Ten
Sam had left me an hour later with orders to stay inside his apartment and not to leave for any reason. I wasn’t even awake enough to argue. I was asleep again in seconds with him rubbing circles on my back
I was woken from my second nap of the day by a call from Caleb Reid. He told me that he was the one who had called the police after watching me get stuffed into the car the night before. He’d gone in and filed a report at the police station and then been visited by Detective Kage an hour ago.
I chuckled. “I have no doubt.”
“Are you okay?”
I was, so I told him so before thanking him for calling the police.
He asked me what I was mixed up in, but I returned the subject to Dane.
Immediately, he wanted to know if I was well enough to talk to him.
I told him I would try when I saw my boss later.
After he hung up, I got out of bed and got a glass of water from the refrigerator before looking for something to have for a late lunch, since it was a bit after one by then.
There was only a box of kids’ cereal, and I wondered how a grown man had Lucky Charms in his cabinet.
When I heard the keys rattling in the lock, I was expecting Sam, but found a stunning red-haired older woman instead.
When she looked up from her grocery bags, I was speechless, as I recognized her instantly.
“Ohmygod, you’re Regina Rappaport,” I breathed out, standing there, staring, openmouthed.
Her smile was breathtaking. “Yes, I am. And you watch way too many old movies.”
“Holy shit.” I smiled wide. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”
“So charming,” she said with a throaty chuckle, putting down the grocery bags and holding out her arms. “Come here.”
I dashed over to give her a hug, and she patted my back and stroked my hair. She smelled faintly like vanilla with a trace of rain. I was surprised by how tight she held me.
When she pushed me out to arm’s length, she smiled warmly. “Who are you?”
“Jory Keyes. Sam’s helping me out of a situation I stumbled into.”
“Mm-hmm.” She eyed me, looking me over as I stood there in a T-shirt, sweats, and a pair of Sam’s fuzzy white sweat socks.
“Well, my darling, every week I bring groceries for my two unmarried sons to make sure they don’t starve.
My son Michael, the architect, eats a little better than my son Samuel, the policeman, but not by much.
For instance, the last time I was here there was only a fossilized stick of butter, a box of Lucky Charms, and very old milk.
I will not be surprised if he’s eaten everything I brought and only those three items again remain. ”
I smiled and nodded.
“Help me with these.”
I grabbed four bags of groceries and helped her carry them to the kitchen. She didn’t want any help unpacking, so I sat on one of the barstools and watched her.
“Jory, sweetheart, are you hungry?” she asked absently, still putting things away.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She turned and looked at me, and her eyes sparkled. “Really?”
I nodded, and she patted my hand before she pulled down a frying pan from the collection hanging above her head on hooks. She was dying to take care of me, and I was more than willing to let her.
“How about an omelet?”
“That’d be great.”
She stayed for three hours, and in that time, she told me all about Hollywood in the early seventies, how hard she’d wept when she lost friends, how being beautiful wasn’t as much help as having talent, and how she’d met and fallen in love with a man from Chicago.
He’d swept her off her feet to motherhood and suburbia, and there she’d discovered what she loved more than being in front of a camera.
Being a mother. I listened and ate and told her how I’d been raised by my grandmother and how I’d come to Chicago and where I worked.
She’d heard of Dane Harcourt, and was very impressed.
“You know, Jory, you are just beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“I bet people tell you all the time that you’re simply luminous.”
I knew I wasn’t ugly, but luminous was an exaggeration. Still, it was nice to hear.
“Why don’t you change and I’ll take you to Delvecchio’s for some pie?”
I nodded, smiling, and she caught her breath.
“You really are stunning, Mr. Keyes.”
“Rightbackatcha.”
Her laughter was deep and sultry as she told me to hurry up.
When I emerged in my tight jeans and crisp white shirt under my V-neck cashmere pullover, she smiled wide. I was glad Sam had brought everything from my bathroom as well as all my clothes. I smelled like me again, and I would have died without all my hair products.
“People are going to think I’m a cougar with my boy toy.”
I froze where I was, and she burst into laughter.
“What?”
“I just didn’t think you’d know what a cougar was!”
“Because I’ve been, what, living under a rock all these years? Hello, honey, I have daughters.”
I smiled at her, and she took my arm and led me out of the apartment. As the door closed, she passed me her keys for Sam’s apartment.
“You keep this set, doll. I have another at home.”
I pocketed them and followed her down the stairs and out to her car, which was parked in front of the eight-story apartment building. I liked her silver Lexus infinitely more than Sam’s SUV and told her so.
“I know,” she agreed. “It’s a tank, not a car.”
The bakery was small and intimate, warm inside with little red-and-white-checkered curtains and the same type of window valances.
There was a bell on the front door when you walked in, and the whole place smelled like freshly baked cookies.
I loved it and made a mental note to pick up baklava for Dane the next time I came. It was his favorite.
Regina had a slice of lemon meringue, and I had pumpkin custard.
We talked about her family, about her daughters, her other son, Michael, and about how much trouble she was having finding a girl for Sam.
Once I recovered from almost choking to death on my milk, I told her not to worry about him.
When the right person came along, he’d know. She prayed I was right.
When she dropped me back off at his apartment after two hours of food shopping, she told me to be sure I came for Sunday dinner.
She’d expect me at six with Sam. She invited him every week, but he never went—always too busy.
She was counting on me to get him there.
I promised her I wouldn’t let her down. Her hand stayed on my cheek for several seconds before I got out of the car with all my bags and she drove away. It had been a very nice day.
Every Friday night my boss had dinner out.
He always took at least eight people with him, as well as his current date.
This week, as he’d told me, it was Adagio’s, a very good Italian restaurant, and the flavor of the week was a cardiologist named Kensie Beckman.
When I was shown to his table, she did not seem pleased to see me.
At least she was still polite. The others—his friends, the doctors and the lawyers—didn’t seem annoyed at all to find me there among them.
“Hi-hi,” I greeted everyone, letting out a deep sigh as I turned to look at my boss. “Could I talk to you for one minute, please?”
“Did you eat?”
“No, not yet. But, listen, could I please just—”
“Sit down and eat,” he ordered me. “You look pasty.” There was a pause as he looked at me like he had just thought of something. “And you have a black eye, and you’re bruised. Should you even be out of the hospital?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“So Monday morning you’ll be back at work?”
“I said I would.”
He shot me a look.
“Sorry. Yes, I’ll be in.”
“Good. Nothing gets done when you’re not there. That girl… What’s her name?”
“Who?”
“The receptionist.”
“You know her name.” I scowled at him.
“Do I?”
“It’s Piper.”
He snapped his fingers. “Piper. That’s right.”
“Stop.”
He smiled evilly. “Anyway, she puts everyone through to me. It’s a nightmare.”
“I will be there on Monday.”
“Thank God.”
I smiled at him.
“Sit down and eat,” he ordered me, standing up to motion for the waiter.
“No, I just need to—”
“He’s not going to let it go, Jory,” Jude Coughlin said to me, a huge smile on his face as he took the chair the waiter brought for me and put it down on the other side of Dane. “Just sit.”
I sat down, and Dane turned to look at me, concerned, his dark gray eyes warm. I hated putting him in a bad mood when he was in a good one.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I want to talk to you.”
“No. What do you want to eat?”
“Eat?”
“Yes, eat.”
“I don’t want to eat.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I really don’t,” I insisted, looking nervously around the table. They were all looking at us.
“Never mind.” He shook his head suddenly, turned and gestured for the waiter. “I know what to get you.”
I shed my parka and settled myself into the chair. When I looked up, I found all eyes still on me. “Hey, sorry about this, everybody.”
“No, sweetie, it’s fine,” Marilyn Castro told me, reaching out to pat my arm. “You’re always welcome. You’re more his little brother than anything else.”
I wondered if that was true even as Jude nodded his agreement.
“So talk to me about the cop.”
I looked back at Dane. “What about him?”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re doing what with him?”
“How is that your business?”
“You’re my business.”
I scowled at him. “I have to testify.”
“So you’re staying with him until then?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes.”
“Yes,” I repeated with a roll of my eyes.
“I see. So you can work?”
“I already said yes.”
He nodded. “And if you can’t? Will you quit?”
It was asked very casually, but I could tell from his eyes that my answer was important.
“Do you want me to quit?”
“Maybe the detective will want you to.”
“That’s not what I asked you.”
“Do you want to?”
“Do you want me to?” I repeated, leaning toward him just a little.
“You’re being evasive.”
“You’re being a nine-year-old.”
“Do you want to?” he asked me again, pressing for the answer.
“I refuse to answer before you.”