2 Weeks Earlier
Drew Sugar sighed as he guided his Mercedes SL into the drive. He tugged down the visor and caught the remote control before it could land in his lap. For a second, the mirror behind the visor reflected his dark eyes and black hair back to him.
God, he looked tired. There were smudges under his eyes. And had those lines in the corner of his eyes always been that deep? He needed a haircut too; no wonder the chairman had given him a double-take this morning when he’d arrived at the office. The man would never say anything, but his cocked eyebrow had spoken volumes.
The garage door didn’t open, despite how hard Drew jabbed his thumb on the remote. When in the hell was he going to remember to get a new battery? His car door creaked faintly when he opened it; something else he had to make a mental note of. Possibly a little WD40 would work it out, or else he’d have to ask them to take care of it the next time he had the car serviced.
Trying to stamp out the litany of tasks that filled his thoughts throughout the day, Drew slid from his car. He tugged out his briefcase behind him, paused to disentangle it from the seatbelt, and slammed the door shut.
Whether it had been the crash of his car door or just coincidence, when he turned it was to face Kelly, who stood a few feet away. His and the next-door neighbor’s house had only the low wall to demarcate the lines of the properties. Well, it used to be a wall — now it was a particularly enthusiastic swathe of the aforementioned creeper. Juliet had always kept their side of the vine trimmed.
There’d been roses too when his wife had been alive. She’d spent a lot of time working on their garden.
It had been on his to-do list for almost a year now; tidy up the garden. Replant the dead roses. Buy a book on how to look after roses. Failing that, hire a damn gardener to do it for him.
“Afternoon,” he called out.
Kelly let the trash can’s lid fall closed. She took in his suit and briefcase with a crooked smile. “Isn’t there a law against working on a Saturday?”
“If there isn’t, there should be.”
Her smile widened. “Have you heard of saying no? It can be pretty effective.”
Drew’s mouth pulled to the side. “Not if you’re gunning for a promotion. Then it’s all about ‘yes.’”
Kelly’s blond hair caught fire in the sunlight as she stepped from beneath a bough of his overzealous maple tree. Luckily, she’d never complained to him about the tree. He’d had to trim it almost every year when that old geezer Fitzpatrick had lived next door.
It was one of many reasons he liked Kelly; she didn’t add to his to-do list.
The woman gave him a half-embarrassed smile.
“Anyway.” He hoisted his briefcase up. “I best get inside. My daughter’ll be arriving soon.”
“Your daughter?”
Drew paused in the act of turning away. “Oh, right. You wouldn’t have met her yet. She’s been away at university.”
Kelly crossed her arms over her chest and stepped closer. She wore pale jeans, white sneakers, and a hoodie that would possibly spell ‘fabulous’ across her breasts if she zipped it up all the way. Her blond, shoulder-length hair had been strung into a messy ponytail, with a few strips of hair fringing her face.
“You don’t look old enough to have a girl in uni,” Kelly said, her mouth twitching as if she was trying to force herself not to smile. “Is she adopted?”
Drew ducked his head a little. “And here I was, thinking I’m looking more like my old man every day.”
Kelly laughed and ran a hand through her hair. “I know that feeling. Takes more and more courage to look in the mirror these days.”
“Come on,” He shifted his briefcase to his other hand. “You don’t look a day over thirty-five.”
She burst out laughing. “That’s an outright lie.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks reddening.
Standing with one hand over her stomach, the other suppressing another laugh, he found himself inexplicably attracted to Kelly. It wasn’t the first time either; he’d never seen her sad, or angry, or even irritated. She always greeted him with a broad smile and a friendly wave. From what he’d been able to puzzle out about her, she lived alone. It was a big house, and the area was one of the better ones in the city, so perhaps she’d divorced some rich guy and was living off his alimony.
Or, perhaps, she was widowed like him.
“You have any kids?” he asked.
“What?” Her eyes widened. They were dark green, oval-shaped, and free of makeup. “Oh, no. Not my scene.” She shifted, crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you just have the one? Penny?”
“Juliet wanted lots of…” Drew tightened his grip on his briefcase’s handle. “We’d tried for more kids after Penny, but Juliet couldn’t… we lost a few. Doctors told us it would be safer if we just stopped trying. Safer for Juliet, you know?”
Kelly’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine—”
“It’s fine. We were… fine with it. We had Penny and, trust me; she’s pretty exhausting. I don’t know how we would have managed more, to be honest.”
The woman looked away, and then squinted back at him, lifting a hand to shade her eyes. “What happened with Juliet? If you don’t mind my asking?” She shook her head. “It’s just, the real estate agent mentioned something—”
His lips twitched. “That nosy—” Drew cut off the sentence with a cough. “Carol’s been trying to get me to sell ever since the funeral.”
She shifted but didn’t press him. She didn’t have to; it was in the past. All the emotions – the anger, the hurt – it had all subsided.
“Car accident. She went out to get groceries. It was raining. They say she hit a puddle of water — hydroplaned — lost control.”
Kelly brought a hand to her mouth but didn’t say anything.
He cleared his throat. “I guess after a year, Carol’s sick of waiting for me to decide to move so she can make some more commission from me.”
“I don’t see why you have to. If you can afford the mortgage…”
Drew shrugged at her. “It does feel a bit empty sometimes.” He sighed and turned to the house. “One of the reasons I’m looking forward to seeing my girl.”
He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Anyway, I’d better get inside. Nice seeing you again.”
As he was turning away from her, Kelly caught at the sleeve of his suit. “Hey, so…”
Her touch sent a thrill through his arm that made goosebumps break out.
She licked her lips when he faced her. “I… I’m having a few people over, Wednesday. For my birthday. If you want, you can pop in?”
“Yeah, sure. What time?”
“Eightish?” She shrugged. “It’s nothing big. I’m just putting down some snacks and beer and stuff.”
“Sounds good.”
Kelly grinned up at him and gave him an awkward thumbs-up. “Cool. Okay. Then I’ll see you Wednesday.” She waved a hand up and down the drive. “Or, probably before then. You know, ‘cos we keep running into each other out here.”
“Sure. Looking forward—”
A screech of tires made them both spin away from each other. His eyes flashed wide as his daughter’s VW Golf came to a halt a few feet from where he stood. With the car’s tinted windows and the sun glaring from the windshield, he couldn’t even see if Penny had the decency to look apologetic at almost mowing him over.
“Jesus,” he muttered, ripping his hand away from his heart.
He suppressed a surge of irritation and barked, “Penny!” before he could stop himself. He gave Kelly a quick glance.
His neighbor pursed her mouth as if she fought valiantly against another smile. “Kids, huh? Never saw the point,” she murmured to him.
He laughed and gave his head a shake.
Beside him, the VW Golf’s door opened. It didn’t creak — he always made sure Penny’s car was in immaculate condition. Not only did it get regular services, but he also made sure she had run-flat tires, tinted windows, and redundant anti-theft systems installed.
“God, that was a long drive.”
Drew’s face solidified. Kelly, still watching him with a stunned smile, blinked a few times at him before turning to the new arrival.
A blue-eyed girl slid her arm over the top of the car and shoved her sunglasses up into her dark hair. Then she bit the inside of her lip, glancing at him and Kelly.
“Am I interrupting?”
He stepped forward. “What are you doing with my—”
The girl closed the car door, putting her in full view of him and Kelly. This wouldn’t have been a bad thing if she’d been wearing more than a pair of cutoff jeans and a tank top that hugged her perky breasts like a jealous lover with too many whiskeys in him. The only thing decently clad were her feet; strangely, the thick, military-style boots didn’t look as incongruous with the rest of the outfit.
“This is… your daughter?” came Kelly’s quiet voice from beside him.
“What?” He half-turned to Kelly, but she was already retreating to her house.
“Uh, I have to go.” She pointed vaguely behind her. “Pie and all that.”
“Kelly, wait. This isn’t—”
The slam of his neighbor’s front door cut him off.
“Hey, Mr. Sugar,” the girl said in husky voice.
He twisted back to her with a grimace. “What are you doing with Penny’s car? Where’s my daughter? And who the hell are you?”
The girl slung a rucksack over her shoulder and stuck out her hand. “It’s me. Angel.”
He stared at her blue, manicured fingernails and gingerly took her hand. It was cool, soft, and gave him a surprisingly firm squeeze before he could pull away.
“Penny said she’d tell you I was coming.” Angel gave him a concerned look. “She did tell you, right?”
“No.” He fumbled in the breast pocket of his charcoal suit. “The last call I got from her was…” When he looked down at his cellphone, the rest of his sentence trailed away. “Shit.”
Seven missed calls from Penny.
Why hadn’t he heard his phone ring?
He looked up at Angel. “Is Penny okay? Why isn’t she here?” He tapped on Penny’s contact and put his phone to his ear as he waited for it to connect. “Did something happen to her?”
Angel shrugged and then leaned past him to look at the house. “She’s at a villa or something with this guy.”
“What guy? A villa? Where? What’s his name?”
The girl finally looked back at him. “Barry?” She pointed at him with a definitive nod. “Fred. No… Frank. Pretty sure it was Frank.” Then her gaze flew back to his split-level slate-roofed house. “Place is just as gorgeous as I remember. Is it locked?”
“Yes.” Then, to the phone, “Pick up, Penny.”
“Keys?”
He shook his head at Angel, frowning.
The girl crossed her legs and bit her lip. “I really gotta pee, Mr. Sugar.”
Letting out a low growl, Drew lifted his briefcase and suspended it on his palm. With his phone squeezed between his shoulder and ear, he flipped open the briefcase and took out the house keys. Angel snatched them from him as Penny’s phone went to voicemail.
“Penny, it’s Dad.”
“Bathroom…?” Angel mouthed at him, walking backwards and pointing at the house with a thumb.
He covered the mouthpiece with a hand. “Second door on the left.”
“Oh, yeah.”
He frowned after the girl, and then took his phone away from the phone’s microphone. “You’d better call me as soon as you get this. I have a—” what the hell was the girl’s name? “—your friend here. Says you’re at a villa?” Then, “Call me.”
Drew stood for a moment beside Penny’s car.
Was she safe? Warm? Happy? And what about this Fred guy? Was he a decent boy, or was he just trying to get laid?
Drew sighed and ran a hand over his face.
He didn’t need this shit. He’d wanted to see his daughter today. She made him feel like a good person, like everything he’d ever done to get this point had been worth it. Justifiable. Necessary, even.
The longer she was away, the more he unraveled. The more he thought on the past; the bitter things, the ugly things… the unholy things.
Smoothing a frown from his face, he cast a quick glance at Kelly’s closed front door and strode inside his house. He slammed the front door closed behind him; the girl had left it gaping open as if closing it was someone else’s job.
It took a quick scan to establish that she wasn’t in the bathroom. Or living room. Or the kitchen. When he flung open the frosted glass door of his office, he found it untouched. He set his briefcase on the immaculate inlaid mahogany desk and followed the smell of Angel’s candy-sweet perfume up the stairs. Halfway across the landing, he stopped walking. His shoes sank into the cream carpet.
There were three guest bedrooms on this floor, rooms Juliet had been convinced she would fill. She’d been smitten with their daughter since the day Penelope arrived. Smitten, and then obsessed. Even more so, when Penny turned out to be the only child they’d ever have; something Juliet never seemed to forgive herself for. It was as if she blamed herself for each of the miscarriages she’d suffered through.
Perhaps, on some karmic level, it had been her fault.
Of all the rooms, only his bedroom door stood ajar. Why had the stranger had chosen his room?
He pushed open the door, jaw set hard.
Angel lay on her stomach on his bed, facing the headboard. She typed industriously on her cellphone, bare feet up and idly twining around each other.
Her boots lay on the floor beside her rucksack.
“I think her phone’s off.” Angel retrieved a smoldering cigarette from the ashtray on his nightstand. “That blond dude’s probably busy oiling her up next to his pool.” She cocked her head. “Was it Bernard? Billy? Why do I think his name started with a ‘B’?” She peeked at him over her shoulder. “You don’t mind if I smoke in here, do you? Penny made me swear not to smoke in her car, and it’s been like hours since I’ve had one.”
After Juliet’s death, there’d been no reason for him to smoke in a different room. And, perhaps he’d enjoyed the ghostly scolding his dead wife had given him every time he’d lit a cigarette in bed. But seeing Angel smoking as casually as if this was her room, stoked something infernal, primal, inside him.
“Get the hell out of my house.”
Angel turned wide eyes on him as she pushed herself up. She took a long pull at her cigarette — narrowing her eyes as the smoke curled up over her face — and blew out a thin plume of smoke.
“Something wrong?”
“Y-you—” his tongue tangled, so instead he took a lurching step forward and stabbed toward her with his finger. Goddammit, he hated stammering.
Angel watched him with a frown. “I…?”
“Who the hell are you?”
She crossed her legs, absently rubbing the sole of her foot. “Penny seriously didn’t tell you I was coming?”
“She…” He dragged a hand through his hair. He was too tired for this shit. “She might have mentioned something about… about bringing… about a friend.”
He yanked his tie loose and twisted open his top button; the air in this room stifled him, silk shirt or no.
“Well, that’s me.” Angel grinned wide and tossed her head, sending a wave of hair over her shoulder. “Guilty as charged.” She ran brilliant blue eyes over him. “No surprise she forgot to tell you. Penny’s mind is like candy-floss after exams.”
Angel stood.
The smell of her smoke was making him crave a cigarette more than he had all day. But his box of menthols was in his briefcase downstairs, and the last thing he wanted was to leave Angel alone in his room.
“You can’t stay here.”
“Why not?” Angel took another drag — slower this time, as if she knew exactly how much it bugged him — and blew an expressive stream of smoke his way. “Penny said it would be fine. And you have enough room, don’t you, Mr. Sugar? I promise I won’t get in your way.”
He pressed his lips closed.
She paused, cocked an eyebrow at him, and then laughed. “What’s wrong? You look spooked.”
“There’s a stranger in my house.”
She washed a hand down herself, making a small charm in the shape of a swallow tinkle against her bracelet. “I promise you won’t wake up minus your kidneys or nothing.”
“Why did you still come?”
Angel sighed, her shoulders drooping. “You’re not the only one who got the short end of the stick. I was expecting to be knee-deep in takeout and at least three episodes into the first season of ‘Friends’ already.” Angel shrugged and bit the inside of her lower lip. “She said she’d be back on Monday. Would it be okay if I stayed until—?”
“You can’t stay here.”
“Yeah, okay. I get it.” She hesitated before going to extinguish her cigarette in the ashtray. Holding onto the edge of the nightstand, she lifted a foot and tugged her boot back on it. “I’m sorry about this, Mr. Sugar. I mean, I really thought Penny would’ve—”
He cut her off with a sigh. “I meant here. You can’t stay in this room.”
What was the harm right? He’d be working from home the whole Sunday, anyway. The house was big enough that they wouldn’t have to keep bumping into each other. And, maybe, it would make the place echo just a little less.
The girl paused and peered at him over her shoulder. “I can stay?” Her eyes brightened as a wide smile tugged at her lips.
He pointed with his chin. “There’s a spare room across the hall. Or you take the one next to it. But not here. Not this one.” He swallowed hard. “This one’s mine.”
“Yes, sir.” Angel gave him a mock salute.
Then she picked up her rucksack, yanked on her other shoe, and left the room. Her shoulder brushed against him. She let out a small giggle, glanced at him over her shoulder and opened the door on the opposite end of the hall. She stood for a moment on the threshold, staring inside with wide eyes, and then half-twisted to face him.
“Thank you, Mr. Sugar.” Her smile was wide and genuine. “You won’t regret this. I promise.”
When Angel was out of sight, he strode across his room, lifted what remained of her cigarette and drew deeply from it. It had been instinctual, almost as if the nicotine in his system had momentarily taken control of his limbs and moved him autonomously across the carpet.
There was lip gloss on the filter.
Pink. Vanilla flavored.
No, he wouldn’t regret it. But she just might.