Marie wasn’t sure what to do with this new version of her mother.
“Anyway, after I quit therapy I realized that I hadn’t needed it for a long time. What I needed—wanted—was Bruce. He makes me laugh. I make him laugh. He loves me in a way I’ve never been loved, Marie...”
She wasn’t sure how much of this she needed to hear.
“Don’t be angry, baby.”
“I’m not.” In the least. Shocked, yes. Doubtful, yeah, that, too.
“So... Bruce—he’s, what, ten years older than you?” She’d met her mother’s therapist once. When her mother had asked her to join them for a session. She and Gabi had been in town during summer break and Gabi had joined in, too. Because Marie had asked if she could. That must have been five years ago or so.
“Seven.”
“And divorced?”
“He’s never been married, Marie. I know it’s hard to believe, but he said he just never met a woman he cared more about than his work. Until me.”
Wow. It sounded like a fairy tale.
And a disaster waiting to happen?
“When’s the date?”
“Next weekend. In Las Vegas. At our age, we just want to get the legalities out of the way and start living life. We’re going on a nearly three-week Caribbean cruise for our honeymoon, and then, later in the year we want to take a trip to Italy.”
A week and two days away. For once in her life Marie was speechless. Her mother was getting married—not to her father—in less than two weeks.
“I know I’ve shocked you, Marie. But please be happy for me, sweetie. Please?”
“I am happy for you.” And she was also worried. “Even if the happiness in your voice only lasted a week, I’m thrilled to hear it, Mom. Truly. I’m just...as you say, shocked.”
“Bruce and I... We were hoping that you’d be there. For the wedding.”
Nancy and Eva could run the shop—especially with Grace there. And Sam would cover extra weekend hours, too, if she needed him.
“Of course I’ll be there.”
“And... Marie...bring Gabi with you, please? She’s like a daughter to me. And I want her there for you, too...”
“Gabi’s married, Mom, remember? You aren’t all that fond of Liam. And I’m not asking her to leave her husband behind.”
“I sent them a wedding present,” Barbara reminded her. “And I’d expect her to bring him. He’s part of the family now, too. Whether I’m fond of him or not.”
There was no whininess in her mother’s voice. Could Marie hope things really had changed?
She should have seen it before now. And maybe she would have if she hadn’t been so caught up in her own drama.
She’d just been telling Elliott the night before that her mother’s calls had been much less frequent for the past several months.
“I can’t guarantee they can go on such short notice, but I’ll ask them,” Marie said. “I’ll call you tonight and let you know my travel plans.”
Barbara told her when she and Bruce would be arriving in a second city that never sleeps. Told her at which resort Bruce had already reserved rooms—for all of them. At his expense.
She told Marie, once again, how happy she was.
And then, just before she rang off, she said, “Do I have your blessing, sweetie? Do you think I’m making a mistake?”
The vulnerability that Marie’s father had instilled in her mother wasn’t gone. Maybe it never would be. And Marie didn’t honestly know what to think. Except, “You should do what you’ve always told me to do, Mom. Listen to your heart.”
“My heart tells me I need to do this. I want to marry Bruce. I can’t wait. But your opinion is important to me, Marie. You really think I should go through with it?”
How the heck did she know? “I think a minute of pure joy is better than a lifetime of worry and unhappiness.”
Which was all her mother had known in far too many years.
“Thank you, sweetie. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom.” Marie hung up the phone.
And burst into tears.
* * *
A NOTICE WENT out to all the Arapahoe residents, informing them of the recent coffee shop vandalism, listing the added security in the front of the building as well as the back, and assuring them that everything was in place to protect their physical safety. Marie, Gabi and Liam, with Elliott present on his insistence, held a meeting for any residents with questions or concerns after Marie’s shop closed Friday evening.
Elliott didn’t speak at the meeting. He stood in a corner of the room, by the brand-new window, where he could see all the other windows, the locked front door and the hall leading back to the elevator, stairs and Marie’s office, as well. He wasn’t particularly concerned about imminent danger. He was just doing his job.
One he couldn’t quit.
Whoever was after Liam Connelly was a threat, to be sure. One that was expected to escalate. At some point, if the police didn’t catch this guy, violence was going to happen. But for now...
“We’ve not only doubled our live security coverage and have someone watching the building—both front and back—twenty-four/seven, but the police are also watching the area more closely. In addition, some of you may have noticed the crews working about the building this afternoon. We now have security cameras positioned strategically on every floor, in the elevator, in the front and back of the building, in the parking lot and in the laundry room.” Liam, in jeans, and a shirt and tie, was addressing the mostly elderly tenants.
He fielded a couple of questions regarding his own personal safety from the tenants in the twenty or so apartments represented. The Arapahoe had a total of thirty-eight apartments on eight floors.
Grace was there. And Elliott recognized the woman whose mother was a candy stealer, Janice. The mother, who was not present, was Clara. Dale and Susan Gruber had come down. Elliott heard Marie ask the woman if she’d enjoyed her trip to the theater. And was kind of touched by the way the woman’s face lit up as she described the romantic date in great detail.
Matilda Schumann, wife of Ben, the smoker from Marie’s floor, had come in alone.
He didn’t see either Edith Larkin or her somewhat senile next-door neighbor, bathroom wanderer Gordon Brinley.
One of the two younger tenants was present. A man who wore black plastic-framed glasses and worked as a paralegal for a private law firm.
The other, a couple who’d been married within the past year, Elliott had only seen twice in the three months he’d been around the place.
Liam concluded the meeting and while Marie served coffee and cookies, Gabrielle answered a flurry of questions from the people who’d gathered around her. Elliott wanted to help. But he stood back.
Watching.
Because that was the job he was being paid to do.
* * *
“CAN I TALK to you all a minute?”
Elliott turned around at the door of Marie’s apartment as she asked the question. Liam and Gabrielle had come in with him, as they had the night before, as he assured himself that nothing had been disturbed. He’d expected to be alone in his room within the next five minutes.
Needed some time alone. To assess. Plan.
To have a good long talk with himself. And pray that it worked as well as it used to do. Before he’d set eyes on Marie Bustamante.
“Something wrong?” Liam asked, placing his hand on Marie’s shoulder. He was closest to her. And not for the first time, Elliott had to bite back a hint of irritation at the other man’s perceived ownership of Marie. Gabrielle was his wife.
Of course, he knew the threesome had been best friends for more than a decade. Knew, too, that Liam would give up his life for Marie.
And knew that he had absolutel
y no business whatsoever feeling as though he was on the outside looking in. Or rather, being displeased with the feeling. Of course he was on the outside looking in. The Arapahoe belonged to the three of them. The friendship belonged to the three of them.
He was on a job.
Marie sat down and Gabrielle took a seat next to her, concern on her face. “I’m so sorry this is happening, Marie. You’ve had nothing to do with any of this and it’s your shop that’s taking the hit,” Gabrielle said.
“What?” Marie looked at Gabrielle and then up at Liam. “Hey, we’re in this together, you guys. I’m upset about the brick through the window because it means you’re still in danger.” She looked at Liam. “But I’m not upset with either of you.”
“Then what...” Gabrielle’s voice faded as Liam took a seat in the armchair perpendicular to them, leaving Elliott to remain where he was. By the door. An almost outsider.
He had a pretty good idea he knew what was coming. And wished it wasn’t. Barbara Bustamante’s call an hour ago had given him a headache that wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.
“If you’re worried about loss of business, I’ll take care of it,” Liam was saying, his elbows on his knees as he leaned toward the two women. “I’ve already spoken to one of Connelly’s top marketing people and will have something more solid for you by Monday...”
“No!” Elliott was a bit taken aback by the look of dismay on Marie’s face as she replied to her friend’s offer before he’d even had a chance to finish making it. “Business is booming and right now I can’t afford to expand. We don’t have the space, and I’m not prepared to hire and train more people. Besides, we promised that we’d keep Threefold and Connelly Investments separate entities.”
She turned to Gabrielle. “Tell him, Gabi...”
Gabrielle smiled. “I already did. Before he made the call and afterward, too.”
Marie stared at Liam, who looked prepared to stand his ground. Elliott had been right where Marie was. And was a bit curious to see if she’d get at least a compromise—which was all he’d ever been able to get out of the stubborn man.
Marie didn’t blink. Neither did Connelly. Gabrielle looked from one to the other of them, her lips turned up in a slight smile.
No one said a word.
And Liam Connelly bowed his head in defeat.
Impressed, Elliott had to restrain himself from sporting his own grin. He’d wormed agreement out of Connelly several times—but only by proving that Liam’s physical safety and the safety of those he cared about was at risk.
“So, if this isn’t about the brick, what’s going on?” Liam asked. He glanced in Elliott’s direction.
All hint of humor evaporating, Elliott kept his expression neutral. And hoped he was wrong about what was coming.
“My mother’s getting married.”
Nope, he wasn’t wrong. Barbara had called him after she spoke to Marie. She wasn’t thrilled about the way things had turned out in the conversation with her daughter—wasn’t thrilled about the fact that now that Connelly and Gabi were married, she had to accept him as part of the wedding party. But she wasn’t half as displeased as Elliott was. Or as she would be if she had any idea why Elliott wasn’t pleased.
“You’re kidding.” Gabrielle’s face held no pretense of a smile now. “Again? I really thought, this last time...”
“She’s not going to do it again,” Liam said, straight-faced, as well.
Marie shook her head, her eyes wide, and it looked as though she was trying to put on a happy face. “She’s not marrying my father.”
“What!” It was the first time Elliott had ever heard the prosaic attorney screech.
“Not your father?” Liam’s tone changed, filled with more of his usual eagerness. “That’s great, Marie! She finally let go and moved on.”
“Who is he?” Gabrielle’s question was sharp and shot right on top of her husband’s congratulatory remarks.
“Bruce. Her shrink.”
“We met him, didn’t we?” Gabrielle asked Marie.
“Yeah, once.”
“We liked him.”
“Yeah.”
Gabrielle nodded. “So maybe it’s not so bad. I mean, I don’t like the whole therapist/patient thing, but...”
“She’s been out of therapy since that last round with Dad.”
“That was right before we finalized Threefold, right?” Liam asked. Elliott could have nodded right along with Gabrielle and Marie.
“Apparently she’s been off her meds for almost a year, too.”
“Wow.” Gabrielle was smiling full-out now. “That’s great news, Marie.”
“I know.” Marie nodded. Rubbed her hands together.
“So why aren’t you happy?” Gabrielle asked next.
“Has your father called?” Liam asked. “He’s not giving you a hard time, is he? You can get an order of harassment out on him, can’t she, Gabi?” He looked to his wife.
And Elliott almost smiled. The man was a piece of work. A workhorse with a heart, who gave “make it happen” all new meaning. He was also irritating, frustrating and...kind of decent.
“No!” Marie said again. “No one needs to go after Daddy. Liam, I’m okay, really. You can relax.”
“You don’t seem okay,” the other man offered with a shrug.
“Mom hasn’t told Dad yet. And when she does, I’m sure he’ll call. I can handle him. The problem is, the wedding is next weekend and Mom really wants you two to be there. I know it’s short notice and there’s probably no way you can leave...” She looked at Gabrielle first, then at Liam, and back to Gabrielle. “But I really want you there,” she finished. “I don’t want to do this one alone.”
Marie’s voice broke.
Elliott half turned away.
“Hey,” Gabrielle said, and Elliott turned back in time to see her put her hand over Marie’s. Elliott couldn’t read Marie’s expression now, but he saw her reach up a hand as though she was wiping away a tear. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m being a selfish goon. It’s just...first you and Liam. And then Burton. And now Mom...”
“We’ll be there,” Gabrielle said, shooting her husband a glance. “Liam’s working a lot from home right now anyway. I can move my appointment schedule around. I don’t have court Friday afternoon or Monday. And it’ll be good for us all to get out of town for a few days. Away from this kook who’s after Liam...”
Elliott wasn’t a praying man, but he issued a silent request in the second that followed. One that would require Liam Connelly to say he couldn’t possibly get away. Or even that he didn’t want to.
“Of course we’ll go,” Liam said. And then added, “Are you sure the invitation included me?”
“Positive. I reminded her the two of you were married and she specifically said that you were part of the family now.”
“Wow.” Gabrielle knocked Liam on the knee with the back of her hand. “See what marrying me does for you? Gives you entry to the inner circles.”
Liam was grinning. “I have to admit I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Me, either.” Marie and Gabi shared a grin as they both spoke at the same time.
Elliott knew that Barbara Bustamante didn’t trust Liam. He hadn’t realized how much the woman’s disregard had affected the other man. Or the two women, either.
And that was when Liam turned to Elliott. He’d been expecting it to happen. Just wasn’t sure what he was going to say. Or do.
Barbara expected him to show up in Las Vegas with them. She thought the trip would give Elliott time to observe the young financier in the city of sin. Specifically to see if he had his father’s talent for, and addiction to, gambling.
Elliott doubted his ability to spend a weekend that would be emotional for Marie, in her comp
any, without crossing professional boundaries.
“I guess you’re going to Vegas,” Liam said. Elliott had been hoping the other man would give him the weekend off. And had been trying to figure out a way to convince his number-one client, Barbara Bustamante, that he couldn’t possibly leave Denver on such short notice.
He was trying to convince himself that he could be just a friend to Marie, wanting to be there with her so she wouldn’t be a third wheel everywhere they went.
Elliott felt compelled to tell Liam, “I don’t expect you to be in any danger from this guy in Las Vegas.” He couldn’t ethically charge Liam for the hours in Vegas.
“Let’s just say I’m getting kind of used to having you around,” Liam said, sharing a glance with Gabrielle.
“That’s not really necessary, is it?” Marie asked. Her voice was hesitant. And he was suddenly foolishly hoping that she was protesting his presence because she thought she should, not because she didn’t want him there.
It would be for the best—her best—if she didn’t want him there.
But he knew she did. Just as he knew he wanted to be there. With her.
“This guy’s making me nervous,” Liam said. And Elliott figured anyone would be hard-pressed to doubt the sincerity in the man’s tone. “Who’s to say he wouldn’t follow us to Vegas?”
Everyone looked at Elliott. “There’s an outside chance.” One he couldn’t completely discount.
“So, good,” Gabrielle said. “It’s decided. We’re going to Vegas!” She made the announcement as if they’d just decided to vacation on a Greek isle.
Marie talked about the arrangements Bruce had made for their stay. Liam offered to have his secretary at Connelly book the flights.
And for the first time in his life Elliott wondered if he’d just taken on more than he could handle.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MARIE WAS TOO nervous to sleep. Too het up to sit still. Had it only been a week since she was in her bathroom with Gabrielle, getting ready to go out to dinner on a pseudo-date with her and Liam and Elliott? And now, in one week’s time, the four of them would be flying to Vegas to spend the weekend together?
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