You Had Me at Good-bye Page 10

But then, he hangs around with Kale. And my brother has a big mouth.

  “Well, as you can see, I’m getting along just fine.” I look at him askance. “My new colleague is a definite step up from anyone I’ve ever worked with before. And he yells at me on a regular basis.”

  “I suppose I deserve that. Well, I mean I don’t, but I suppose in your mind I do, so that amounts to about the same thing. In your mind, that is.” That’s English bumbling if I’ve ever heard it. And it’s actually strangely charming. Confusing, but endearing in a Hugh Grant sort of way.

  Oh, could I just stop it with the fluctuating emotions? I’m worse than Tallulah in Virgie’s manuscript. We stop at a light, and I jab the “walk” button.

  “I’m afraid I didn’t make myself very clear, did I?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He chuckles. “Neither do I, to be perfectly honest.”

  “Well, then. I guess we have nothing more to say.” I send him a tight smile as the “walk” symbol flashes. “I’ll probably see you around in a month or so.” I lift up a hand of farewell, hoping he’ll take the hint.

  “I suppose . . .”

  And I hurry across the street, fighting to keep myself from looking over my shoulder to see if he’s following.

  8

  Valerie’s heart melted at the sight of all the children. Twice a day they lined up for their meal of oatmeal or beans. Valerie spooned food into their dishes. Their smiles of gratitude would brighten even the darkest heart. And somewhere in those grins and giggles, Valerie began to heal, until she wondered if maybe there was a purpose to her life after all.

  —An excerpt from Fifth Avenue Princess

  by Dancy Ames

  The next day at Nick’s floats into another hectic day of volunteer work, and by the end of the week I’m more tired than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Even worse than cheerleading camp. Amazing how the body runs down after twelve years—that’s how long it’s been since I rah-rah-rah’d for anyone.

  I slip into a pair of pink crop sweats from Victoria’s Secret and a short-sleeved T-shirt, pull my hair into a ponytail, and settle in to spend a quiet night working on my manuscript. Not that I think in a million years it could ever be published. But it’s nice to let my creative juices flow.

  Tabby’s got a cast party to celebrate Legacy of Life’s twenty-fifth anniversary on the air. Laini went to support her, leaving me the freedom to stay home.

  The only problem with Laini slipping out to a party is that she isn’t home to cook. I suppose I’ll have to order takeout. Actually, I should probably skip supper and go for a run. Since I’ve been helping Nick, I’ve graduated from really tight size 2 jeans to a full-blown, form-fitting size 4. My body won’t fit into a 2, no matter how far I suck in and squeeze. It’s just not going to happen. But I have to say, at least I’m never hungry anymore.

  I’m just about to pick up the phone to call Charlie’s Chinese Emporium when the buzzer goes off, informing me I have company. I jump and run to the door. “Who is it?”

  “Two hungry men here to take you out for chili dogs at the bowling alley, little sister.” Kale! He must have brought Jack with him, hence the two hungry men.

  My heart picks up like I just ran two miles (which, in all honesty, I should have). “Hang on a sec, Kale.”

  I hate to admit this, but the first thing I do is sprint to the closest mirror to check out my appearance. Oh, brother. Smeary makeup and a really ugly ponytail. I yank out my ponytail and immediately crazy curls spring out all over the place. I spritz my hair and smoosh my curls back in place, then douse them with finishing spray until my hair looks, if not good, at least acceptable. The buzzer goes off again. Three buzzes in a row.

  That’s so annoying. I hate persistent buzzing, especially when he knows full well I’m on my way. “Okay,” I mutter and buzz them in.

  I open the door to the sight of Kale and . . . oh, it’s not Jack. It’s my two brothers. Brandon and Kale. My disappointment at Jack’s absence is disconcerting, to say the least. All I can do is stare at my brothers, both of them standing in the hallway with grins on their faces. Even Brandon. Well, “grin” might be a slight exaggeration. But at least he’s not sneering.

  “This is a surprise. What are you guys doing?”

  Kale pushes in without an invitation. “Where are those gorgeous friends of yours? We men need a little eye candy this evening.”

  “I’m telling Brynn,” I say to Kale.

  “Fine, tell her at the bowling alley. She’s waiting for us there.”

  “Bowling?” I can’t help but reveal my distaste for the game.

  Brandon sneers. “Figures. She thinks she’s too good for bowling.” He spins around and heads for the door. “Come on, bro. Let’s leave her here.”

  “Bro?” Since when did these two bond? I give Kale a questioning eyebrow-raise and he smiles. “Brandon went to church with me Sunday and Wednesday night. Now he’s going to the church-sponsored bowling night.”

  Wow, Kale accomplished a lot in a week and a half. Where have I been?

  “That’s, um, great, Brandon.” I give him a thumbs-up.

  He rolls his eyes. “Let me guess. You don’t bowl or go to church.”

  “Well, not regularly, but I’ve really been thinking I should start.”

  “You have?” Kale says in that mocking tone I know so well from childhood. “Church or bowling?” Kale’s lips twitch, and I want to sock him.

  “Church.” I resist the urge to stick out my tongue like I did at Jack.

  Brandon grunts. “Sure.”

  “I have!”

  I’ve never felt more like an outsider. Except, of course, when my dad revealed that I’ve had a brother I didn’t know about for the last sixteen years. Other than that . . . Brandon and Kale have formed a bond that has nothing to do with me. So if I have to bowl to break into that bond and feel loved, I suppose that’s what I have to do.

  “All right,” I say with a nod. “Give me a few minutes to get dressed.”

  Brandon’s eyebrows push together. “You are dressed.”

  Kale sits on the couch and pulls Brandon with him. He plops his size 12 Nikes onto the coffee table, grabs the remote, and looks at our little brother. “One thing you’ll have to learn about our sister. She never goes anywhere without the perfect outfit. So just relax and watch some baseball.”

  “Oh, brother.”

  “Stop rolling your eyes. One of these days, you’ll find a girl, and you’ll be glad she takes a little time to make herself presentable.”

  Brandon snorts. “I already got ’em lined up to go out with me. Besides, who are you trying to be presentable for? Last I heard, you haven’t had a date in a long time.”

  My face is hot as I step down the hall. I’m horrified at how aptly the kid has spoken. My life summed up in Anne Klein and Versace. He’s right. Who am I trying to impress? I stare down at my pink crop pants and make a hasty decision. Rummaging through my shoes, I find matching pink flip-flops, grab my Prada bag, and stomp down the hall to my two brothers.

  “Well? What are you two lazy men waiting for? Let’s go bowl. I’m dying for a chili dog.”

  I have to smile at the bewilderment pasted on Kale’s face. But once the shock is over, he does something I’ve rarely seen him do. He nods in approval. As though I’ve passed some sort of test.

  Part of me appreciates it. The other part—the independent career woman—wants to tell him I don’t happen to need his approval. But mostly, I bask in the glory of, for once, gaining a nod from my big brother.

  “So, Brandon,” I say as we settle into Kale’s car. (Personally, I think he should park the thing and take public transportation or walk, like 90 percent of New Yorkers do, but with his schedule at the hospital and always being on call, he’s determined to keep his car.) “How is school going?”

  “It’s summer,” he grunts.

  My face goes hot. Isn’t that the icebreaker adults are supposed t
o use to get kids talking?

  “Oh. Well, how’s your summer going?”

  He deadpans a look my way. “My mom split for Jersey and I’m living with a dad who doesn’t want me.”

  “Give her a break, Brandon,” Kale says in my defense, just as I’m about to tell him to let me out so I can walk back home. “She’s trying to get to know you.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “Never mind,” I say to Kale. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Brandon. The questions were only meant to be conversation starters.” I rack my brain. “So you like Kale’s church, huh?”

  He shrugs. “It’s okay. For church.”

  Kale swings a sideways glance at me, and I read it loud and clear: “Leave the kid alone.”

  I settle into the seat and decide to just keep my mouth shut for the rest of the trip.

  When we reach the bowling alley, Kale finds a place to park and we head inside. He grabs my arm and holds me back as Brandon saunters in like he owns the place.

  “Don’t take anything he says personally,” Kale says. “He’s had it tough, growing up without us.”

  I scowl. “I know that. Do you think I’m honestly so self-centered that I can’t see the hurt behind his machismo?”

  Kale’s eyes scan my face. I’m almost afraid of what he might say. “Maybe you’re growing up.”

  And that’s all he says as he opens the door. I’m too stunned to even protest or demand to know what he means by that. Instead, like the weenie I am, I slither inside the bowling alley.

  They’re playing Christian music, there’s no smoking, and I don’t hear one swearword. It’s almost like it’s not a real bowling alley.

  “The church rented out the bowling alley for the night,” Kale informs me as though reading my thoughts. “There’s Brynn. Let’s go.”

  My brother’s fiancée lights up like a Chinese lantern the second she sees us and she waves wildly. I’m drawn by her warmth, and it’s hard to hold on to my grudge that she’s getting my apartment just for marrying Kale. She’s just too nice. It’s a wonder Kale ever found a girl like this. But I do have to admit, he’s changed a lot over the last couple of years. He’s a regular offering-giving churchgoer.

  And don’t get me wrong, I’m not completely against church. As a matter of fact, as previously stated, I’ve been there a few times with Tabby this year.

  I select a bowling ball, and my arm practically falls out of its socket. Sheesh. “These things are heavy.”

  Brandon laughs. “Haven’t you ever bowled?”

  “Not much.”

  “Oh, boy. This is going to be like taking candy from a baby. Want to bet on the game? I could use a little extra cash.”

  “Very funny.”

  As it turns out, as long as I do a two-handed “granny bowl” I don’t do too badly. Do I win? Not by a long shot, but Kale, Brynn, Brandon, and I eat cheese fries and chili dogs, drink tons of Diet Pepsi, and laugh our heads off.

  Finally I excuse myself and walk toward the ladies’ room. Nearby laughter grips my attention, and I turn to see a group of teens having a water fight. I smile. They’re going to get it in about three and a half seconds. I turn back just in time to slam into a rock-hard chest. Male hands steady me.

  My instinct is to fight. “Hey, watch where you’re go—,” but I look up into Jack Quinn’s gorgeous face, “—ing.”

  “Sorry,” he says, his face inches from mine, his hands wrapped around my arms.

  “Wh-what are you doing here?” Why can’t I catch my breath?

  “Church bowling night.” He’s looking at me like . . . I don’t know . . . like no one’s ever looked at me before. What’s he saying? “I was going to invite you earlier. But you rather ran off before I could ask, didn’t you?”

  “Oh.” He isn’t turning me loose, and I don’t care at the moment. Someone shoves against me from behind and presses me even closer to Jack. He draws a quick breath, his gaze flickering to my lips and back to my eyes.

  “Hey, when did my best chum’s little sister become such a lovely young woman?” he asks, a combination of British accent and huskiness nearly sending me through the floor.

  He slips his arm around me just as I hear a woman’s voice.

  “There you are, Jack. Oh, look, you’ve found Dancy.”

  Wh-what? No!

  I try to shake myself from my stupor, and slowly the fog begins to fade. Clarity is returning, and with it a touch of embarrassment at how quickly my resolve took a dive at the merest hint of attention from this man.

  It’s a good thing I’m being interrupted, right?

  Jack looks like he’s been hit by a truck. My cousin Sheri’s eyes are twinkling with laughter. “Is this how you treat your dates, Jack? As soon as my back is turned, he hits on my cousin.”

  “No he didn’t,” I speak up. “He wasn’t watching where he was going and slammed into me. He was just taking me to get some air so I could catch my breath.” Am I talking too fast? I am, aren’t I?

  “That’s mostly true,” he says drily. “Only I believe I was the victim of the so-called slamming incident.”

  “No. I’m sure it was the other way around,” I insist through gritted teeth.

  “No, my dear Dancy,” he says with that boyish grin, “I’m afraid you’re completely mistaken.”

  Sheri gives what can only be interpreted as a befuddled little laugh. “Neither of you can remember how she ended up in your arms?” she asks Jack. “I’m not sure I like that at all. I’m going to have to insist upon the truth immediately. Or I might throw a hissy fit right here in the middle of the bowling alley.”

  “Well,” Jack says, “if you insist.”

  My throat goes dry. Is he going to almost kiss and tell? I can hear it now, all about how I was desperate for a kiss and he was going to take me outside to talk some sense into me. I’m outraged. What do they teach those British guys these days? They used to be such gentlemen.

  I suck in a breath, ready to refute anything he says as he turns to Sheri. “The truth of the matter is that your lovely cousin was completely distracted and had no idea I was standing there. She slammed right into me, and I had no choice but to steady her. That is how she ended up in my arms. Not an entirely unpleasant experience, I might add.”

  Well, that’s better than “pathetic cry for affection,” I suppose.

  Sheri gives a laugh. “No harm done. Right?” She slips her beautifully manicured hand through his arm and looks down at me from her five-eleven frame. Then her gaze shifts to over my shoulder.

  “Oh, there’s Kale and Brynn. And, oh my goodness, that must be my new little cousin.” She turns to Jack. “Shall we go get introduced?”

  “By all means.” He turns to me, his eyes revealing much more than I want to see. “I apologize for bumping into you.”

  I put on what I hope is a convincingly nonchalant look. “Like Sheri said, no harm done.”

  I watch them walk away, and I have to admit I just told a fat lie. There was most definitely harm done. I’m in desperate jeopardy of falling for my brother’s best friend, my annoying superior at work. Why does Jack Quinn have to be the man of my dreams? And why does Sheri have to keep showing up and being so beautiful?

  As it turns out, Sheri is a much better bowler than I am. Something I use to my full advantage. Especially when Jack decides to be my knight in shining armor.

  “Let me show you,” he says. His warm arms encircle me, and for the first time in my life I’m glad I’m an utter failure at something. Even with his help, my ball lands in the gutter.

  I turn to him and shrug. “Thanks anyway.”

  For the life of me, I can’t get the knack of this game. Bowling escapes my understanding on any level above using granny moves to get the ball from my hands, down the lane, and more often than not, directly into the gutter.

  Brandon shakes his head and scowls. “You’re hopeless. Seriously, there’s no hope for you. Give up this game and go back to tennis or whatever you rich
girls play.”

  “Oh, Dancy doesn’t play anything at all,” Sheri chimes in. I think she’s still a little peeved that Jack is so close to me. I’ve never seen this catlike side of my cousin before. Probably because I’ve never been competition before. “All she does is work.”

  She grabs her ball and gives me a smile. Why have I never noticed those venomous fangs before? She takes her steps, one-two-three, and releases the ball—into the gutter. “Oops,” she says with a fake laugh. She turns her enormous blue eyes on Jack. “Maybe you should show me too?”

  Jack looks like a deer caught in headlights.

  I move back and take a seat next to Brynn. “Are you going to let her get away with that?” she whispers, as Jack’s arms encircle Sheri.

  Kale must have overheard because he leans in and says to Brynn, “What are you talking about? Jack doesn’t think about Dancy like that. She barely had the braces off her teeth when they met. He thinks she’s a spoiled little girl.” And, horror of horrors, he reaches out and ruffles my hair. “Just like I do.”

  The statement rips through me, and I jerk my head away from his apelike hand.

  In Jack’s arms, Sheri gets a strike. She squeals and turns, throwing herself at him shamelessly. “See what a good teacher you are?” she asks over his shoulder as she presses against him.

  Unable to bear the cliché of an idiotic male being manipulated by a beautiful woman, I shove to my feet. “I’m getting another chili dog.”

  “I’ll tell Mother,” Kale says with a snicker.

  I stick out my tongue just as Jack and Sheri rejoin the conversation.

  Jack chuckles. “She really is a spoiled child, isn’t she?” he says to Kale.

  Kale flashes a glance to Brynn in one of those “I told you so” looks.

  “Where are you going, Dancy?” Sheri calls.

  “She’s getting a chili dog,” Brandon butts in. “Hang on, I’m coming with you.”

  “Be a love and bring me back a Diet Coke, will you?” Sheri is relentless.

  I wave over my shoulder.

  “Why are you letting her squeeze you out like that?” Brandon demands as soon as we plant ourselves at the back of the lengthy line.