29
Step-Uncle
“Good morning,” Stephen greeted Don with a smile and a coffee.
Don closed the lid of the laptop he had been staring at. “I’m sorry, have we met?” He shuffled a bunch of papers into a neat pile and took the proffered coffee from Stephen's hand. Don had taken over the entire seating section of the cockpit area; there were stacks of documents everywhere, a huge laser printer, and three laptops. Stephen couldn’t figure out why Don needed three, but he didn’t want to ask. If he asked that question, it would be followed up with a three-hour lecture on process and investigatory techniques. He wasn't up to it.
“Meaning?” He raised an eyebrow in Don’s direction.
“You tell me. You’ve had a headache every day over the last week and have never once said good morning. You must be an alien interloper. What have you done with my miserable friend, Stephen?”
“Funny.” He pushed aside a stack of folders, which Don grabbed quickly and moved to the table. “Have you noticed anything funny about Ginny?”
“Other than the fact that she’s a lazy, spoiled brat who doesn’t do any work? No. Why?”
“I just thought you should know I saw her with Brad yesterday. It looked like she passed him a note or something.”
Don laughed, “I very much doubt that’s a police matter, Stephen. This sounds more like a concerned uncle conversation to me.”
“I’m not her uncle,” Stephen said a tad too quickly.
“Step-uncle, then. I think Sara asked you to look out for her, did she not? If I know anything about Ginny, she wants to use Brad’s services, all right—just not the ones I’m investigating.”
“Sara only dumped her on me so she could get her out of the house. I think having her around last summer almost started divorce proceedings between her and Alden. I guess I still have a responsibility, though. I’ll go find her.” He stood and Don brushed off the bench to put his folders back on it. “I was wrong about that Maureen girl, by the way.”
He hadn't meant to say anything about her, but he just couldn't get her out of his mind today. Not only did he not have a headache, but his entire person felt lighter than it had in two years. Maureen had something to do with that.
“Oh?” Don smiled at him over the edge of his coffee cup. “How?”
“I think it’ll be nice to have her on board—you know, someone who appreciates the service, unlike Brad, who might be appreciating the services of my niece. What an ass.”
Don turned back to his computers and started typing rapidly. The corners of his mouth were lifted in a smile, but he said, “Careful, Stephen. As far as I’m concerned, Maureen's part of my case. We don’t know her relationship to Brad, yet.”
Stephen nodded and left to find Ginny.
What was Maureen's relationship with Brad? He would bet his life she wasn't sleeping with him. As far as he could see, they didn't have that level of intimacy. How long had they been dating? What was Brad hoping would happen with her? As Ginny's step-uncle, he was totally justified in warning her off Brad. Could he do the same for Maureen?
He was halfway down the hallway when Don called out after him, "Send Marshall up here, would you?"
Everyone had been stunned when Don decided to join the police force. He was a stellar student from a well-known family, so it wasn’t exactly the career path expected of him. Stephen had understood completely, though: Don had an unshakeable belief in morality. The world was black and white, as far as he was concerned, and more than once he had told Stephen that it didn’t matter what your background was or what religion you followed, everyone knew the difference between right and wrong. Most of all, he had a strong sense of justice and hated when people who enjoyed a privileged background benefitted at the expense of others.
Everyone had known Don would take his brilliant mind and apply it to something in the legal system. His family probably expected him to be a lawyer or a judge, but that was too high-brow for Don, so he’d chosen the police force. He had progressed quickly to a high-ranking detective, and now he dealt with investigating primarily financial cases.
He hadn’t been able to share very much with Stephen about this case, but he knew it had to do with taxes. Brad wasn’t an art collector, but a sophisticated tax dodger, and he had extended his services to others. Brad had figured out how to work the Bahamian system and extend the tax-free benefits of the island nation to very wealthy US clients. Don had told him a little about fake passports from the US embassy, political bribes, and corrupt banking connections.
It was a dangerous business, and Brad was too naïve to realize there was plenty of competition who wouldn’t like having him around. Hopefully, however, Don would be able to get enough evidence to take him out of it before he found himself in trouble. The intrigue and excitement were a part of why Stephen had decided to take on Don’s offer of a distracting break from his normal, now very boring, reality.
Stephen considered his comment about Maureen. She couldn’t be a part of all of this, could she? She was no gangsta moll. He chuckled at himself for being so paranoid. His damaged heart was trying every last-ditch effort to convince him that his attraction to Maureen was trouble.
He headed toward the back of the boat and caught a glimpse of Ginny exiting Brad’s cabin. She looked flushed and happy. He had seen her walking out of the staff quarters this morning, so thankfully she hadn’t been there all night. Still, it was time for a nice talk with the uncle.
30
TMI
Gosh, this Magnificent Mo stuff was exhausting. Maureen was completely inexperienced with the rigors of an extended morning routine. As Sally had directed, she picked out her most Mo-like outfit: a tiny, denim mini-skirt, sparkly sandals, and a ruched, plunging-necked, white top that accentuated her waistline, but made Maureen feel a bit like a Barbie doll. She rarely wore anything other than pants and certainly never wore anything this tight.
When she looked in the mirror, all she could see were bare legs and curves. It made her want to run into the impossibly large closet and grab a shawl, but hopefully it would make Brad want to run toward her. She had also plucked her eyebrows, a process she hated, but one that Sally had also declared a must, and then she’d executed the make-up routine Sally had documented for her, printing out full-color illustrations as a guide. Some folks might call Sally bossy, but Sally called it thorough.
It had taken Maureen over two hours to prepare. Joe had knocked lightly on her door this morning to let her know breakfast was being served outside on the deck, and now she was finally prepared to show herself. She opened the door and nearly bumped head-first into Ginny, who was about to knock. She looked mad.
“Here,” Ginny said, thrusting a folded note into her hands.
“Thanks. What is it?”
“Uh… it's a note.” Sarcasm was dripping from her tongue. She was about to leave, but she suddenly stopped and gave Maureen a once-over. “Wow, big improvement over last night. You look good.” All hints of sarcasm were gone.
Maureen wasn’t sure if a compliment from Ginny was a good thing, but she smiled, anyway, to be polite. “Thanks.”
“So, did you have fun with my step-uncle last night? He’s about the most boring guy in the universe, not to mention a real ball-breaker.” Ginny took a step forward and looked over Maureen's shoulder into her cabin.
“He’s your step-uncle?” Maureen stepped back, as it seemed Ginny was intent on coming in.
The girl walked in, as though she owned the place, and plopped down on the bed. Maureen winced, having just made the bed and spending a lot of time on her hospital corners. A cleaning fairy had visited while she was away last night and turned down her room, and she had the urge to make their job a little easier, hence the hospital corners. She was uncomfortable being waited on.
“Yep. My dad married his sister. So, technically he doesn’t have the right to tell me what to do, right?”
Maureen moved back toward the open door, trying to give Ginny the
hint, but she wasn’t buying and stayed exactly where she was. “Well, I don’t know. I mean, I don’t have any stepfamily, but I’m sure he’s only trying to help.”
Ginny blew air out of her mouth in a stream of disgust. “Help! He’s going to lecture me about relationships. He is the last person who should be talking.”
“Oh.”
Maureen was uncomfortable with this conversation, but it didn’t look like Ginny cared much. She leaned back against Maureen’s pillow and picked up a chocolate from the nightstand that had been left by the cleaning fairy the night before. Maureen watched in amazement as she casually unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth. Her sense of entitlement was astounding.
“Listen, I can’t tell you everything that’s going on around here because even I don’t know why Stephen decided to take such a stupid working vacation. I can tell you, though, that my family is all a little confused. I mean, I understand it was a tough break up, but it was two years ago, for God’s sake! How can he still be losing his mind from two years ago?”
“Losing his mind?” Maureen couldn’t help it. She had to admit she was curious.
“So, my aunt, Lulu, was Stephen’s wife. They met at my dad’s wedding when I was like ten, or something—I can barely remember it. God knows why she married him—I mean Sara, my step-mom, understands that, when you marry into society, you have to make an effort. Stephen never did and his roots showed. He didn’t do the right charity balls, didn’t network with the right people, and didn’t even take the right vacations. They went to like, Spain once, or something." She finished the chocolate and tossed the wrapper toward the wastebasket next to Maureen's makeup table. It missed. “It’s no wonder Lulu ran off with his best friend. Who could blame her?”
“Wait, sorry. Did you say your aunt cheated on Stephen with his best friend?”
“Best friend and business partner, yeah. He even caught them in the act is what I heard. Anyway, Auntie Lulu married Uncle Paul in the end, and believe me, he is a much better fit for the family. Stephen’s been miserable about it for two years.” She glanced at her watch and jumped up off the bed. “Gotta go. He’ll be on my ass if I’m not helping those dumbo jocks with the deck rinse.”
Ginny flounced out of the room, seemingly oblivious to the amount of very personal information she had just disclosed to a complete stranger. That girl had a lot of growing up to do. Maureen was just glad she wasn’t going to be around her while she did it—she could foresee some disasters in her future.
So, Stephen had a broken heart, did he? Maureen felt empathy and affection rise in her at the thought of what he had been through. No wonder he was sometimes moody; he was so young to have already suffered the pain of a divorce. At least she wasn't the only one making shitty choices when it came to partners. The evening before popped into her head and she remembered how sweet he had been about her admission that people walked all over her. No wonder he was so kind: he knew what it felt like to make bad choices. Maybe if Brad wasn't around, she would see if she could find him.
She felt a rumble in her tummy and realized she still hadn’t eaten a thing. She was headed toward the door when she remembered the reason for Ginny’s visit and looked down at the folded note in her hand.
Maureen,
I hope you are enjoying the Lauren Belle. So sorry I had to run out of here and not spend any quality time with you yesterday. Let me make it up to you. I have calls all morning, but would love to have lunch with you on the rear deck overlooking Atlantis. I have asked Joe to create something special just for the two of us. Will you join me?
She heard Sally’s voice in her head, You see, you idiot? Brad wants to have lunch with you! What are you doing, thinking about the boat guy? Magnificent Mo would not feel bad for the boat guy.
Maureen pictured lounging with Brad on that cushy sofa, champagne flute in hand, and felt her stomach flutter a little. He oozed charm and sophistication—even his writing was charming. She needed to snap out of her funk and get herself together. She had a job to do here, and one thing Maureen knew how to do well was a job. She would grab herself some food and come back to her room to continue her Magnificent Mo education and practice. Impulsively, she grabbed the “Make Every Man Want You” article for a quick glance. Breakfast wasn’t going anywhere.
She had all the right body language and was making eye contact, but it was only the lie that had caused him to show any interest. She needed more ammunition, because lying wasn’t going to work for her in the long-term game. She needed to move to step two. She sat down in Ginny’s warmed-up spot, grabbed a few chocolates to tide her over, and flipped through the pages. Here it was: step two.
Be Mysterious.
Men don’t like women who are an open book—they prefer a challenge. They like to imagine their woman had an exciting past life, like as a spy or the lover of an Arabian prince. Do you want him to know your life is just average and boring, or do you want him to believe you have some deep, dark, sexy secrets he could only uncover if he stayed with you long enough? The latter, lady, the latter. So, go ahead and be mysterious! Don’t give his questions direct and easy answers, but respond with questions of your own. Add a hint of a challenge and act as though you share some intimate secret. Make him curious, because curious men stick around.
She put down the magazine and headed to the mirror to practice. Now that she had direction, she had a little more confidence. She would put Stephen out of her mind and introduce Brad to Mysterious, Magnificent Maureen.
31
Playing With Fire
“So, what is my beautiful lady up to today?” Nandita smiled at Brad’s soft purr coming through the phone. She still couldn’t believe she had got up the nerve to call him, and the fact that he had called her again this morning amazed her. They had spoken for almost two hours late yesterday afternoon, and although he had to leave for a dinner appointment, he had called her again this morning as she was getting ready to leave for class.
“Oh, I just have school,” she said, “although I love it,” she added quickly, not wanting him to think she was an airhead.
“School’s good, but vacation is better.”
Nandita laughed softly. “I told you yesterday, Brad; there is not a chance of me coming to the Bahamas. My brother would never allow it.”
“It seems he is the boss of everyone. I recall hearing pretty little Maureen saying your brother was her boss.”
Nandita felt a stab of guilt. She knew Maureen really liked Brad. She shouldn't be talking to him while Maureen was there on vacation and trying to get to know him. It felt wrong, but she had done so little wrong in her life. Aside from her major trip to the US, she had never done something just for her, without thinking of anything or anyone else. She couldn’t resist talking to Brad, plus, it seemed like he liked her. It wasn’t her fault that he was interested in her and not Maureen, was it?
“How is Maureen? Is she having fun?”
“The only person I can think of is you, beautiful. I saw her yesterday briefly, but you are right; I need to pay more attention. Even if she didn't get the hint that I meant the invitation only for you, she did come all the way down here. I guess it's my responsibility to show her a good time, right?”
“Of course! You should make sure she’s having fun. Maureen is a really good person. She’s a little shy, but once you get to know her, she’s great. She’d do anything for her friends. Satish has a lot of respect for her.”
“Hmmm… well, enough about her. I need to hear more about you. Tell me what you want out of life.”
Nandita looked at her watch. She had at least twenty minutes before she had to leave for school. If she hit traffic, she would be pushing it, but being late to one class wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? She settled into her chair and tucked her feet under her.
Brad listened attentively to everything she had to say and encouraged her to go after her dreams. He was so sophisticated and had experienced so much. Yesterday, he had told her about growing
up in Connecticut, his summers in the Hamptons, and his skiing trips to Europe. After they had talked, she had received an email from Sachin and had felt so terrible that she didn’t even have the urge to open it. Compared to Sachin, Brad was in a different league. Suddenly, what she had thought to be a raging, passionate fire of feelings for Sachin seemed so naïve and small-minded.
Twenty minutes later, they were winding down their conversation when there was a loud knock on her bedroom door. She quickly pressed the end button and tucked the phone into the side pocket of her backpack, which she threw over her shoulder, before opening the door.
“I’m just about to leave for the boutique and wanted to make sure you weren’t late.” Claire smiled at her easily. ”Who are you talking to?”
“Oh, just Misty. Don’t worry, I’m on my way out. I won’t be late.”
“Must have been an intense conversation—you and Misty are usually much louder than that.” Claire handed Nandita a brown paper bag. “It’s a muffin. I made them last night. My dad used to make me muffins to take to school and I loved it.”
Nandita felt a rush of affection for Claire. She was an amazing person who had changed her brother’s life. Despite his strictness with her, Claire had made him softer, happier, and more open.
A twinge of guilt pricked her throat for the lie she had just told, and she choked out the words, “Thanks, Claire. I’m sure I’ll love it.”
Claire frowned at her. “Is everything okay, Nandita? Anything you want to talk about? You can talk to me about Satish, you know. I know he can be strict, but it’s only because he wants to do the right thing. He’s learning. I can intervene, if there is something you want me to work on?”
Unstoppable: A Sweet Romance (Jersey Girls Book 2) Page 11