“Yes, well, this will be work related unfortunately,” she said, winking at him as he entered her office.
They had finally gotten to a point where they could joke about the great sex they had together. Though neither side made any moves to rekindle the relationship.
He stood, picking up his jacket and followed her to the elevators.
Tim watched them leave. He wondered if they were a couple, they seemed awfully friendly with each other. He thought that Lieutenant Chevalier was the most incredible woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
As they walked out of the building, Midnight looked down at her watch. “Oh shit,” she said.
“What?” Rick asked.
“It’s getting on toward five o’clock. Shit, shit, shit,” she said shaking her head.
“Is that a problem?” Rick asked, confusion on his face.
“Oh it’s no big deal, I have a date at seven, and I’ll probably be late as usual,” she said, looking at him.
She saw the slightest flash of jealousy, but it didn’t bother her. She saw it in Joe’s eyes a lot too; it was just some kind of man thing, she figured.
“Who’re you going out with?” he asked, trying to keep his voice sounding normal.
“Oh, he’s my old training sergeant.”
“Old?” Rick asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
Midnight laughed. “I mean old as in a long time ago not in terms of age.”
“Oh okay I was going to say with the way you are,” he was smiling now.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Midnight said, eyeing him in mock offense.
“Well, just that you tend to be insatiable,” Rick said, looking up at the sky nonchalantly. They had stopped at Midnight’s car and she was looking at him over the roof.
“Maybe for you,” Midnight said then, her eyes watching him for a reaction.
He looked directly at her, trying to determine if she had meant it or not. He saw no malicious intent in her eyes, so smiled at her. She was the first woman he had ever slept with that had not turned nasty and vindictive when the relationship ended. And that was something considering the way their relationship had ended. She returned his smile and then got into the car.
“So where did Joe go?” Rick asked.
Midnight shrugged. “Randy says his aunt got here early.”
“Oh shit,” Rick said, rolling his eyes. “She wanted to get a head start on him, then?”
Midnight laughed. “Yeah, probably.”
Rick just shook his head. “I understand Joe’s gonna have Randy with him.”
Midnight nodded. “I think he’s pretty serious about her.”
“Taylor will not like that at all,” Rick said seriously.
“Because Randy’s poor?” Midnight asked, her hackles up instantly.
“Because Randy isn’t Roslynn Ellington,” Rick corrected.
Midnight pressed her lips together in annoyance, but said nothing else.
A half hour later, they had the warrant and were headed over to serve it. Midnight radioed ahead and had two or three black and whites meeting them there.
The service went surprisingly easy considering the way that the last raid had gone. Midnight ended up having to run down and tackle one of the guys that tried to make a break for it, and Rick was right behind her. Midnight sat straddling the guy’s back and she reached behind her for her cuffs. She looked up at Rick and she could see he looked surprised.
Midnight was right, he was surprised that, one: she had managed to catch the guy, and two: she had managed to tackle him alone. She was constantly surprising him with her strength and determination.
This one he had definitely not figured out yet.
Joe had been right; Midnight was totally unlike any woman Rick had ever met. There was nothing coy, or wilting about her, she was not shy, nor was she overly tough as to be too masculine. She managed to keep an even balance between being a woman, and doing a job that was geared more for men. And Rick found it very interesting. He constantly found himself watching her to see what she’d do next that would shock the hell out of him.
Now she was watching him, as she sat on the two hundred pound man on the ground. She had cuffed him and was now standing to pull him up. Rick stepped in, and she let him. He took the guy by the arm and walked him toward the waiting patrol car.
As he patted the guy down he couldn’t resist saying, “Fast little thing, isn’t she?”
The guy didn’t say anything. Rick could tell he was mortified at having been run down by a woman, and one of Midnight’s slight size, no less. Rick laughed, shaking his head. He put the guy in the patrol car and turned to look for Midnight. She was talking to one of the uniformed officers. He watched her as she placed her hand on the officer’s arm talked animatedly. The officer was looking down at her with obvious interest. Midnight didn’t seem to notice at all.
She looked up at one point and saw Rick watching at her. Her eyes locked with his and from the look she gave him, he realized she did know what effect she was having on the officer, and she was obviously using it to her advantage.
Ten minutes later, she was motioning him to her car. He walked over, his smile wide. “And just what kind of spell did you put on that poor patrol officer?”
“The ‘oh please god I don’t want to do all this paperwork or I’ll never get to my date on time!’ spell,” Midnight said, laughing.
“You are the worst, Midnight Chevalier!” Rick said.
“Yeah, I know but hey I didn’t pull rank or anything, I just asked and … okay I batted my eyelashes a few times but I didn’t promise him anything so what’s the big deal? Right?”
He could tell that she didn’t like to use her feminine wiles too often, and she was basically asking for him to agree with her so she wouldn’t feel like she’d done so unfairly.
“We men are pigs, Midnight, and if he gets stuck doing extra paperwork ’cause he thought it might get somewhere with you, that’s his mistake,” he said, his voice sure and supportive.
Midnight relaxed a little. Yet another huge difference between Midnight and every other woman he’d ever dealt with; she did not like to use her body or her face to get her anywhere.
“I’m just going to drop you by, I hope that’s okay,” Midnight said, as she drove back toward the office.
“No problem, but do you have time?” he asked, looking at the clock on her stereo; it was already six thirty.
“Mike’s used to me being late. I always am, I guess I’m kind of a lousy date,” she said, her voice holding a bit of chagrin.
“You are a perfect date, Midnight, and this Mike is very lucky to have one with you,” Rick said, his eyes on her.
He wasn’t sure what had made him say that, but he didn’t like her getting down on herself. In his opinion, she was pretty fantastic, and she shouldn’t believe anything different.
Midnight looked over at him, her eyes disbelieving, but she smiled at him. “Thanks,” she said simply. She certainly wasn’t a gusher either.
She dropped him off a few minutes later, waving as she drove off. He watched her go, standing in the parking lot. He felt a little pull at his heart, but he shook his head, and turned and walked into the building.
****
Randy arrived in a taxi at Joe’s house at seven. She looked beautiful in a soft blue dress. Joe handed the driver cash as he opened the door for her, smiling.
“You look incredible,” he told her, leaning down to kiss her softly.
“Thank you,” she replied looking a little apprehensive.
“So she arrived okay?” Randy asked.
“Yeah … You ready for this?” Joe said, eyeing her.
“No!” she said. Then she sighed. “But will I ever be?”
“Probably not,” he said. He touched her under the chin then, and looked her straight in the eye. “Just remember that I love you.”
She smiled at him and he took her hand to lead her into the house.
Taylor hadn’t joi
ned them yet. Joe poured Randy a glass of wine. He noticed that her hands were shaking as she took the glass. He took her other hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze. Just then Taylor swept into the living room, always one for grand entrances, even in limited company.
Randy was very surprised at how young Taylor looked. Joe had told her that she was his mother’s youngest sister, and that she was forty-five or so. Apparently, she always lied about her age. Looking at the beautiful, petite blond woman, as she reached up to hug Joe, Randy thought she didn’t look a day over thirty.
“Joseph Michael,” Taylor said in the most upper-class English accent. “You look so handsome,” she said, standing back to look at him, “but that hair … Don’t they have hairdressers here in America?” She eyed him critically, shaking her head.
“Yes we have hairdressers. I just got it cut about a week ago.”
“Good Lord, Joseph, the girl must have been blind, she missed your hair altogether!”
Joe laughed, knowing his aunt was serious. She had never liked his long hair, and it was about an inch longer than it had been when she’d seen him last.
“Taylor …” Joe said then, turning to Randy, who was standing just behind Joe, wishing she was somewhere else. He reached out, taking her hand and pulling her forward. “This is Randy. Randy this is my Aunt Taylor.”
Taylor stood stock still, looking at Randy. After a few long moments, she slowly extended her hand to the younger girl. “Lovely to meet you, dear,” she said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
Randy shook her hand, and tried to smile, but she was dying to get away from this woman with the cold blue eyes.
Joe could see Randy was reverting back to her shy habits. He reached out, touching her waist, and squeezed it just slightly to let her know he was there with her.
“Taylor, would you like a drink?” Joe asked.
“Wine, please, Joseph,” Taylor said, even as her eyes stayed on Randy critically.
Joe poured the wine and handed it to Taylor.
“Why don’t we sit down?” Joe suggested.
They sat down; Joe and Randy sat on the couch and Taylor sat across from the in the Eastlake chair. Like the judge, Randy thought to herself.
Joe’s cell phone chimed. Joe merely looked down at the display, then put the phone down on the table.
“That job of yours?” Taylor asked, her tone disparaging.
“Yes,” Joe answered, trying to keep the conversation light. He didn’t need his aunt starting in on his profession now too, but it was too late.
“Well, I don’t think much of your work, Joseph. I don’t see why you don’t just come back and manage your father’s company like he wanted …”
“Because I don’t know anything about running a publishing company, Taylor,” he answered, gripping Randy’s hand a little tighter. “Besides, I like what I do.”
“Getting calls at all hours of the night? Getting stabbed, shot, and Lord only knows what else?” Taylor remarked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“I do a little bit more than that Taylor. Getting shot and knifed are just some of the fringe benefits.” His voice was sarcastic now, and Randy could feel that he was losing his cool.
She put her other hand on his leg, trying to calm him down. It didn’t go unnoticed; Taylor looked at Randy’s hand on Joe’s leg for a moment, then she looked at Randy.
“So what does your family do, Randy?” she asked, her look innocent enough, but her eyes belied that innocence.
“Well …” Randy said, not sure how to answer.
“Don’t bother, Randy,” Joe said, his voice calm again. His eyes narrowed at Taylor. “Drop it, Taylor.”
“Joseph,” Taylor said, her eyes widening at his words. “I think that it is perfectly reasonable to want to know what kind of people you’re attaching yourself to.” Her voice was the epitome of upper class.
“Not now, Taylor,” Joe responded, his voice still calm.
“I see,” Taylor said, her gaze sliding to Randy again, then back to Joe. “Have you spoken with Roslynn lately?” she asked, her eyes boring into her nephew’s.
“Not since I left England nine years ago, Taylor,” Joe said, some of his irritation showing through again.
“Well, you should call her, Joseph. She’s been asking about you.”
“I thought she was married now,” Joe replied.
Taylor shrugged delicately. “She is, but … things aren’t quite working out …” On the surface she seemed so casual, just making conversation, but the way she looked at Joe said otherwise.
Joe narrowed his eyes at her. He knew exactly what she was getting at and he was pissed at her for bringing Roslynn up with Randy in the room. “Well things are working out for me.”
“Joseph,” Taylor said, obviously surprised at his response.
“Taylor,” Joe said, in a good imitation of her tone of voice. “Randy is the woman I’m with.”
“But your parents …” Taylor began to say, but her voice trailed off as she saw the anger flash in Joe’s eyes.
“My parents what, Taylor?” Joe asked coldly.
“Well frankly Joseph, they just wouldn’t approve. It was their wish that you and Roslynn—”
“Well they’re not here are they?” Joe said, cutting her off.
“Joseph Michael Sinclair!” Taylor said. Her eyes flashed at him indignantly and her voice rose angrily. “I will not have you mocking the dead!”
“And I,” Joe said, his voice equally strident, “will not have you presume to tell me what they would have wanted! I’m not who I was before, I’ve changed and that has changed everything around me.”
“It certainly doesn’t change your status, Joseph,” Taylor countered, her voice sneering. “Nor does it change the class to which you should associate yourself!”
Joe grinned a sardonic grin then, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Taylor. It does change it. Before, I only wanted to make my parents happy, now I want to make me happy!”
“And never mind your duty,” Taylor again countered.
“What duty, Taylor?” Joe asked, sighing. He knew they were getting nowhere, and he could feel Randy trembling beside him. He could only imagine what this conversation was doing to her self-esteem.
“To your family name, Joseph,” Taylor said, as if speaking to a dull-witted child. “If you’ll pardon my saying so, the Sinclair name has seen generations of only the finest caliber bloodlines.”
“Good God, Taylor! You make us out like we’re Goddamned race horses!”
“Joseph!” Taylor exclaimed.
“Taylor!” Joe sighed again, leaning back against the couch. “I never did fit into this family very well, did I? I was always the wayward son.” His voice was quieter then, and Randy knew that he was feeling very hurt by what Taylor was saying.
“Yes, that’s true enough, Joseph, but you were young, and no one remembers the sins of youth …”
“They don’t, do they?” Joe said, his voice growing sarcastic again. “Do they remember a young man killing his own parents so he could inherit their money?” Randy looked at him sharply and could see the fire burning in his eyes.
“What?” Taylor responded, her eyes widening.
“That’s what they all think isn’t it, Taylor? That I killed them?”
“Joseph, all charges were dropped …”
“I know that, but that doesn’t mean that I was innocent, right?”
Taylor didn’t answer for a long two minutes. Her eyes stared at Joe’s, but then lowered to the ground. Randy looked at Joe, and she could see a flash of pain cross his eyes.
“You don’t even believe me, do you?” His voice was so quiet, like he was trying to lessen the impact of what he was saying, on himself.
Taylor looked at him then. “Joseph …” she started to say, but her voice trailed off, as her eyes once again dropped from his.
Randy felt his sharp intake of breath and saw how devastated he looked.
�
�I don’t fucking believe it!” he said after a few moments. His eyes shone with tears, but his face contorted in a cynical mask.
“Joseph Michael! I will not stand for that kind of language!” Taylor said, and Randy knew she was trying to avoid the subject, and divert Joe.
“You won’t, eh?” Joe said, standing and taking a menacing step toward his aunt.
Randy stood too, putting her hand on his arm. Joe stood staring down at Taylor, his eyes pools of light blue fire. “Tell me, Taylor,” Joe said, his voice pure ice, “did you ever believe me?”
Taylor sat looking fearfully up at her nephew, but Randy could see her warring with the emotion. Taylor stood suddenly, her eyes flashing indignantly at Joe.
Randy felt Joe’s arm tense under her hand. “Joe,” she said, her voice cautionary.
Joe’s eyes were still on Taylor, but at the sound of Randy’s voice he looked down at her. His eyes softened as she looked up at him shaking her head slightly. Taylor was astounded that such a slight girl could have such an impact on her bull-headed nephew. She had never seen him react to any woman as she had just witnessed. After a few tense moments, Joe stepped back allowing Taylor to pass. Without a word, Taylor left the room.
Joe walked over to the bar and poured a succession of shots.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I need to take you home.” His words were short and he still looked so angry. Randy just nodded. There was nothing she could say in that moment to make it any better.
The ride to her house was quick. Randy got out of the car, and Joe left without a word. She had no idea what was going on in his head, but she was afraid for him.
****
Midnight got to Mike’s at seven fifteen. She was pretty proud of herself for only being fifteen minutes late, and Mike, as usual, didn’t say anything. He had dinner ready. Mike Harlow was a very good cook; over the years he had cultivated a fair repertoire of recipes that were fantastic. He was still single at forty-five, and he said he refused to eat take out all the time, so he’d learned to cook.
Midnight took up her usual place on his couch; she never liked to eat formally at his dining room table. Mike had a nice comfortable house. It was cozy in a warm cluttered kind of way, much like Tom Ryan’s house. Mike hadn’t even bothered to set the dining room table this time; he remembered her habits.
Building Empires (MidKnight Blue Book 1) Page 19