In A Fix: Torus Intercession Book Two, page 15
“So, Cate, may I offer you an omelet?”
She made a face. “I don’t like the yolks or meat and––”
“How about an egg white omelet with spinach and avocado?”
There was a pause as she studied me.
“Well?”
“Really?”
I nodded.
“Then yes, please,” she almost whimpered.
She watched me as I began the prep work, but then leaned down to dig in the rucksack masquerading as a purse to find her phone. She took a deep breath before answering. “What?” She listened for a moment. “No, I totally disagree. I don’t think calling it the Women’s Wellness Center is a good idea. That’s going to appeal only to older women, not the demographic we’re actually after.”
I caught bits and pieces as I made coffee, using a blend I had come up with for the guys at the office and making myself some tea. Waving at Cate, I pointed at the coffeepot and the teapot, and she pointed at the tea, and therefore made a place for herself in my heart forever. We tea people had to stick together.
The second she was off the phone with whoever made her cry again, she got a call from her mother, and I knew that from the “I can’t talk now, Mom. I’m about to eat the world’s greatest omelet.” There was a pause. “Croy made it for me.” Another pause. “Oh, I wish, but no, he belongs to Dallas.”
And I was going to correct her, but she put the phone on speaker and put it down on the counter so she could take the plate I passed her.
“Mom, he made hash browns too. From scratch. I watched him grate the potato.”
“Are you serious?”
“You’re on speaker,” she said with a snicker before she dug into her plate.
“Croy?”
“Hello,” I said, horrified that I was talking to the mother of a man I hadn’t even known for a full twenty-four hours yet.
“You’re cooking for my daughter?”
“Yes, ma’am. She looked like she needed some food.”
Cate moaned in the background as I poured her some orange juice and put buttered wheat toast down beside her plate.
“Is it good?” her mother teased her.
“Ohmygod, Mom, it’s so good.”
“Well, I will definitely need to come see, then.”
What?
“You’re almost a half an hour away,” Cate reminded her.
“Normally, but the way I drive, it’s more like fifteen.”
“She drives like a maniac,” Cate assured me.
“I was coming to check on the state of your brother’s refrigerator before yoga, so I’m almost there anyway.”
“Likely story,” Cate whispered, happily rocking back and forth in her chair before she raised her voice. “Listen, Dallas isn’t awake yet, so don’t be noisy when you come in.”
Silence.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Dallas is sleeping.”
More silence.
“At eleven thirty in the morning?” she finally said.
“We’re working a case together,” I informed both women, “so we were up late last night.”
“Are you with the FBI as well?” Cate asked between bites.
“No, I’m a private contractor in town from Chicago.”
“What?” Cate gasped.
“Oh heavens, no,” his mother said and then hung up.
I flipped my omelet, adding the cubed ham and mushrooms, red peppers—because I didn’t like the green ones—and an excessive amount of cheese.
“Is she actually coming over here?” I asked Cate.
She nodded, back to looking sad.
“So, tell me why Women’s Wellness Center is a no-go.”
“Oh,” she said, deflating, “well, I wanted to call it Stirrups, because we have this sort of western theme going and because, yes, we offer counseling that doesn’t include therapy horses, but the horses are a huge part of our business.”
It explained her outfit, the riding boots that had seen better days and the breeches, as well as the dirt on her pale blue polo.
“And you have a partner, or partners?”
“Partners,” she explained. “Two of them, both counselors like me, and they feel that calling it Stirrups makes it sound like we’re a gynecologist’s office or something.”
“And your contention is that Women’s Wellness Center misses the mark as well.”
She nodded.
“I understand the idea of stirrups,” I told her, swallowing my bite before speaking, because I wasn’t raised in a barn. “Because they help you up, keep you balanced, assist with control, and even allow you to rest.”
“Yes,” she almost whimpered. “Exactly. You get it.”
“But I can see where your partners might think stirrups would lead to thoughts of an obstetrician.”
She groaned loudly.
“What about Shepherds?” I asked her. “Because I understand what you’re saying, but I think some women might feel like you’re comparing them to cattle.”
“Really?”
“It’s possible,” I said gently. “But I think with something like Shepherds, you still have the steering component, but hopefully no one will think of sheep that are more traditionally cared for because you keep them. It gives off the same vibe as the steered, driven, guided thing, and you shepherd people along, not in the sense of sheep but in the sense of mentoring and guiding. And you can still get the sheep-horse connection, because horses are used in the corralling of flocks, right? You’re not driving something somewhere to eat and drink, but instead you’re guiding them. You need a logo that denotes shepherding the recovery of your people through––”
“Yes!” she squealed, grabbed her phone and was already talking to, I was guessing, her partner, or partners, when the front door opened and a woman came through.
She was older, maybe late fifties, early sixties, and she was in yoga pants, some high-end walking shoes, a white polo and, much like her daughter, had a purse that she could easily fit a small child into. She took off her oversized Prada sunglasses as she crossed the floor to the island.
“Good morning,” she greeted me, holding out her hand.
I took it, squeezed gently, and smiled, because I liked her smile, the same one she had gifted to both her children. She had given her son his gorgeous bone structure, his sunset-colored hair, though hers was darker, as was Cate’s, but not his eyes. Hers, like Cate’s, were a lovely, bright Caribbean Sea blue, not the storm-washed depth of her son’s.
“I’m Jackie,” she said, beaming at me, walking around the island to take a seat beside her daughter, who was talking animatedly to whoever was on the other end of the line.
She picked up Cate’s fork, took a bite of the omelet, and then smiled up at me. “That’s very good,” she praised me.
“Can I make you one?” I offered, going back to my own food for a moment.
“No, no,” she said, glancing over my shoulder. “But I would love some tea.”
“It’s Irish Breakfast, is that okay?”
“Wonderful,” she said, chin on her hand, looking me over. “You know he has a milk frother. I bought it.”
“Where?” I asked her.
She pointed, and I got it out and made her tea a latte, which I guessed was what she was hinting at.
“So, Croy,” she murmured, sipping her tea, “I’m having friends over tonight, just a casual meal, drinks and dinner. I’d love it if you and my son came by.”
“Well, ma’am, I’m not sure what he’s got planned, but I’ll ask him as soon as he wakes up from his nap.”
She nodded. “And he’s been sleeping for a bit, has he?”
“He needed the rest.”
“Wore him out, did you?”
I choked on my orange juice but recovered quickly. “No, ma’am,” I rasped, my voice barely there. “He was just tired.”
Her eyes narrowed. “My son tends not to sleep at all. Ever. I’ve taken to popping in and restocking the refrigerator, and if I get here early enough, it’s not unusual to meet him on the way in.”
“He’s a very committed agent,” I told her.
“It’s the walk of shame, Croy,” she informed me with a cynical eyebrow.
I chuckled. “It happens.”
She cleared her throat softly. “But never, ever, I can promise you, have I found a man in his kitchen.”
“Well, as I said, because we’re––”
“Working a case together, yes.”
“Who are you talk––”
Dallas was frozen under the arch that led from the hall into the living room and kitchen.
“Oh no.” He almost whined.
“You should put on some clothes, darling,” Jackie suggested cheerfully, because the only thing he wore was the towel around his waist. “We’re having breakfast.”
Instant scowl. “I told you I didn’t need you to put food in my fridge, and you don’t have to come over here and––”
“Oh, I didn’t do the shopping, sweetie. Croy did,” she said, baiting him. “And I’m not cooking, he is.”
His gaze shifted to me. “You cook?”
I grinned at him. “Only a little bit.”
Full whimper then.
“Would you like an omelet?”
He nodded.
“You want meat in it, or egg whites and avocados, like your sister?”
“Meat, please.”
“Okay,” I said, smiling at him. He looked really good in only a towel. It hugged his beautiful round ass, and I had a hard time turning away from him.
“You made coffee too?”
I grinned at him, and he crossed the floor, walking right up in front of me and putting his hands on my hips.
“Did you know when you smile, your whole face lights up?”
No, I did not know, because that was not my default. I glanced over his shoulder at his mother and sister, both leaning forward, chins resting on their hands, elbows on the counter, smiling, and then returned my gaze to his. “I don’t normally do that.”
“What? Smile?”
Quick nod from me.
“Oh, that’s a shame,” he said gruffly, leaning in. “You should smile all the time.”
I shouldn’t have kissed him there, in front of his family, because it would send the wrong signal, but he expected the closeness, the caring, the intimacy with his lover, and I would not disappoint him. In fact, the man brought out every protective instinct in me. Not to mention that there were marks on him that I’d put there with my teeth, and stubble burn because I hadn’t shaved before we wound up in bed, and some lovely hickeys on his abdomen. I was more restrained than that most of the time, took what I wanted and left. But Dallas aroused the need in me to let others know that he was claimed. Even as I brushed my mouth over his, I found it impossible not to press my hand to the small of his back and pull him close to me.
If we were alone, I would have dropped to my knees right there and worked fingers into his ass as I blew him, but since we had an audience, I let him go and told him to change so he could eat.
His eyes drifted open, and he turned and walked away from me, back toward the hall. His sister and mother watched him until he went around the corner and then swiveled back to face me. I took an involuntary step back because they both looked a bit predatory all of a sudden.
“Where do you live?” Jackie asked me, her tone not quite sharp, but not as friendly as it had been moments before.
“In Chicago,” I answered hesitantly, cracking eggs for Dallas’s omelet.
“And what’s there?”
“Pardon me?”
“In Chicago,” she clarified. “What is in Chicago?”
Ah. “I work for a––”
“No,” she snapped, taking a sip of her tea and then looking back at me, pinning me with her gaze. Clearly, she was waiting.
“No?”
“I want to know what, outside of a job, keeps you in Chicago.”
I had to think.
It was subtle. Her eyebrows lifted first, then her head tipped just a bit, and then came the smile that a cat probably wore once it knew the canary had nowhere to run. “No family?”
“No, ma’am.”
She almost purred. “You have a lot of friends there?”
I shrugged. “I have a few but––”
“So it’s really just you,” she said, laser focused on me. “You’re all alone.”
“No, I’m not alone, I just––”
“I want to reiterate about dinner,” she told me. “I want you both there.”
“That’s very gracious of you,” I said softly, watching as Dallas came back into the room in low-slung jeans that had seen better days, faded and threadbare, and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He was barefoot, and when he reached the island, he took the seat on the other side of his sister, not next to his mother.
“You borrowed a sweater, I see,” Dallas said, hands folded in front of him, smiling at me.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all. You wear whatever you like. You look good in my clothes.”
I grinned at him. “What do you take in your coffee?”
“Just milk.”
Since I had purchased half-and-half at the store, I put the carton down in front of him with the mug of coffee and a spoon.
“This is amazing,” he told me after taking a sip.
“It’s Croy’s special blend,” Cate announced to her brother.
“I’m glad you like it.”
His eyes never left me.
“Darling.”
Dallas leaned forward so he could turn his head and see his mother as I focused on making his omelet.
“I was telling Croy that I’m having a dinner party tonight. If you’re not working this evening, I’d love it if you and he could come by.”
“I don’t think that’s something that––”
“It’s been so long since your brothers saw you.”
He grunted.
“Dallas?”
“Mother, I don’t have brothers. I have a sister. Just because you got remarried doesn’t make the cover models any relation to me.”
I flipped his omelet, and then again, and put it on a plate. “I’m loving this pan,” I told him.
He groaned.
“I bought that,” Jackie chimed in. “Whenever I find something wonderful, I grab one for all my kids.”
“That’s really nice,” I told her. “One of the guys I work with, Locryn, his mom is like that. She sends odd things to the office because she doesn’t want them dropped off in the middle of the day at his place.”
She was smiling at me.
“Last month he got the world’s greatest ice cream scoop, apparently, and it’s always fun to hear him on the phone with her.”
“And your mother, Croy?” she asked as I put hash browns on Dallas’s plate and then passed it to him. I got him utensils and a napkin, and since Cate hadn’t eaten all her toast, she moved it over between them. “Where is she?”
“Mom,” Dallas whined, squinting at her, “could you not?”
“I think she and my father live abroad at the moment, but I don’t know for certain. We don’t speak, haven’t since I graduated from high school.”
“Oh,” she said, like that news physically hurt her. “I’m so sorry.”
Reaching across the counter for her, I was not surprised when she grabbed my hand tight. “It was a million years ago.”
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice gone for a moment. “I just—I meddle in the lives of my children. I’m a bit of a steamroller, and I…own that. But I could no more be parted from any of them than I could be parted from my own heart.”
I squeezed her hand a second and then eased out of her hold so I could pour Dallas some orange juice.
“So listen to the name Croy came up with for my business,” Cate told Dallas. “He’s so clever, I’m just amazed.”
“I was amazed from the start,” Dallas told her, sighing as he ate his omelet.
Nine
As Dallas and his sister cleaned the kitchen, though there wasn’t much to do since I’d loaded the dishwasher as I cooked, I called the number on the card that Locryn had texted me. So much had happened since he’d told me about the visit by the lawyer, but I finally had time to find out what that was about.
“Good afternoon,” the receptionist said, running through her script. “You’ve reached the law offices of Dupont and Burge; how may I direct your call?”
“I need to speak to Rendon Lowell, please.”
“If you would remain on the line, I’ll connect you to his office.”
The hold music was “Clair de Lune,” which I had learned to play on the piano when I was eight, and had hated ever since. Thankfully, I didn’t have to listen long, as Mr. Lowell’s assistant answered a few seconds later. She sounded nice, and as soon as I said my name, she put me right through to the man.
“Hello, is this Mr. Esca?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Well, Mr. Esca, it’s good to finally get a chance to speak to you. I’ve been trying to track you down for the last six months. You’re a difficult man to find.”
“And may I ask what this is about?”
“Of course. This concerns your brother, Whitlock.”
I would love to have said that there was a stab of concern, of worry, of anything resembling brotherly interest, but the fact of the matter was our paths didn’t cross, growing up. Our lives had been so scheduled, so regimented, so separate from one another, our parents only vaguely involved with those pursuits that supposedly instilled good breeding, that we were strangers to each other. We never played together; I couldn’t remember a friendly game of anything. I saw them at mealtimes, but there was no talking at the dinner table, as our nanny and the cook hovered close. All of that combined meant that when he said Whitlock’s name, I registered no emotion at all.
“Mr. Esca?”
“Yes, sorry. What about him?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t know if you were aware, but he’s running for Congress during the next election here in Connecticut, where the family now resides.”
“I was not aware,” I told him, and wondered vaguely when they had all settled there.
