Want Me (11 page)

If asked for details, Shannon would deftly change the subject to the payroll, and that would be that. It was an underhanded thing to do, given her mother’s guilt at leaving the accounting to Shannon, but all was fair in…

Not love or war. Just evasion, plain and simple.

It really was time for her to move out of the house. As much as she loved her family and this house, she yearned for the freedom. Yes, she would resent paying rent to live in a strange apartment, especially knowing how exorbitant rents were in the city, but last night had shown her how impossible it was that she still lived with her parents. It had nothing to do with Nate. She wasn’t fooling herself in any way. He would leave at some point, she knew that.

She turned on the water in the shower, then stripped and stood under the spray. It was foolish to start worrying about moving out yet. There would be plenty of time for that when Nate was out of the country, out of her life. Then there would be the inevitable fall… .

Okay, she was not going down that path. Nate wasn’t gone. He was here right now. There would be time enough for regrets later. Today, she would be happy to see him. If she were lucky, they would be able to spend time together tonight. If not tonight, then soon.

She couldn’t afford to let this fling take over her life. First came the job, the very important business of getting new clients. Everything else came in at a distant second, including her sex life.

If there was one thing she’d mastered, it was how to prioritize. As much as she liked Nate, he wasn’t at the top of the list. Even if she wanted him to be.

11

D
ANNY
SPRAWLED
AGAINST
the booth back at Molly’s, his second beer nearly gone and his gaze meandering over a couple of girls who didn’t look old enough to drive, let alone drink. Nate glanced at his watch, wondering when Shannon was going to get there. He hadn’t seen her since yesterday morning except in passing. It hadn’t been intentional, just bad timing. But he’d thought about her. Too often.

“Yeah, no, the work is good,” Danny said. “I mean, it’s decent for an ad firm. There’s only gonna be so much freedom in an environment like Madison Avenue. But I’m starting to put together a portfolio of my own stuff, you know? On the internet.”

“That must be easier than getting a gallery showing.”

“Yeah, but it’s easier for everyone else, too, so you still need to get the showings. Maybe now more than ever. I’m getting there, though. I’ve had a few private commissions.”

“Yeah? Why haven’t I seen any of your work?”

Danny grunted. “Because you’re a selfish pig who never asked.”

“Yeah, I love you, too, bro. Seriously, what’s it under? Your name?”

“Yeah.” Danny sat up straighter and pulled out what looked like a baseball card from his back pocket and flicked it over to Nate.

“This is yours?”

“No, I’m showing you my aunt Martha’s artwork. Of course it’s mine.”

The picture on the cover of the trading card was striking as hell. Like some of the best graphic-novel work he’d seen, right up there with Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons. “You’re kidding me with this, right?” he asked.

“What?”

Nate stared at him. “You’re an illustrator? These commissions, have they been for comics?”

Danny smiled at him. “Not yet. I know I should have told you before now what I was doing, but I wanted to… Anyway, I’m getting my stuff out there. I’ve had a few calls, had a few encouraging rejections. In the meantime the day job is great, if a person has to have a day job.”

“You were always drawing something, mostly where you weren’t supposed to. But not stuff like this. You were into street art. Like Banksy or something.” Nate grinned. “Remember that wall behind the supermarket?”

Danny nodded as he laughed. “I thought for sure we were going to jail.”

“You and me both. How long were we stuck under that crate?”

“Three hours?”

“It felt like three years.” Nate turned over the card. Read the short bio and the contact info, and admired the two other small images. “This is clever,” he said, holding up the card. “You did this at your plant, huh?”

Danny nodded. “Lots of artists do trading cards. It’s a thing now.”

“Huh. Can I keep this?”

“What do you think?” Danny asked, then signaled Peggy the waitress. “The pisser is I’d be able to quit the day job and concentrate all my energy on illustration if it weren’t for the Princess.”

Nate put down the card. “What do you mean?”

Danny sighed. “She’s determined to keep the old bucket of a printing plant running. Man, she kills herself over it and my folks won’t let anyone tell her she’s wasting her time.”

“Wasting her time?”

“You have any idea how much money the folks are sitting on with that place? They want to retire. My father says Ireland, and Ma just laughs and gets secret brochures from Florida. Brady’s been offered a couple of great jobs that he can’t take because the Princess isn’t supposed to know that trading cards aren’t ever going to be enough, although to be fair, he wouldn’t mind staying at the plant forever. But the truth is we’re losing textbook contracts and catalogues. The land is worth so much more than the business, it’s not even funny. The whole situation is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of. We’re talking millions of dollars. That’s not even counting selling off the equipment. And then if we sold the house? Shit.”

“The business has been in your family for generations. And the house? No way your parents would let go of the house,” Nate said, even though the thought had crossed his mind. Yeah, he’d said something about it to Shannon, but he hadn’t been serious.

“Wanna bet?”

Nate took a drink of his Guinness as the new data sunk in. “And everyone knows this but Shannon?”

“The neighbors know, the mailman knows. Unfortunately, the employees aren’t idiots and they’re just waiting for the shoe to fall. They’re upset especially since the benefits aren’t what they used to be. Everyone’s surly, and it’s only a matter of time before someone manufactures an accident so they can sue. The plant is outdated, my old man won’t upgrade ’cause he doesn’t want to refinance and get stuck. It’s a losing situation from every angle, all because no one wants to hurt Shannon’s feelings.”

“She’ll be crushed.”

“I know. We all know. It’s gonna tear her up.” Danny shook his head. “That’s where you come in.”

“What?”

Danny sat up, leaned over the table, his beer forgotten. “You and Shannon, you’ve been getting along really well. She likes you, and you’re practically family. And you’re good with hard stuff. I mean, you’re used to helping people who’ve lost everything. Believe me, she’s not going to lose anything. She’ll walk away not having to worry about money to get herself situated, figure out what she wants to do.”

“You want me to tell her?”

Danny stared at him. “Yeah. Not straight-out, not mean or anything. Maybe let her know you overheard Ma talking about Florida. About Brady’s job offers. You’re dealing with real estate right now—you could mention how much the land is worth.”

Nate felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He almost admitted that he’d already made a passing comment but that was before the other night. Before he and Shannon had… “For God’s sake, Danny.”

“It’s a hell of a lot to ask. And we all know we’re going to have to talk. As a family. But maybe you could just think about it, huh? You’d be good with her. You can kind of pave the way to the big showdown. We all need to move on, including her.”

“Man. She’s been fighting so hard for the family. For a legacy.”

“You don’t have to, buddy. We’ll come up with another idea. I don’t mean to get you caught up in our mess.”

The waitress came by with a couple more drinks and Danny flirted with her a bit, his discomfort with the topic of conversation obvious. Nate couldn’t give him an answer, not until he thought long and hard about what Danny wanted him to do. Particularly now.

“You all set, honey?”

Nate smiled at Peggy, but his heart wasn’t in it. Shannon would be devastated. It was a damn shame, too, because she was incredibly talented and would be an asset anywhere. If he thought he had a chance, he’d try to get her to come work for The International Rescue Committee. But he wouldn’t even try. Gramercy was woven into the fabric of her life and he’d never dream of taking her away. She should run for city council. She’d see to it that corner basketball courts weren’t left to rot and ruin.

But that was the long view. In the short term, discovering her family wanted a separate future more than they cared about their collective past was going to cripple her.

“Speak of the devil,” Danny said, leaning back in his seat again. “The Princess hath arrived.”

“Don’t call her that anymore. She doesn’t like it.” A wave of anger at his friend made his gut tense. It wasn’t logical. Danny was right. She was tilting at windmills. The business had been going downhill for a long time, but he hated like hell that he’d been asked to be the messenger.

She came up to the table and smiled at Nate in a way that made him want to whisk her to Bali and help her forget all about New York and family ties. “Shove over,” she said. “I’m tired, thirsty and I have really exciting news. But first, did you hear back from Aiko?”

“Not yet.” Nate moved, but not much. He wanted to be able to touch her. “What’s so exciting?”

“Who’s Aiko?” Danny asked. “You holding out on me?”

“The Realtor” was all Nate said. He’d already told Danny about the back-and-forth countering that was driving Nate nuts. Right now he wanted to know about Shannon.

She gave him a dazzling smile, then turned to search out the waitress. “Give me a minute.” She put her purse on the outside of the booth, then let her head drop forward. Her hair cascaded into a fiery pool on the tabletop, until she sat up straight again when Peggy came to take their order.

“I’ll have the chicken Caesar salad, dressing on the side.”

“Screw that,” Danny said. “I want the potpie, but first I want the calamari.”

Nate wasn’t very hungry anymore, but he still said, “I’ll have the grilled salmon, please.”

“‘Please’?” Peggy said, sounding confused. “What’s that word mean again?” Then she looked at Shannon. “Your regular?”

Shannon frowned. “Water, thanks.”

Danny’s brows went up. “What’s with all the dressing- on-the-side business? You hate that.”

“I have to look my best,” she said, then grinned like she’d just won Miss Congeniality. “Because the camera adds ten pounds.”

“TV?” Nate smiled back at her, even knowing what he knew. She looked so damn happy. “They’re doing a reality show about your life?”

She waved him away as if he’d been joking, but now that he thought about it, she’d be great at that. “I’m being interviewed by WNYC. About Easter at the park. They’ve asked me to come in on Thursday. It’ll be live, on
Local Happenings with Grant and Lisa.
”

Nate took her hand and squeezed it. “That’s terrific. What’s the station?”

“It’s not a big affiliate or anything,” she said. “A local independent that broadcasts in Manhattan and some parts of New Jersey. But everyone watches it. They talk about what’s going on in town, and sometimes they do exposés on petty local scandals and profile pieces on charities and people who are making a difference. But mostly they announce book fairs and library programs, stuff like that.”

“The Easter thing is where you raise money for the church renovations?” Danny asked.

“Nope. That’s our Christmas program. This benefits outreach programs for feeding the homeless. But in each of the gift baskets there are cards from Fitzgerald and Sons, and we’re handing out trading cards to everyone who comes to the park. Two of the food trucks are letting me put up big banners. You know I’m going to talk about the printing plant when I’m interviewed.”

“There’s not a doubt in my mind,” her brother said, then shot a glance at Nate.

Shannon glowed as she went on about her plans, and as she talked, Nate thought about what Danny had asked him to do. An interview about Easter baskets wasn’t going to save the day. In fact, it made things worse. Getting her hopes up. Putting that look in her eyes.

He didn’t want to think about it, but after the interview was over, someone was going to have to tell her that the rest of the family wasn’t on board with her plans.

It made horrible sense that it should be him. He owed the Fitzgeralds so much, and he couldn’t picture any of them breaking the news to her. Theoretically he was part of the family, for good and bad, and this was not going to be good. But he would be careful. As careful as he’d ever been in his life. He’d try and take as much of the sting away as possible.

And he sure wasn’t going to bring it up before she had her last hurrah.

* * *

“Y
OU
’
RE
TIRED
,”
HE
SAID
,
his voice low, close to her ear.

“I am,” she agreed, letting her thumb run over the back of his hand as they walked slowly in the direction of home. She should probably be concerned about someone spotting them, but she wasn’t. “It’s a good tired.”

“Probably don’t want some crazy man sneaking into your boudoir later.”

“Depends,” she said, smiling in the dark. “How much later?”

“Fifteen minutes?”

She laughed. “Is that starting now, or when we cross the threshold?”

“Fine. We’ll wait. The basketball game’s over, though. It’s past your mother’s bedtime. So it’s only your dad, right? Or will Brady be home?”

“No, he’s not there, and Dad likes to be in bed for the eleven o’clock news.”

“There you go. So, fifteen minutes after the start of the news.”

“Fine. Jeez. So impatient.”

He pulled her to a stop between streetlamps. “Damn right I’m impatient. I’ve never slept with a TV star before.”

“Well, whoever she is, you can tell her to get in line. I’ve got you booked for the night.”

He pulled her in as if they’d been dancing, her coat billowing behind her as she stepped into his arms. His kiss made an excellent day perfect. He tasted of beer, while she, being the most considerate person ever, tasted like peppermint. But she wasn’t complaining. Every kiss she got from Nate was another memory she’d store away.

There was another one, a quick brush of lips, but still sweet, three doors down, and then she was at the big red door, her key at the ready. Nate’s hand touched hers, stilling the turn. “I forgot something,” he said. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“What?”

“Condoms. I meant to—”