CHAPTER TEN
Amelia
One of the best perks of working a limited, temporary, and part-time position was that it afforded me a lot of time to snoop.
And if I was purposely brought back home so that I could snoop, all the better.
Now, my mother would argue that I wasn’t back in Boston to play at being a private investigator, but she had mentioned that my brother had been harder and harder to deal with lately and was causing Pop a ton of stress. In my mind, her worry had given me a free pass to snoop to my heart’s content if it meant I was helping both Pop’s business and his health.
I had a date with Declan later that night, so I came in to do some more paperwork while my father was in the office.
Despite assuring me that he was eating better and sleeping more, the dark circles under his eyes told a different story. He was tired. He was scared. And he was doing everything he could to keep the fact that he was from Mom and me.
But Pop couldn’t fool me, and I was sure he wasn’t fooling Mom either.
“Where’s JJ today?”
I knew where the little rat was, to be honest, but I was curious what he told our father about his whereabouts.
Pop frowned and rubbed his mustache while he thought.
“I think he said he was interviewing a few guys to put on a work crew over on Ketchum?”
Ketchum was a small project Pop had won that involved pouring concrete and refurbishing a small shopping district’s medians and curbs. It wasn’t exactly enough to pay for an expensive cancer surgery, but it was something.
I also knew that they didn’t necessarily need new people on a crew. Since I’d done the books, I knew for a fact that they had plenty of day help to work these crews — men who had been part of the team for a few years now.
“How do you like the new job at The Capstone? Everyone nice?”
It was adorable how Pop cared more about whether or not the people at work were being nice to me than whether or not I liked the job. It’d been the same since the first day of kindergarten too. Not many questions about what I was learning so much as who I played with and if all the kids were nice to me.
I gave him what I hoped was a confident smile. “They’re fine. They didn’t resent me too much for creating an ambitious lunch special yesterday. I think it’s off to a good start.”
Pop nodded, leafing through a stack of invitations to bid on projects in the area. “That’s nice.”
“Did you know it was owned by Finn Casey?”
He looked up from his papers and cocked his head to the side, his face screwed up in thought. “That right? I might have heard a thing or two about that. I hear he’s quite the catch these days from some of your mother’s friends. Have you seen him yet?”
You could say that. A smile played on my lips at the memory of how I got the job and who had really interviewed me.
“I have. He’s doing well for himself. I saw Declan too. We had dinner the other night.”
That stopped Pop in his tracks, and he looked up, his eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. “Yeah?” The surprise was plain on his face.
I laughed. “Why’s that so surprising?” It was really hard to rattle the old man. This was funny.
“Not surprising, not at all,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s just that he was always so much older than you. I always figured if you’d catch the eye of any of them, it would have been Finn or his twin brother. Hell, even the quiet one. What’s his name?”
“Matthew, Pop,” I said. Matthew was gorgeous. And he’d always known it too, although he’d never captured my attention like Declan had. All of the Casey brothers were gifted in the looks and talent department, but to me, Declan was like a god with the way he carried himself, even when he was a teenager.
He didn’t just walk into a room, he made an entrance without having to try too hard. People just sort of stopped what they were doing to watch what he did next. His younger brothers were wilder, more rambunctious, and you couldn’t ignore them if you wanted to. But Declan had never competed for attention with them because he didn’t have to.
With me, at least.
“Yeah, that kid. I heard he’s out in California now.”
I’d heard the same thing. He’d gotten into boxing and Mixed Martial Arts for a few years but found that getting hit less and making more money was a better fit for him, and he became a sports agent for fighters.
That was the rumor, anyway. Mom heard it from a couple of her friends who kept themselves on “Casey Watch” in case there was ever a chance of getting their unmarried daughters on the radar of a Casey man.
It’d annoyed the hell out of me each time Mom tried to update me with the goings on of that family when I called home. But now I was glad I’d paid attention now and then.
As that line of conversation died off, I thought about my brother again.
“You happen to know where he’s interviewing them at?” I asked.
Pop shook his head. “No clue. I don’t think he told me, but if he did, I wasn’t paying attention.”
It didn’t matter, really. I pulled up a website on my screen and logged in. I’d given myself administrative privileges over the office computers and the company phones. And I’d put an app on them that let me use the phone’s GPS to triangulate its location.
Technically, it was meant for trucking and delivery businesses to keep track of their fleet, but I found it awfully convenient to keep track of my brother the past two days.
And he was never where he said he was.
I quickly jotted down the street address of where his phone currently was and stood. “I’m going to run a couple things to the post office and take a quick lunch,” I said, moving to the door. “I’ll be back in about an hour. Want anything?”
Pop looked up from his desk and smiled. “I’m good. You don’t have to rush through lunch, sweetheart. You’re the boss’s kid. It comes with a few perks.”
I just smiled as I left and started off toward the Columbia Point neighborhood. JJ was currently somewhere on Leiner Street, and I planned to see what the hell he was doing.
It wasn’t a long walk, and I had a rough idea of what businesses were in the area when I found his location. There was a small corner grocery and convenience store, a coffee shop, and a small Italian food place that sold pizza by the slice out of a window late at night to drunks leaving the local bar scene. By day, it was a small indoor eating space with about six or seven tables. Decent food.
I had a feeling he’d be there with whoever he was dealing with.
My hunch was correct. As soon as I got close to the section of Leiner Street I was looking for, I saw JJ’s new truck, a sore spot between us when he had a hard time explaining how he could afford a quad cab diesel monstrosity like the one he’d come home with a few weeks ago.
I gritted my teeth. I had bigger ambitions in life than to be a thorn in my older brother’s side, but Pop was in trouble, and it seemed the worse it got with our father, the stranger JJ acted.
And I was nothing if not a Daddy’s girl through and through.
I slowly walked by my brother’s chrome nightmare and rolled my eyes — he had to be compensating for something with that thing. Managing to peek into the café without being seen, sure enough, he was sitting at a booth with two men across from him. I recognized one of them from somewhere. He looked familiar and not much older than us — a local kid, maybe?
Moving a little closer, I froze when I recognized the face.
“Shit,” I swore and backed up in case anyone at the table looked up. “Shit.”
Bryan Duffy.
“Damn it,” I cursed again, aware of the fact that people were staring at me now but not caring.
What the hell was JJ doing at a lunch meeting with Bryan Duffy? He was a year older than my brother and had been as big of a dirtbag back in school as he was now, if rumors around the neighborhood were true.
He and his older brother had scammed just about every elderly neighbor in a five-mile vicinity starting from the time they were old enough to promise to cut the person’s grass every Friday afternoon. They’d take money for a month or two in advance and never show up. That was my first run-in with them. They’d managed to bilk my Nan out of fifty dollars and never once came to cut her grass.
JJ had gone to talk to Bryan about it only to come home with a black eye. Pop had gone down to Micky’s Pub to speak to Duffy’s old man and had come back a little roughed up too. Lucky for him, he was good friends with Jimmy and Joseph Casey, who proceeded to return the favor the following month.
Whatever happened back then, the boys hadn’t learned their lesson out of the entire debacle, and from the sound of things, had gotten worse — and more illegal — as they got older.
And there he was. My idiot of an older brother was having a slice of pizza with the asshole, looking over paperwork of some kind. As I watched, JJ picked up an envelope, opened it, a smile on his face. When he ran a fingertip along a number of bills, I saw red.
I was pissed, but I also knew better than to charge in there with my guns blazing, because my brother and I had the same Irish temper — quick to explode and quick to detonate anything around. We didn’t need that right now, so I made myself walk back to his stupid fancy truck and wait for him to come out.
He took his time too.
I waited almost ten minutes before he came strolling down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, money already stashed away.
He saw me and stopped on the sidewalk, the frown on his face deep and worried. “What are you doing here?” he asked by way of greeting. He was an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew immediately that something was up.
JJ’s black hair, the same color of my own, was longer than it’d ever been and nearly skimming his collar now. My parents hated it, and my father constantly made fun of him, especially when JJ wore it in a ponytail with his designer sunglasses.
“You look like some cheap Italian hitman wannabe,” Pop said earlier, before JJ had stormed out of the office.
And he did too. He looked like he was trying to make up for the fact that he came from a working-class family, but with his greasy hair, his tacky truck, and his knockoff sunglasses, he just looked cheap.
And now that I knew that he was receiving money from a Duffy, I wanted to knock the sunglasses off his stupid face.
“What’s with the money, JJ?”
If he wasn’t wasting time with the pleasantries, neither was I.
“What?”
He knew what I was talking about, and from the way his eyes darted around, looking for an exit, he knew that I knew as well.
“Don’t insult my intelligence,” I said, stepping forward. He pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I saw Bryan Duffy hand you a stack of cash. I know you’re not reporting all the income you’re making into the books at the office. What are you doing, Jay?”
His face was reddening by the second, and for a brief moment, I thought my brother might actually swing at me. We used to get into some real knock-down, drag-outs back in middle school, and I knew, back then at least, that he wasn’t above hitting a girl.
Now? Probably not, but he was sure pissed off at me. It was written in his expression. From the tic in his jaw. From the way his fist balled around the keys.
“Don’t go sticking your nose into things you know nothing about, Amelia,” he said, keeping his voice low. He glanced over his shoulder in case people were paying attention. In case Bryan Duffy was still around, maybe?
“If it involves Pop, you can bet your ass I’m going to stick my nose in it,” I said, hands on my hips.
In an instant, JJ was in my face, his finger about a half breadth from my nose, his face bright red. His eyes were wide, and his lips were pulled back over his teeth. In a half second, my brother had gone feral.
“You don’t get to skip out on this family for almost a decade and waltz back into town like the queen of England,” he hissed, the beer he’d had at lunch obvious. “You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m going to let you interfere with what I’ve been working on the whole time you’ve been acting like a princess in some kitchen, pretending to have a career.”
“Excuse me?” I pushed forward, ready to put my own finger in his face. “I don’t care what sort of problem you have with me, JJ, but you’re not going to act shady behind Pop’s back. I’m not going to let you—”
“Just try and interfere with me, Amelia,” he said, storming into the street and unlocking his door. “You’ll wish you hadn’t. I swear to God you will.”
With a squeal of tires and smoke, he was gone. His words remained, swarming around me where I stood in shock at his anger and the fact that he hadn’t denied what I accused him of.
No matter how strong my hunch was, I was hoping JJ would at least deny what I presented him with. That he’d tell me I was crazy, that he’d never hurt Pop or Mom like that. But no. He’d been defiant and angry. So damn angry.
Shocked, I wandered back toward the office, careful to school my expression to hide what happened between JJ and me from my father while my brain scrambled to come up with what I was going to do next about my brother.
I still didn’t know exactly what he was doing, though I was starting to piece together he was up to no good, and it would be premature to start a huge fight about it in the family — especially at a time like this. Dr. Stevens had made it clear that Pop needed to take it easy before and after his surgery to ensure the best results. Launching a nuke like this might not be the best step at the moment, though I was scrambling to come up with exactly what to do.
At the end of the day, I walked out to my dad’s truck and let him drive me home. I had a date to get ready for, and while I couldn’t save the day today, it was definitely on my mind and something I wanted to solve quickly.
***
“You’re preoccupied, Amelia.”
Declan’s smooth voice, which did strange things to my body temperature and shifted something deep in my belly, pulled my attention away from the water glass and to his face.
His eyes sparkled with a smile, and he raised an eyebrow at me in a challenge, as though he wanted me to tell him he was wrong.
“Family stuff,” I said, not really wanting to lie, but not wanting to air our family’s dirty laundry either. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I didn’t want to lie to Declan. I also didn’t want him to feel sorry for the Byrne family, which would probably put my father in a grave faster than the cancer would if he knew people were feeling sorry for him.
“Your father?”
I gave a slight nod, because, in theory, it was about Pop too. But mostly, I was livid with JJ and my mind wouldn’t stop bouncing around my options for getting him to tell me what he was doing.
“Yeah,” I said a little lamely, smiling at him. “I’m sorry, Declan. I’m here now, I promise. I’m just having a hard time shaking off the day, I guess.”
We’d finished our meal at a delicious Asian fusion place he’d suggested, which surprised me based on his culinary tastes. And it was fantastic. But everything tasted a little wooden after the fight, and I really just wanted to go home and beat up my older brother.
“You’ll confide in me someday soon,” he said, more of a promise than a question or request. “But I can be patient until then.”
I appreciated the sentiment, but the odds of me telling him what my brother may or may not have been up to, and most especially with whom, were pretty low. I wasn’t exactly proud of JJ at the moment, and I preferred to keep the degree of his idiocy inside the family. At least for now.
“Maybe,” was all I said instead. I added a flirty wink to it to punctuate the fact that I was being playful.
When the check had been paid, Declan slipped my hand into his and led me back to his car. After settling in, instead of heading back toward my parents’ house, which I wasn’t excited about anyway, the car went another direction.
I glanced over at him with a suspicious look when we found ourselves at The Capstone on the Point Hotel, and a doorman was opening my door.
Frowning at Declan, I waited for him to explain.
“No way, Amelia,” he said, trying not to laugh. “You’re not getting in my pants that easily. I’m here to show you something. Outside the hotel.”
I hoped the blush that I felt warming my cheeks wasn’t too obvious. I hadn’t really thought we were here for a hotel room, but he had to admit it looked suspicious.
He grabbed my hand, and our fingers linked together as we walked away from the hotel about five hundred yards past the parking lot. We were near the water, and the lights from the hotel danced on the surface in the dark like a sea full of stars.
Declan walked slowly, keeping my arm close to his body so that I was soaking up his natural heat.
“What’s out here?” I took in the sights and noticed that we’d walked over to a shopping center of some sort.
The light from the street lamps was plenty bright compared to the scarier parts of Colombia Point a mile or so down the road. The place was beautifully built and perfectly landscaped.
“This is part of my project,” Declan announced. “My life’s work.”
He was so proud of it, it shone from his face and was fairly infectious.
Declan explained what he was doing. His vision behind taking a place like Colombia Point and turning it into something the neighborhood could be proud of. Shops that people would want to visit, restaurants that people would want to eat at.
“And not just tourists, Amelia,” he said, the enthusiasm radiating from him. “The people from our neighborhood. Our cousins. Our uncles. I’m not trying to edge out anyone by putting in tourist traps that nobody can afford.”
He talked so fast, the words flying from his mouth, and I found myself swept up in his vision too. A place for people to gather. A place to be proud of. A place to bring money into the neighborhood. A reason for others to come to the neighborhood and share their creative talents. I saw it all through Declan’s eyes and felt the electricity rush through me as I watched the man, usually so polished and put together, get a wild look in his eyes.
I was captivated.
So much so that I stopped short, and when he turned to see what was wrong, I pulled him to me. I didn’t think through my next move, I simply grabbed the man by the back of his head and pulled him to me, crushing my lips against his, his body to mine.
And for the first time all day, I didn’t think about what I had to do or who I had to save.
I got to think about who I wanted to be with right in that moment, and right then and there, I wanted to be with Declan Casey. I wanted to claim him. And I wanted him to claim me.