Page 21 of Just Trouble

“No, but that’s not a great thing to have in common.” She gets a bottle of white wine from the fridge, one that’s already been opened, and pours.

I toast her. “To incremental progress,” I say. “Thanks, Daph, for riding to war on this.”

“Sorry I didn’t do better.”

“You got more than I would have done. He refused before he even knew what I wanted when I tried to ask.”

“He knew this offer was from you.”

“Probably one of the golden boys spilled the truth.”

She leans a hip against the counter, watching me. “Have they always closed rank against you?”

I shrug. The truth is self-evident.

She sips the wine, eyes simmering again. “It’s so unfair,” she says under her breath. I have to love the idea that Daph is feeling protective of yours truly, but she probably just hates to lose.

It’s almost worth ticking her off just to see her like this. You know I’m wondering what she looks like when she comes. You know I’m wondering if I’ll ever have a chance to find out. She’s making me feel like my old self, but not quite.

What’s new is that I’m only interested in this one woman. Is it because she’s unavailable to me? I do have a history of hankering after anything I know I can’t have. The very fact that I’m standing in her kitchen with a glass of wine is proof that she doesn’t find me either interesting or threatening. I’m just another job, or maybe a favor because I’m her BFF’s brother.

I take another sip of wine, telling myself to get over it, which means I have a mouthful to choke on when Daph surprises me again.

“So, what exactly happened to Taylor?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder after adding the asparagus to the tray. Shepivots and braces a hand on her hip, her gaze boring into me. “Why are you so sure it was your fault?”

My recovery isn’t graceful and she hands me a tea towel, not giving it up for an instant. The options run through my mind at lightning speed.

“Does it have anything to do with your new tattoo?”

I must look like a fish gasping for air. My thoughts spin through the possibilities.

I could deflect the question.

I could lie.

I could avoid confronting the loss that has flattened me, just the way I’ve been ducking it for more than a year.

Or I could seize the opportunity and tell someone about it. Once this deal is done, chances are very good that I’ll never see Daph again. She’s determined to stay in Empire, for whatever reason, and I’m set on leaving, forever this time. (I have to think the chances of hell freezing over are comparatively low, especially in the spring.)

She’s a good candidate for a confidence even without that consideration. She won’t tell anyone, maybe not even Abbie. She’s a clear thinker and will ask good questions.

She’s perceptive and isn’t afraid to call me on anything.

I could do worse, a lot worse.

I drain the glass and put it down, indicating that I don’t want more. Then I sit on one of the bar stools and start to talk. It’s surprisingly easy to find a starting point. Maybe Daph’s a really good listener.

Maybe it’s just time.

5

DAPHNE

Idon’t expect Luke to confide in me, but he does.

He doesn’t even protest.

Good thing dinner’s ready and I can sit down, pretending that my meal has my undivided attention. There’s something about having him in my house, about him filling this space—myspace—that is disconcerting. It’s more unsettling that he seems to belong here, but that’s just me making excuses for enjoying his presence.

---