Chapter Fifteen

Lucas

Carrying a couple of bottles of excellent wine—one white and one red—I go to Elliot’s home for dinner later on Monday. It’s better than eating alone. Blake is out of town, probably trying to figure out which new ventures look the most promising.

But there’s more to my visit than just not wanting to eat alone. I’m curious about Elliot’s wife—what she’s like—plus how marriage is treating my brother. He didn’t marry for love, but the few glimpses I had of them at Blake’s place made me suspect they have feelings for each other. Whether they’ve admitted as much to themselves is another matter.

I’d like some evidence that a union entered into with cold-blooded calculation can lead to something other than a lifeless…life. I need at least that much reassurance to marry Faye.

In fact, I have to convince myself of it. And then do what I need to do if I don’t want to be the pathetic kid I used to be.

Earlier today Ken Asada came back with the report I requested—social security number, photos, credit check, criminal record and everything else he could dig up on Jon Barkley, Ava’s date from the function. The results were incredibly disappointing. The guy is too damn nice. A good, stable job. Normal family. No criminal convictions or arrests. Decent-looking, too, I have to admit. Certainly no scars. He’s exactly the kind of guy I wouldn’t mind seeing my own sister hook up with.

At first I assumed I was let down because I wanted Ava to date jerks so she would realize how good she’d had it with me. But later I realized it was much simpler and dumber. I was harboring a secret wish—that I’d have a reason to swoop in, save the day, and she’d fall into my arms again.

Such a clichéd setup…it sounds like something from a third-rate romantic comedy. Shit like that doesn’t happen in real life, and I should know better.

It’s time to get my head screwed on straight and think about what I’m doing.

Elliot’s penthouse is still the same—a bachelor pad. The pricey electronics, leather couches and minimalistic interior decoration are just the way I remembered. But the mantel and shelves now have framed photos of him and his wife Belle. Not many—they haven’t been together that long—but certainly more than what I have of Ava. The selfies we took while we were at the bed and breakfast are on her phone. She never had a chance to send them to me.

Not that I would’ve kept them.

Elliot pads over, his bare feet quiet on the floor, and takes my wine. “Finally. Belle thought you might have decided not to join us.” His hair is damp, his cheeks slightly flushed. I’d put money on his having used the pool on the upper deck recently. If he could be reborn as anything, it might be a dolphin. He’s put on a white T-shirt and loose, long pants instead of his usual shorts. He shouldn’t have bothered. Just because I choose to wear slacks in the summer doesn’t mean everyone has to.

“Bad traffic, and I’m not that familiar with the roads here.”

“No GPS?”

“It’s only marginally useful. Doesn’t account for the horrible drivers on the road.”

Belle comes out from the kitchen with a platter of Chinese food and places it on the dining table. She’s dressed in a wintry gray dress with an uneven hemline that flatters her curvy body. A string of pearls circle her elegant neck, and more pearls drip from her ears. Like Elliot, she’s barefoot, and I spot a pair of white suede pumps in a small nook between the couch and dining room.

“I hope you don’t mind takeout. But we did put it on real china.” She comes over and gives me a quick hug.

I squeeze her back then let go. “Elliot promised me a home-cooked meal.”

He jabs me in the ribs. “I promised no such thing.”

Belle laughs. “It’s really my fault. I came home late from work.”

“What do you do?” I’m ninety-nine percent certain she isn’t still working at the strip joint where she met my brother.

“OWM. I’m an assistant to one of the fund managers.” My shock must be obvious because she chortles. “What did you think I was doing these days?”

“Uh…shopping?” Oh, good. That’s real smooth. “I had no idea. Sorry.”

She shrugs with a small smile. “I did come with a colorful history, so I can’t really fault you. Tell you what. Let’s toss our assumptions and actually get to know each other.”

Elliot wraps his arm around her. “Told you she was awesome.”

I smile. “Lucky bastard.”

You could’ve had that…if Ava hadn’t found out.

I stop the thought before it can grow into something malignant. I could’ve never had what they have. Ava never loved me the way Belle clearly loves Elliot. I know my twin. He isn’t the easiest man to live with—and has had his share of scandals, several of them having come out since their marriage. She loves him enough to overlook them all. Ava can’t tolerate any flaws on my part, and I’ll never be perfect enough for her.

Shoving the ugly thoughts aside, I follow my brother and his wife to the table. I don’t want to feel sorry for myself or resent the happiness they have. They’ve earned it. From what I was able to piece together from Blake, she almost died from getting tangled up with Elliot.

“Where’s your sister?” I ask once we’re seated.

“Nonny’s out. She apparently couldn’t cancel her evening out with her friends.” Belle frowns.

I shrug. “Let her have her fun. We can see each other later.”

Belle passes around egg rolls, while Elliot wrestles with the Merlot I brought and serves us. I note he doesn’t offer his wife a glass, and the thought comes again: a recovering alcoholic?

“Sweet and sour sauce?” Belle offers.

I nod my thanks, drizzle some over my egg rolls and bite into one. It’s crisp and perfectly cooked. “Anybody else coming? Ryder?” Ryder and Elliot are tight.

“He’s in the Maldives with Paige at the moment.”

“The Maldives? Isn’t she a little too pregnant for that kind of trip?”

“You would think, but he’s determined to keep her away from the pressure-cooker media. It’s been rough on her.”

I shake my head. “He should’ve thought that before knocking her up.”

“They’re married, so it’s all good. Besides, there’s never a perfect time for kids.”

“Poor Paige.” Belle shakes her head. “I wonder if she knew how it was going to be. People seem to think I’m interesting because of my marriage. I can’t imagine what it must be like for her.”

“Thankfully Paige is smart, and she’s seen media circuses while working for Ryder,” Elliot says.

“There is a difference between seeing and actually experiencing it yourself.” I serve myself some spicy beef and Chinese meatballs. “So. When are you guys going to start a family?”

“Not until I finish college and maybe get settled in my career.”

I regard her. “You haven’t finished?”

She flushes. “Not yet. I had to take time off, but I’m ready to go back.”

“Good for you,” I say even as I give Elliot a “what the hell” look.

My brother stares back at me blankly. Ugh. Women do not enjoy working. He should’ve made it clear she could stay home and spend her time pampering herself. It’s ridiculous for her to go back to school or get a job…much less a career.

“What field are you thinking of?” I ask, just to be polite.

“Something in financial services, maybe. I want to help people plan for big events in life—buying homes, having kids, college, retirement and so on.”

Elliot toys with her unbound hair. “I’m sure you’re going to be amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

He gazes into her eyes with a naked adoration that seems more intimate than sex. I look away and drain my wine.

After we finish our meal, Belle gets a call she has to take from her boss, so Elliot and I go to the balcony. The November evening breeze is refreshingly cool as it brushes over us, and the traffic below our feet flows like glowing rivers of diamonds and rubies.

“Did you really mean what you said at Blake’s place?” Elliot asks.

“About what?”

“Marriage.” His brows pull into a deep V. “You and Ava…”

“It’s over. I’m marrying Faye.”

“Faye? Faye Belbin?”

I nod. “Haven’t told her yet, but she’s the best candidate.”

“Huh. From the way you reacted when all that crap came out about Annabelle Underhill, I thought you cared about Ava.”

“Yeah, well… It wasn’t mutual.”

“Ah, jeez. Sorry to hear that.”

I shrug with false nonchalance. “It’s better this way. No false expectations. I would’ve wanted everything.”

“Well, it’s too bad you have to settle like this. I wish you could’ve found and kept the right woman.”

“Didn’t you specifically choose her”—I glance inside—“for shits and giggles?”

He nods. “It started out as something to humiliate Dad, but now it’s more.”

“I can see that.”

“If you’re going to choose Faye, you guys should date a little first.”

“Date? What for?”

“We’ve been trying to convince the world the article about the deal is fake. I think Ryder did a pretty good job—besides, the shallow types can’t believe he would marry a girl like Paige for anything other than love—and I did okay, too. If you marry Faye too abruptly, it’ll look like the article had some truth to it.”

I sigh. The last thing I want to do is waste my time “dating.” Faye already knows what the deal is, and she isn’t the type who wants flowers and sweet words.

“A couple of weeks should do it. You two do have history together, after all.”

Elliot’s advice is sensible, so I nod. I don’t want to cause problems, even for Elizabeth. Being pretty and in the spotlight equates to stalkers galore, and as annoying as she is, I don’t want her to have issues with a bunch of creeps.

“Here’s something I want you to consider, though,” Elliot says. “If you have a chance to undo the damage and get Ava back the way you want…then take it. Even if it means no portraits.”

I stare at my twin. “The whole point of this is to get the portraits.”

“Is it? You were with Ava for a painting?”

I look away. Grandpa’s legacy was never a factor.

“Dad’s making us dance to his tune because he can. That doesn’t mean we should give up a chance for lifelong happiness for this bullshit. We don’t even know what crap he’s going to come up with to renege.”

“You really think he’d do that?”

Elliot laughs. “In a heartbeat. Would you put it past him?”

I shake my head. Dad would love to find a loophole to deny us just out of spite. “For all we know, he might’ve built something sneaky into the deal when he offered it in the first place.”

“I know. That’s why the least we can do is be happy. He hates that more than anything.”

I regard my brother. “When did you figure all this out?”

“When I thought I was going to lose my wife. It’s amazing how pure terror can cut through all the bullshit you’ve been telling yourself.”

I take a longer look toward the penthouse. “Belle must be one of a kind to make you fall so hard.”

“I was damn lucky. But there’s one for you, too.”

I smile. Let Elliot believe that.