Chapter 2
Friday night, Lily sat in front of her mirror, applied her makeup and brushed her hair. It had been three days since she’d last seen Gideon and her stomach was fluttery.
“You look pretty, Mommy.” Claire watched every brush of blush, stroke of hair and pat of powder. She mimicked Lily’s movements. “Can I have some?”
“Of course, sweetie.” Lily sat Claire in front of her and swept light blush on her smooth cheeks. “Ooh, look at you.”
“I’m a princess!” Claire pushed herself off Lily’s lap and twirled around the room. Lily wished Daniel could see her. He would have loved to watch his daughter grow up. Claire reminded her of Daniel more as she grew older. She had his smile, his sense of humor, his intelligence and his nose.
Willing her thoughts in a different direction, she thought about tonight. Samantha had invited her to go to the movies with her and Gideon. She’d been reluctant to infringe on their time together, but Samantha had insisted. It had been a long time since she’d seen a movie without a cartoon character, and she was giddy. Or maybe it was the idea of spending time with Gideon. He threw her off balance, like a sailboat that listed in the wind. What started out as enjoyable banter the other night quickly disintegrated into contentiousness, and Lily’s face heated at the memory. Yet, when she remembered how his hair fell over his forehead, the spicy scent of his aftershave, the deep gentleness of his voice and his rapport with Claire, her blush deepened. This is ridiculous. He paid more attention to Claire than to me. It’s a night at the movies with Sam. She applied a deep pink lipstick, pressed her lips together and answered the door for the babysitter.
“Hi, Tara. Come on in.” She opened the door wide for the teenager in front of her. “Claire, Tara is here!”
“Please don’t go out Mommy. I want you.” Claire rushed over and hugged her so hard Lily could barely breathe.
She gently pried her away. Claire’s pajamas were cottony beneath her fingers, which belied the vice-like grip she held around her waist. “Honey, I love you, but I’m just going out for a little while. You’re going to bed in a few minutes and won’t even know I’m gone.”
“Yes, I will,” Claire pouted. “What if I have a bad dream?”
“That’s why Tara’s here.” Lily threw the babysitter an apologetic glance as her daughter flounced into her bedroom, her footsteps pounding out her disappointment. She felt a pang of guilt. Claire wanted to spend time with her, something she hadn’t been able to do lately. With a sigh, Lily paused in Claire’s doorway and rested her cheek on the cool, hard wood. “How about we do something special this weekend, just the two of us?”
Claire grinned, all traces of her disappointment magically erased. She hugged Lily, but not as hard as before. “Will you come in to check on me when you get home?”
Lily ruffled her curls and kissed the top of her head as she took one last sniff of her daughter’s fruity shampoo. “Absolutely.”
“Promise?”
“I promise, Claire.”
“Hey, Claire, I brought the nail polish I told you about the other night,” Tara interrupted. “Do you remember?”
“Oh yeah. Mommy, can I wear it?” Her voice was high and breathy.
Lily nodded. “But just remember you have to listen to Tara, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy.”
“Tara, she has to be in bed by eight. And I should be home by ten or so, if that’s okay.”
“Sure, Ms. Livingston, no problem.”
“Mommy, are you going out with Samantha tonight?”
“Yes, honey, we’re going to a movie.”
“Will Gideon be there?”
Lily blinked. “Um, yeah, he will be,” she answered, surprised Claire asked. She hadn’t realized he’d made such a big impression on her.
Claire’s grin was blinding. “Tell him I say hi, okay? He’s really nice.”
“I will. Now, have fun with Tara and I’ll kiss you goodnight when I get home.” Lily blew her a kiss as she waved goodbye and walked over to Samantha’s apartment. She took a deep breath to relieve her tension and knocked on the door.
“Hi, Lil, come on in. I’m almost ready.” Samantha held the door open and Lily entered. Samantha finished packing her purse and grabbed her coat. “Gideon’s meeting us at the Landmark. Let’s go.”
At the theater, Lily’s senses went into overload as the buttery aroma of popcorn, the squealing teenagers and the bumping crowds overwhelmed her. She and Sam searched the crowd for Gideon and found him near the ticket booth, talking on his cell phone.
When he saw them, he waved, finished his conversation, and hung up. “Sorry about that. Hi, Sam. Hello, Lily.”
“Hey.” Samantha leaned to kiss him. Lily waved.
“I bought the tickets.” He handed them to Samantha.
“Thanks,” Lily said and took the one Samantha offered. She addressed Gideon. “How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it now. You can get my coffee later and we’ll figure it out then.”
“Okay. Oh, before I forget, Claire says hi.”
“Tell her hi back. She’s sweet, you know? And funny, too.” As Gideon described Claire, his face lit up, and the hard lines around his mouth softened.
“Yeah, I do. She takes after her dad. It’s all I can do sometimes to keep from laughing at the things she says.” Did Gideon have a sense of humor? And if so, what was it like?
He headed toward the theater, and she and Sam followed behind. Gideon and his chair acted like Moses parting the water for the Hebrews as they escaped Egypt. The crowds parted conspicuously for them and they made their way unencumbered into the theater.
Inside, they chose a row toward the middle that could accommodate wheelchairs. Samantha squeezed in first and suggested Lily sit between them. Gideon shot his sister a stern glare and wheeled his chair next to the row. He clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead.
Lily didn’t want a replay of the other night. Instead, she chatted with Samantha quietly.
A few minutes, and several deep breaths later, Gideon leaned toward her. “Samantha tells me you’re in PR?”
Lily tried not to lose herself in his hazel eyes. In the dim lights, framed by wire rims, they were coffee colored—deep and rich. “Yes, I work with tech clients. An annoying one in particular right now.” She ignored the twinge of guilt from speaking ill of a client in public.
“Annoying, how?” he asked as he leaned toward her.
She explained the current mess at work, taking care not to give too much away. He nodded with a smile as she described the impossible situation. “Apparently, we’re supposed to be magicians,” she said, conscious of his deep-throated sound that made her insides tremble. She continued, her speech slightly higher than normal. “Abracadabra, zippity zoo, we say the software’s secure, so it must be true! I think we’ve finally convinced them, though, and hopefully everything will work out by Monday.” Her chest started to tighten from the stress of thinking about her client. With a concerted effort, she changed the subject. “Sam told me you’re in pharmaceuticals?”
“Yeah, I’m a marketing executive with a pharmaceutical company. That was one of my associates on the phone back there. I don’t often take my work home with me, but we have a new drug we’re introducing next month, and there are still some details to work out.” He shifted slightly. “Samantha said you’d recently moved here from Philly?”
“I grew up in this area, but I moved back here from Philadelphia.” As the theater darkened, the previews began. Lily made quiet comments about them, which made Gideon chuckle. The sound reverberated low in her belly and she shifted in her chair.
After the movie, they crossed the busy street to a nondescript coffee shop. It smelled of grounds, grease and garlic, but somehow, the combination was not unpleasant. Muted sounds of patrons’ conversations provided background noise and they found a table toward the back as they flagged down a waitress and motioned for coffee.
They talked about the movie, and Samantha reminisced about events and stories from their childhood. Gideon drummed his fingers on the cool Formica table as Samantha’s stories dragged on. He glared at her, but it had less effect than Lily’s laughter, which seemed to encourage her. He cleared his throat, but Samantha offered him a glass of water and continued.
“Do you remember the time we were in the tree house and you saw Sarah across the street?” Samantha reminisced.
“No, I don’t,” Gideon interrupted. His look should have silenced her, would have done so with most people, but had no effect at all on Samantha. Undeterred, she continued.
“Yes, you must. Sarah was your current crush and—”
“Samantha!” he said. Her eyes widened at his murderous tone. With an apologetic glance, she tipped her head and changed the topic of conversation.
Lily tried to figure out the siblings. Gideon resembled a huge block of granite, and she’d bet he felt as hard and unyielding under her fingertips. In contrast, Samantha was a butterfly, as she waved her arms with animation and her light, flowery perfume gently wafted through the air. Her face became fluid as it changed expression and the table moved under Lily’s arms as Samantha jostled it.
She didn’t understand why Samantha’s stories annoyed Gideon. Maybe it was his personality. He grumbled a lot, she’d noticed, and he certainly didn’t hesitate to grumble at her. Unless children were around. She’d seen a totally different side of him with Claire—gentle, funny, understanding. Obviously he liked Claire better than he did her, even if he thawed out some during the movie. I am not jealous of a six-year-old. Besides, he seemed to like Claire better than Samantha at this moment too. She glanced around with a slight shake of her head. He was an enigma. Her mind raced, trying to figure him out.
After about an hour, they decided to go home. Outside on the sidewalk, Samantha grabbed Gideon’s chair. He spun around and glared at her, but with a quick glance at Lily, remained mute. She gazed across the street as cars whizzed by, her hands in the pockets of her coat, and pretended not to notice. Brother and sister definitely had issues, and she preferred not to be involved. A moment later, the storm passed.
“Good night, Sam, Lily.”
“Good night, Gideon,” Samantha said. “See you around.” He headed home, and Samantha and Lily caught a cab to their own building.
“Sorry, Lil,” Samantha said.
“About what?” she asked.
“Gideon and I were having a silent argument. It was rude of us and I’m sorry.” She smirked and turned away as if to hide it.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad it had nothing to do with me.” Her voice trailed off and her stomach fluttered. He was intriguing and attractive, but complicated. The last thing she wanted was complications.
****
Gideon had just entered his apartment when his phone rang. He rolled into his apartment’s second bedroom and booted the computer. He used it as a home office and home gym; it held the sport chair he used for basketball, free weights and his computer. Like the rest of the apartment, the room had cream walls, beige-carpeted floors and large windows. Family photographs personalized the place, which prevented it from appearing cold and inhospitable.
“So, what did you think?” Sam asked.
“We already discussed the movie.” He sighed as he waited for her to continue what was bound to be an annoying conversation.
“I wasn’t talking about the movie, Gideon, and you know it.” Her voice reminded him of their childhood, when she’d accuse him of bothering her on purpose. She’d been right then, and she was right now, but he wasn’t in the mood. He clenched and unclenched his jaw.
“No, what I know is you’re going to butt your nose into my business.” He scanned through his emails as he made an effort to reign in his temper. Shaking his head, he tried to mentally ward off the headache he could feel coming. She’d taken it upon herself to be his personal matchmaker, despite all of his protests, and he’d had enough. It was time she allowed him to sort out his own life.
“I don’t butt in, Gideon, I facilitate.”
“Oh, is that what you call it?” He ground his teeth. “And just what are you facilitating?”
“The resumption of your life. Now tell me what you thought of Lily.”
His body heated at the sound of her name and he paused to clear his throat. “My life does not need to be resumed.” He deleted junk mail with a hard tap on the keyboard, much harder than he’d intended. If only he could delete his sister’s current train of thought as easily. She’d never been one to surrender easily. She was stubborn. Just like him. “It flows along quite nicely without your help.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Her tone was sharp, as if she had any right to be annoyed.
Gideon held his breath. She was just about to cross the line…
“What did you think of her?” she persisted.
…and there she went. “Don’t do this, Sam,” he warned as he rolled back and forth from one end of the room to the other. He smacked the wheel rims, each slap an echo of his frustration. “It’s bad enough you felt it necessary to tell her all about our childhood, as if she’d care. Don’t do this too.”
“Don’t do what?” she asked.
He hated when she played dumb. It was a device she used when she was trying to get her way. He hadn’t liked it when they were kids; he liked it even less now. “Don’t try to fix me. I’m not broken.”
“I never said you were, brother dear. I just thought you might enjoy getting to know my friends.”
“You mean one friend in particular.”
“Well, actually two. She has a daughter, you know.”
Gideon removed his glasses and scrubbed a hand over his face. That’s what made this tough, and Samantha knew it. “Yes, I know.”
“So, what do you think of her?”
“I think Claire is adorable.”
“And her mother?”
Lily. His stomach knotted thinking about her. She was fascinating. Strong with an air of fragility. Confident with a hint of vulnerability. At another time he would have been interested. His voice lost some of its forcefulness. “Her mother is… amusing. There, are you satisfied?”
“Very. Now how about coming over Sunday for brunch?”
“Will it get you to lay off of me?” he growled. Anything to get her off the topic of his love life. He sagged back in his chair. No matter how much she begged, he wasn’t giving in.
“It’s free food, Gideon, what’s the harm?”