suppose Seattle might have a touch more to offer in certain areas.”
“Or San Francisco.”
“No!” Mrs. Baxter clapped a hand over her mouth, then tried to act all cool, like she hadn’t just flat-out shouted. “Um. That’s quite a trip from here, isn’t it? Why would you want to go to San Francisco, anyway? Think of the weather.”
“The weather?”
“They get a lot of fog.”
“We’re in the Pacific Northwest. When it comes to weather, we’ve got San Francisco beat. Eh, it was a thought. I was going to give Gabe a call and see if he had any openings in his real estate department, but maybe it wouldn’t be a good fit. I like to sell homes. I like to put people in homes. I don’t think I’d get the same job satisfaction buying and selling buildings and small countries and whatever else it is Gabe buys and sells.”
Gabe Sterling was a friend and an honest-to-goodness billionaire, although Lila tried not to hold that against him. He’d hire her in a shot, having tangled with her in a professional capacity before and thus being aware of her skills.
Her mother looked relieved. “I think you’d be amazing it at, honey, but I’m not going to lie. I prefer Seattle.”
“Like I said, I won’t be leaving right away. I only told Allison a few days ago. I’ve got to look for a job, put my house on the market…ugh. There are a thousand things to do.”
“It all seems like a lot of effort. Are you sure this is what you want?”
“I’m sure. And don’t tell Jenny.”
“Hmm. Is that wise?”
Yeah, Jenny would freak out at Lila for keeping this a secret, but come on. Jenny was deliriously happy with Derek and Kate and the new baby. Lila wasn’t going to allow even a hint of a shadow to be cast over her happiness.
Did Lila want to talk it through with her? Hell, yes. But it could wait until Lila had found a new job, had a solid plan. A departure date.
By that time Jenny would be so caught up in all the new baby stuff, she wouldn’t have the energy to be pissed at Lila.
Lila hoped.
“I refuse to spoil her fun, Mom.”
“I want to go on record as saying this is a poor decision.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your honesty.”
“Can I tell your father?”
“Nope. You tell Dad, the whole world will know. I’m keeping this between you and me, and Allison. It’s no one else’s business, anyway.”
She’d made the right decision, Lila told herself as she left her parent’s after staying for dinner and then hanging out to watch a fight on pay-per-view with her father.
She’d miss nights like this. She’d miss getting her coffee in the mornings from Megan, and meeting Jenny at Kurt’s, but while she loved all these things, she couldn’t deny the fact she was treading water.
She wanted—needed—more.
Since life didn’t seem inclined to deliver more to her doorstep, then Lila would get her ass out there, and she’d hunt it down.
CHAPTER SIX
This was mistake. A terrible mistake. What had he been thinking? Burke should have politely turned Derek’s invitation down. Instead he’d said yes.
Why?
Burke and parties did not mix. He couldn’t even remember the last time he went to a party. It was possible that he’d still been in high school. Yes, he knew that made him a freak, but he didn’t care. Parties were loud, hot, full of people and small talk.
Why hadn’t he said no? He always said no. But he hadn’t because…because there was a chance, if he said yes, that he might see Lila.
He was such an idiot. He was supposed to be avoiding Lila, not seeking out opportunities to see her again. Opportunities when she wouldn’t be stuck on her phone doing business and he wouldn’t be late for work, or somewhere he was likely to get food on his face.
Derek had caught him at a weak moment.
Burke had been talking to Michaela about David’s transfer to Emerson, which was all happening a lot sooner than Burke had expected, and he’d been distracted. When a steely-eyed Derek had informed Burke that Burke was coming to Derek’s wedding celebration party, Burke had been too distracted to fight back like he usually did, and had agreed by mistake.
The party was supposed to be small. Perhaps it was. Burke looked around. For normal people. For Burke, it was big.
They’d decided to hold it at the Zacharovs’ house. Alex Zacharov was married to Jenny’s sister, Elle, making him Derek’s new brother-in-law. He was a famous metal sculptor, and his house was about four times the size of Derek and Jenny’s. Burke would have preferred Kurt’s bar. It was dark in there, and crowded enough that he could go unnoticed, on the rare occasions he was in the mood to slip in for a drink and watch general humanity revel around him.
It wasn’t that Burke didn’t like people.
It was more that he liked them in small doses.
This wasn’t a small dose, and while it wasn’t dark like Kurt’s, it was still crowded. Kurt was here, along with Dani and Carlo from the garage, Derek’s parents, Gabe Sterling with his wife and baby, and a few other people Burke didn’t know.
And Lila.
She hadn’t spotted him yet.
As soon as Burke had arrived, Jenny had grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the enormous dining table which was laid with a buffet, and cake. She’d put a glass of champagne in one of his hands, a plate of cake in the other, and whisked off.
Burke drifted over to stand beside Dani, who was talking to Kurt. They both understood that his presence beside them didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to talk to them. Besides shifting to include him physically in the group, they left him to stare at his champagne and ponder how long he had to stay before he could leave.
Five minutes later, Burke had eaten his cake, put the champagne down after a cursory sip that had made him sneeze, and decided to break out his old party fallback.
He edged off to the kitchen.
The door swung closed behind him, shutting out the happy chattering voices, and Burke sighed with relief. It was cooler in here without the press of celebrating people, and his claustrophobia dropped away
. The dishwasher murmured and sloshed quietly, an antique clock sitting on a shelf between a mismatched collection of cookery books ticked, and something was snoring.
A pair of dog beds lay close to the old-fashioned stove. A bright yellow dog was sprawled out in such a way that she had claimed them both.
Burke hadn’t met the snoozing animal before, but he recognized her. Sunshine, Gabe’s dog. Gabe had shown him photos. Many, many photos. The man loved his dog almost as much as he loved his wife.
Burke wanted to go over and fuss Sunshine, but she looked so comfortable and relaxed, he left her sleeping. He wandered to stand before the window overlooking the yard and gazed out. It was beautifully landscaped—Jenny’s work, of course. He heard the door open and close behind him and tensed, bracing himself for more small talk.
When he turned around, no one was there. Then he heard the click of nails on the floor.
Burke was standing one side of the central island, and as he watched, a dog bustled around the corner, making a beeline for the large basket of stuffed bears in all colors that had been set beside the dog bowls.
Ah. Another dog he hadn’t met but did recognize. This must be Gargoyle, Alex’s infamously cowardly husky mix, who by all accounts was scared of everything in the entire world, apart from women and the moon.
He was a big, badass-looking dog. Most people would find him intimidating.
Until he made eye contact with them, that is.
One look at Burke, and Gargoyle dropped flat to the floor.
“Hi,” Burke said.
Gargoyle showed him the whites of his eyes.
Burke slowly crouched. He braced one hand on the floor and held out the other. “Come on, boy.”
Gargoyle blinked. Burke smiled and continued to hold out his hand. Gargoyle inched forward on his belly.
“C’mon now.”
Gargoyle shot an anxious look over at the sleeping yellow dog, then fixed his gaze on Burke. He crept forward a few more inches, hesitated, then shuffled up to sitting. He touched his nose to Burke’s waiting hand. He gave it a lick.
“Damn. That’s a lot of drool.”