All Through the Night: A Troubleshooter Christmas (26 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Brockmann

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BOOK: All Through the Night: A Troubleshooter Christmas
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Dolphina just sat off to the side as the last of her mascara washed down her face.

Of course, it didn't help that she'd spent most of the past week crying. For no apparent reason.

Robin and Jules had both rather gently suggested that she at least listen to what Will Schroeder had to say. He'd called, he'd e-mailed, he'd FedExed letters, he'd even shown up at the door.

But she'd shut him out again and again.

He'd even been here tonight, waiting in the restaurant lobby as she'd arrived early to make sure everything was ready for the rehearsal dinner. He'd looked awful, as if he wasn't sleeping, either. He'd actually shaved and put on a suit and tie, with real dress shoes instead of his stupid sneakers.

Because she'd been early, she
had
listened to what he had to say.

“I'm sorry I lied,” Will told her. “I've spent a lot of years lying, and it's…a hard habit to break. I was afraid you'd get into trouble, and I just opened my mouth and…It came out. It was wrong. I was wrong. It was a huge mistake. I've got this…book I'm working on now, and…I thought that was what I wanted, and I was wrong about that, too. I would trade it, in a heartbeat, for another chance with you.”

And then he'd stood there, looking at her as if he actually hoped she'd say,
Okay. Sure. You can have another chance. And maybe this time, I'll be stupid enough to
sleep
with you before you break my heart. Again.

Instead, she said, “You used me. You were trying to get me to go out with you. You were attracted to me and you knew I…felt the same and yet…I was only upstairs for a few minutes that day. Apparently you didn't spend very much time wrestling with whether or not you should help yourself to my computer files.”

“No, I didn't,” he admitted quietly. “But I should have.”

“You, of all people,” she said. “After what your ex-wife did…” She'd found out more about Will's break-up via Google. It hadn't just been ugly, it had been public, as well.

Apparently, his photographer wife had used him to gain access to people and places. She'd used his research skills, too, to snap a series of award-winning photos that had propelled her to a new level—at which point she'd dropped Will like a stone, all but flashing him an L-for-loser sign as she walked out the door.

“I was wrong,” Will said again now. “I've been thinking about it and…I think I've been living for so long in this cutthroat world where it's…every man for himself. It's hard to not do unto others what's been done unto me.”

“So let me get this straight.” Dolphina crossed her arms. “It's hard for you to not lie, and it's hard for you to behave like a considerate human being. I should fall into your arms because…?”

“Because I love you,” he said quietly. “That's got to be worth something to you, because it's everything to me.”

But she was already shaking her head.

“I'm not perfect,” he said. “I know that.”

“Understatement,” she said.

He laughed softly. “Yeah. I wouldn't want anything to do with me, either. It's just, you make me want to be…more than I am. You make me want to be a team player again, Dolphina.”

She almost caved at that one. He almost had her. But she just kept on shaking her head. “I can't do this,” she said. “I just…I can't.”

Will was looking into her eyes, and he nodded. “I'd be too scared, too. It's scary—”

“I'm not too scared,” she said sharply. “I'm too smart.”

“Ah,” he said. “I thought you were…scared. My mistake. I…make a lot of them, apparently.”

“You should go,” she said. “The guests will be arriving soon.”

“Right,” Will said. He turned away, but then turned back. “We have one last photo session scheduled. For tomorrow afternoon. I never got a picture of the guys in their tuxedos—Robin wanted me to wait until he got his haircut, you know, for the wedding.”

Robin had needed to keep his hair shaggy and long while he was filming Art Urban's new pilot. He'd finally gotten it cut that very afternoon, immediately after the wedding rehearsal. He looked amazingly good—and it was clear to Dolphina that Jules had thought so, too. He'd come home from having coffee with Sam and had found this shiny, clean-cut, blindingly handsome version of Robin in his kitchen. He'd circled his fiancé about a half a dozen times, and then pulled him upstairs to check out the new towels in their finally completed master bathroom.

Right. As if towel viewing always took the better part of an hour.

“I'll make sure they're ready for you,” Dolphina told Will. Tomorrow—Friday—had purposely been a lightly scheduled day. Friends would be arriving for Saturday morning's wedding. Plans included nothing more strenuous than a sleep-late morning, and a casual evening get-together at the house.

Will nodded. He looked as if he wanted to say something more, so she'd waited. Impatiently.

“I'll see you tomorrow, then,” he finally said, and went out the door.

 

F
RIDAY
, D
ECEMBER
14
B
OSTON
, M
ASSACHUSETTS

Robin's brother-in-law's crazy mom had reassured everyone that she would be able to get a cab from Logan Airport when her flight arrived much, much too early in the morning, on the day before the wedding.

She hadn't wanted to intrude on yesterday's rehearsal dinner despite Robin's assurances that he'd love for her to come out early with Jane, Cosmo, and Billy, and join the party.

Instead, she'd taken this later flight, insisting she was perfectly able to make her own way to Robin and Jules's house in Boston's South End.

Which was why Cosmo and Jane had gone to red alert when, an hour after her arrival time, she'd failed to appear at the front door.

“She's not answering her cell phone,” Cosmo reported.

“She probably forgot to turn it on when she landed,” Janey suggested.

“Should we try to page her at the airport?” Robin had shuffled into the kitchen in his bathrobe, to grab a mug of coffee for Jules, who was still upstairs in bed, trying desperately to pretend that little Billy's breakfast temper tantrum hadn't blasted their day's sleep-late plans clear out of the water.

Nothing like luxuriating in bed, knowing that their first appointment wasn't until the afternoon, while being serenaded by
But I want to! But I need to! No! NO!

Robin loved his nephew, but
Jesus.
The kid had a pair of lungs.

“Sorry about the Cheerios thing,” Janey murmured as he yawned his way over to the refrigerator.

“That was about Cheerios?” he asked, eyeing Billy, who was still sniffling as he sat in his high chair, a slumped picture of misery, suffering the parentally-decreed injustice of having his right to eat at the “big boy” table taken away from him due to his failure to act like said big boy. Damn, what would the noise levels have been like if it had been about Lucky Charms or Cap'n Crunch? And then he realized that that
was
what it had been about. Billy had wanted some of the high-energy-inducing cereal that Robin and Jules kept in their cabinets.

Someone—thank you, Jules—had taken out the box of Corn Pops last night, no doubt to have a snack, and left it on the counter for Billy to see at oh-my-God-o'clock, when he'd woken up.

“Sorry,” Robin told his sister as he finally unburied the cinnamon bread and put two slices into the toaster.

“I can't believe you still eat that sugary…stuff,” she said.

“It's Jules's,” he told her as he got out a plate and a tray to carry the coffee and toast upstairs. He gave her a wicked smile. “He likes things that are…extra sweet.”

Janey laughed as she gazed at him over the top of her coffee mug. “With your hair like that, you look like you did when you were twelve.”

Robin bent down to look at his wavery reflection in the microwave window. His newly cut hair would indeed have won the gold medal in the Bedhead Olympics this morning. He rubbed his un-shaved chin. “Not quite.”

“Yeah,” Jane agreed. “Back then, you walked around with this…perpetual expression of anxiety. Robbie, it's wonderful to see you looking so happy.”

The cinnamon bread popped out of the toaster, and Robin put it on the plate, then grabbed a knife from the drawer. “I'm not just looking happy,” he told his sister as he buttered the toast with that organic soybean spread stuff that Jules liked. “I
am
happy.”

Her smile got tremulous. “I'm so glad. Robin, you can't know how proud I am of you.”

“Stop.” He made a cross between them, with the knife and his finger. “This kitchen has a weeping limit and Billy used up the morning's allotment.”

Jane laughed. “I just wanted you to know,” she said, this incredible woman, this half-sister who'd so fiercely loved the little abandoned boy he'd once been. She'd saved him with her attention and affection—even when it sometimes had its downsides. Like the time she'd used him—in her defense, he had been a willing volunteer—to see if syrup of ipecac truly worked.

For the record—it did.

Jane leaned closer now, lowering her voice, mischief in her eyes. “I still can't believe you scored Jules Cassidy. If I were a guy, I'd turn gay for him, too.”

Robin looked at her. “I didn't
turn
gay,” he said. “I always was gay and yeah, okay, you're just being a jerk.”

“Don't you get tired of always correcting reporters?” she asked, grinning at him.


My sexual orientation never changed,
” Robin recited. “
I merely stopped pretending that I was straight—pretending to myself as well as everyone else.
Yeah, I don't even need to think anymore, I just open my mouth and the words come out, I've said it so many fucking times.” He glanced at Billy and winced. “Sorry.”

Fortunately, the kid was paying attention to something his father was quietly telling him.

And then Jane was smiling over Robin's shoulder. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Jules had thrown on sweats and a T-shirt and was bee-lining for the coffee. He rarely added the
good
until he'd caffeined up.

“I already poured you some, babe,” Robin told him. “I was going to bring it up.” He gestured to the tray, and Jules stopped short and his morning blear turned to wonder.

“You were bringing me breakfast in bed,” he realized. “You are
so
sweet.”

Robin shot Jane a
See?
look, and she laughed.

“I think he was trying to make up for screaming nephew syndrome,” she said as Jules came over and gave Robin a kiss. “We
are
checking into the hotel for tonight and tomorrow. I know you both have been trying to convince us that it's okay to stay here, but…This latest bout of boundary testing can get really loud and we can't back down—it's a battle we can't afford to lose. I've already packed up our things—we'll be out of here shortly.”

Robin looked at Jules, and Jules looked back at Robin.

“Strangely, I feel no need to argue with you,” Jules told Jane. “So, thank you.”

“Yeah,” Robin added. “If anyone's going to be screaming
But I want to, but I need to
on the morning of my wedding day, it's going to be me.”

Jules laughed as he picked up a piece of the toast Robin had made for him. “Has he always let whatever he's thinking just…fly right out of his mouth?” he asked Jane before taking a bite.

“Pretty much,” she said, laughing, too.

“God, this is good,” Jules said with his mouth full. He'd moved slightly, so that he was close enough to touch Robin's leg with his own, to put his bare foot on top of Robin's as they stood there talking to Janey across the kitchen's center island. “I can't believe you made me breakfast in bed.”

“It's just toast.” Robin put his arm around Jules, tugging him even closer. “Besides, you know what happens when you drink coffee on an empty stomach, babe.” He made a face at Jane. “Coffee farts.”

Jules turned and gave him his
what-the-fuck
face. “Yeah, hello, that would be
you,
thank you very much.”

“As of tomorrow morning we'll be married,” Robin pointed out, trying to gross his sister out. Old habits died hard. “And my farts will be your farts, forevermore.”

“Robin, ew,” Jane said.
Score.

But Jules just laughed as he smiled into Robin's eyes. “It must be love, because I'm actually okay with that.”

“Janey, I'm on hold with the airline,” Cosmo said from across the room, frustration ringing in his usually fluster-proof voice. “Will you try calling my mom's cell again?”

“Of course.”

“What's going on?” Jules asked, as Jane opened her own cell phone and dialed.

“Cosmo misplaced his mother,” Robin told him.

“Hang on, Jane,” Cosmo said. “I've got her on call waiting—she's beeping me right now. Mom,” he said into the phone. “Are you all right?”

Cosmo's mom was a still youthful fifty-something, but she could be a real space cadet at times. Still, Robin adored her.

“She's fine,” Cosmo reported, and they all breathed a sigh of relief. “You're
where
?” he said into the phone. “South Boston.”

Robin started to laugh.

“No, Mom,” Cosmo said, with the patience of a saint. “South Boston is
not
the same as the South End.”

And wasn't
that
an understatement? The South End, where Jules and Robin lived, was Boston's gay neighborhood. South Boston, however, was near Dorchester, where Robin's character Joe Laughlin had grown up. It was blue collar and heavily Irish Catholic—not exactly a part of town where Robin and Jules would be able to stroll down the street, hand in hand.

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