Only You

by Addison Fox

  “Pretty much. Nick found out the other day and came to tell me. Chili called him from Florida with the news.”

  “Damn. It reached him all the way down there? When did Trent get back?”

  “Chili wasn’t sure. Last few days or so.”

  Daphne waved a hand. “Can you two catch me up for a minute? I get it’s not great news, but maybe you can give me a bit of the background?”

  Fender did just that, giving her the lowdown on his life and the forces that had shaped his childhood. Landon added a few spots of color, and in moments, Daphne was nodding. “I get it. So not only is he not welcome, but if he is here, he’s likely causing trouble, too.”

  “Grifting or kneecapping, one or the other,” Fender confirmed. “Maybe both. He wouldn’t tell me when I went to see him.”

  “You tell Cade about it yet?” Landon had the words out before his mouth dropped. “You saw him?”

  “Yeah. A little while ago at Duckie’s.” The moments still clung to him like glue and he couldn’t shake the urge to wash up. “Cade’s my next call. But I wanted to talk to you both first. We need to keep an eye on Mom.”

  “Did the bastard say something?” Landon sucked in a hard breath. “You think she’s in danger?”

  “I’m not sure I’d go quite that far, but if he sees he can fuck with her, I think he will. He might not have wanted me, but he wasn’t crazy about it when someone else got a hold of me. She bested him, and he doesn’t take that lightly.”

  Landon nodded, but it was Daphne who pushed on. “When was the last time you saw him or had contact with him before today?”

  “About fifteen years ago. He got real interested when Nick was drafted. Saw Easy Street and dollar signs over an NFL contract. Nick disabused him of that notion.”

  “He sure did.” Landon grinned, his hand tapping on the table. “For a big guy, Nick’s pretty mild mannered until someone starts messing with him. Trent figured that out quick.”

  “And he left after that?” Daphne continued pushing, her police training keeping the discussion on track.

  “Best as I know,” Fender said. “He never contacted Nick again, and he’s left me alone. I haven’t heard from him or any of his so called friends.”

  “Has he contacted your mother?”

  “No again.” Fender glanced at Landon for confirmation. “She’d have told us if he had, you think?”

  “At this point, yes. If he nosed around when we were kids probably not, but at this point, she’s more than willing to level with us.”

  “She didn’t over Gretchen Reynolds.” A frown marred Daphne’s fresh, pretty features as she pointed out the recent obvious. “Is it possible she kept this from you all?”

  Fender considered their conversation and Louisa’s shock that Trent was even back in Park Heights. “I don’t think she’s been hiding anything about him. She hasn’t had a reason to, either. Gretchen was an embarrassment. The old man is just an asshole.”

  Landon nodded before lifting his hands from the table as their lunch was carried over. Gino’s grandson set the sandwiches down, his grin wild. “Where’s your girlfriend, Fend? Pretty lady like that dump you already?”

  “Smooth, Dominick. You still pulling your dick out back because you can’t get a woman to look at your ass?”

  Dominick shot Fender a dark look but walked away. Fender could only be grateful they’d had the exchange before lunch had arrived, or he’d likely have something extra on his sandwich. But it was when he glanced up and caught sight of Daphne’s open-mouthed stare that the real remorse kicked in. “Aw, I’m sorry Daph. That was nasty and crude.”

  “So you really are dating Harlow?” She barreled right on past the obvious crudity—likely the product of having four brothers, Fender figured—and on to the headline.

  “We’ve been seeing each other.”

  “Where? I thought you two were actually a little frosty to each other Friday night, so figured maybe we’d only imagined something was going on.”

  “Look. It’s nothing.” He had an amazing night nagging his memories that said otherwise, but Fender tried to keep a straight face and ignore Daphne’s badgering.

  “Are you seeing her again?”

  “Daph—” Landon tried to butt in, but Daphne was already on the hunt for details.

  “I told Emma that you guys were an item. Told her I could see it. And she agreed, but then you walked her out the other night and you looked like a grizzly bear. I figured something had happened and it was over before it had even started.”

  “A bear?”

  “Yeah. You got that lumbering Fender look that sort of screams ‘don’t fuck with me.’ Like a bear. So we left it alone.”

  A lumbering bear? “Maybe you should still leave it alone.”

  She waved a hand at him. “Oh no. You don’t get to go all silent on me. I need details.”

  “There aren’t any details.”

  “Are you seeing her?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?” She shot back. “How do you sort of see someone?”

  “When her father had an affair with your mother, it’s a sort of.”

  The reality of the situation seemed to momentarily stymie Daphne, but she recovered quickly. “That’s ancient history. It has nothing to do with you.”

  Fender shot a pointed stare at Landon and knew without a doubt that she was wrong. His brother had finally come to grips with the truth, but Fender was quite sure L wouldn’t characterize Louisa’s infidelity as ancient history.

  “What are you looking at me for?” Landon reached for his sub and took a big bite.

  “Do you agree with her?”

  “I’m staying out of this. I finally got my head on straight about the whole deal. I’m not interested in dredging that one up again.”

  “So you’d be okay with me dating Harlow?”

  Landon cocked his head, considered, before swallowing his current bite. “Based on the way you look at her? Yeah, I’d be okay with it.”

  The endorsement humbled Fender and was yet one more sign of what a good guy his brother was. But it wasn’t enough to keep him from pushing back. “Thanks for that, but there’s still no way Mom will be.”

  “Mom’s not the one dating her.” Landon pointed out.

  And just like that, the argument he’d been using to keep his heart safe flew out the window.

  “Mom loves you and wants you to be happy,” Landon pressed on. “She’d be the last one to stand in your way.”

  “When are you going out next?” Daphne asked.

  Landon gave her the side eye—a mix of humor, acceptance, and the realization that he was going to put up with Daphne’s persistence for at least the next fifty years of his life. Despite that—or maybe because of it—Fender could see his brother wasn’t all that upset about it.

  It also meant his brother was no help as Fender navigated the new territory of nosy sisters-in-law.

  “Tonight. We’re going to dinner.”

  “Let’s all go.”

  “What?” He and Landon said it at the same time, Landon’s mouth full of meatball.

  “It’ll be fun. I’ll round up Nick and Emma and we’ll make a night out of it in the city.”

  Fender quickly sought to stop that train as it barreled down the tracks. “Look, Daphne, that’s nice and all, but I’m not sure—”

  She reached over and patted his arm, her smile bright. “I’ve got Harlow’s number. I’ll call her myself and let her know the plans.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Sure I do.” She winked at him. “If it were up to you, we wouldn’t even know for a fact the two of you are dating. I’m not letting you off the hook that easy. I’ll take care of plans.”

  Daphne’s words were still ringing in Fender’s ears as he got up to walk out of Gino’s twenty minutes later. Landon had to get back to his office in DUMBO for a meeting, and Daphne ran out to make her next appointment, but she’d promised to have Cade
swing by the shop. Fender was heading back there now to meet her brother and discuss Trent Blackstone, their whirlwind lunch still ringing in his ears.

  A group date?

  Women, Fender wondered to himself as he pulled a tip from his wallet. He and his brothers had gone from having no one serious in their lives to so serious they were interfering. He wasn’t sure quite what to make of it, but once he’d seen the determination that squared Daphne’s shoulders and set her chin in stubborn lines, he knew the battle was lost.

  He tossed the tip on the table, his gaze alighting on a lone figure eating his lunch a few tables away. The guy looked vaguely familiar, and Fender tried to place him but failed. Customer of the shop, maybe? Or just someone he’d seen around over the years?

  He left a nicer than usual tip for Dominick, sorry for the asshole comment about tugging his dick out back, and walked out the door.

  If he’d been paying better attention, he’d have remembered the lone figure and recognized the man as one of his father’s fellow leg breakers, Donny Brewer.

  Never a man to miss an opportunity, Donny already had a text winging through the ether to Trent, full of all the details about Fender Blackstone’s new girlfriend.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Harlow stared at the assembled crew around the table and couldn’t remember an evening she’d enjoyed more. Well, she amended, except for the night before. But she’d enjoyed that for entirely different reasons.

  “I’m stuffed.” Daphne waved a hand before placing it over her midsection. “But I can’t pass up tiramisu. Don’t make me eat it alone.”

  “This place has a really good one, too.” Harlow dropped her small dessert menu back onto the table. “Count me in.”

  Dinner had been an unexpected surprise, but a welcome one. Her mother’s visit earlier had shaken her up, and Daphne’s call shortly after lunch had given her something to look forward to.

  And something new to worry over that didn’t involve her mother.

  She’d met Fender’s family, but an evening out with them under the scrutiny of being “the girlfriend”—or whatever she actually was—carried some pressure, but she’d been oddly grateful for the distraction. She was even happier all her worry had been for nothing. The same warmth and kindness that had welcomed her the prior week at the End Zone was in full force.

  She also realized about halfway through dinner that Emma and Nick and Daphne and Landon had recently been in the same position as she and Fender—newly dating and navigating their way. They kept the conversation moving and didn’t dwell too long on parts of the discussion that might get weird.

  With dessert decided on, Emma announced a visit to the ladies’ room and in the great tradition of women everywhere, she, Emma, and Daphne stood up to go en masse. In moments, the three of them were stuffed into the small powder room at the back of Angelo’s.

  “This is a great place,” Emma said as she pulled out a lipstick.

  “I’ve been coming here since I was a kid.” Harlow said, matching Emma’s movements. “Angelo’s father emigrated from Italy, and the family has had this space for nearly sixty years.”

  “I keep forgetting Manhattan has neighborhoods just like Brooklyn does.” Emma let out a small laugh. “Which is silly, since everywhere has neighborhoods. It’s just that sometimes Park Heights seems so small and the city seems so large.”

  “Tell that to my mother. She’s convinced there are eyes everywhere, just waiting to judge my every move.”

  Emma’s gaze shot to hers in the mirror, and Harlow knew she’d said more than she’d intended. None of them had brought up or even hinted around the reason she’d come into Fender’s life in the first place, yet here she was, airing her dirty laundry the moment she had a chance to vent.

  “Did something happen?” Daphne stepped out of the small bathroom stall and joined them at the sink. “I know we haven’t been the souls of discretion but I won’t tell Landon.”

  “And I won’t tell Nick,” Emma added.

  Since she was going to tell Fender, discretion wasn’t really a problem, but Harlow appreciated the show of solidarity. “It’s nothing.”

  “You sure?” Emma pressed.

  “I’m—” Harlow stopped, the thoughts she’d had earlier in the week coming back in full force. She didn’t have close friendships and the only way she would get them is if she tried harder to open up.

  “My mother showed up today at my gallery. She’s been weird lately.”

  “Weird how?” Daphne asked. The question was kind and didn’t seem to hold any censure, yet Harlow didn’t miss the sharp awareness that filled the woman’s eyes. It was easy to forget Daphne was a cop, but that moment was a clear reminder that she missed little.

  Harlow considered a moment before settling on the word that had seemed most descriptive of her mother’s behavior over the past few months. “Brittle is the only word I can think of to describe her.”

  “Mad at the world, I bet.” Emma said. “I saw it in my father as he tried to deal with my mother’s death. I still see it from time to time.”

  “I thought it was getting better,” Daphne asked.

  “Sometimes it is, and I can see him coming out of it. And then there are other days when you see the vulnerability. I think we forget that. Somehow because they’re our parents, we don’t think about how they’re dealing with their own things.”

  It was the first time Harlow had thought about it that way—that her mother was as vulnerable as she was.

  Emma waved a hand. “But this isn’t about my father. Please keep going, Harlow.”

  That small kindness—the willingness to listen—broke something wide open in Harlow. “It’s like she’s so mad at everything. At my father whose been dead for almost a decade. At me because she wants something out of me I can’t give. At the people in our lives who make up our social circle. She won’t say this, and I’m not even sure she’d characterize it like this, but it really is like she thinks everyone is watching and cataloging us. Keeping some sort of running tally of our decisions.”

  “Do you think that?” Daphne’s question was gentle. “Do you feel that way? Or do you think it’s happening?”

  “I think people are far more worried about their own lives than mine. Do they like to gossip? Of course. Do they actually care? I’m hard-pressed to believe that.”

  “Maybe she needs you to say that.”

  Something harsh settled in Harlow’s chest, tumbling out on a hard laugh. “This is someone who won’t even acknowledge she’s angry in the first place. Getting her to believe these fantasies she’s painted in her head are wrong? I’m not sure that’s possible.”

  “I’m sorry you’re dealing with it and that it’s hanging over your relationship with Fender.” Emma tucked her lipstick back in her purse, the move casual, yet Harlow sensed her words were anything but. “Our family loves us, and they think they know what’s best for us, but they don’t. Not always.”

  “You sound like you speak from experience.” Harlow said.

  “If it had been up to my father, I’d still live in Chicago, stuck in a bad marriage, with no future, no degree, and no brewery.” Emma caught Harlow’s eye in the mirror. “I’d say I knew my path far better than he did.”

  Fender hadn’t said much about Nick’s fiancée or their relationship other than the fact that Nick and Emma had done battle earlier in the summer over her family’s brewery. It was obvious they’d overcome quite a bit to get to where they were.

  In a funny way, it was that honesty—and the acknowledgment that things were still rocky from time to time—that buoyed her spirits.

  Her mother didn’t run her life. And while Harlow wanted Gretchen’s approval as well as her happiness, she wasn’t beholden to her mother’s dreams, wants, and desires.

  She was beholden to her own.

  It was high time she remembered that.

  * * *

  “You can keep eyeing that door, but they won’t come back until they’r
e good and ready.” Landon spoke like a man with experience. “Last week Daph and Jasmine disappeared for almost an hour at her mother’s house when we went there for dinner. Which means I got stuck listening to nearly an hour of cop stories from her four brothers.”

  “You don’t like the cop stories?” Nick asked.

  “I like ‘em fine when they’re peppered into conversations about other things. An hour of listening to nothing but elaborate takedown accounts about some of the scumbags who share our streets with us? That’s knowledge I could have lived without.”

  Fender knew Landon was only trying to make conversation, but the reality was that his father was one of those scumbags. His earlier conversation with Daphne’s brother, Cade, had been met with seriousness and more than willingness to look into the problem of Trent Blackstone.

  It had been met with a willingness to act.

  Cade was going to comb his father’s rap sheet and see what, if anything, Trent had gotten involved with since leaving Brooklyn. He was also going to alert his fellow cops of what to look out for. Brooklyn might be big, and the NYPD had a lot to keep up with, but they protected their own. Ten minutes with Cade, and Fender was humbled to realize he and his family now fell into that category.

  “I talked to Cade after lunch. He’s a good guy.”

  Landon nodded. “One of the best. All my future brothers-in-law are, even if they do love their stories. What’d he say?”

  Fender glanced toward the door once more before filling his brothers in on what he and Cade had discussed. Although Trent was probably nothing more than a nuisance, he and Cade had worked through a few scenarios. Nick and Emma needed to keep extra eyes on the brewery, just to make sure nothing suspicious happened around the grounds. Their security was already top-notch, so simply asking the guards to stay extra alert on duty was all that was likely needed there.

  Daphne would see to it that there were always extra eyes on Mama Lou’s public appearances, and Landon had already loaded up an additional layer of security on her website. All that left was Fender’s shop.