She licked her lips. “I have to work.”
“Tonight . . . for dinner.”
“Can’t. Dinner meeting with a client.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Tomorrow?”
She gripped his hands tighter. “I have a late appointment. But maybe.”
“Seven?”
Her eyes narrowed.
He rubbed himself with her hand again.
She smiled. “Fine. My place, but you can’t stay the night. I have an early flight to New York.”
“You just got home.”
“Can’t be helped. Trina needs me.”
Yep, yep . . . more to the Trina story.
“Okay. I’ll leave by midnight.”
“Eleven.”
Was this a negotiation?
“Eleven thirty, and I’ll bring wine.”
She smiled. “Deal.”
Chapter Sixteen
Lori counted the hours until her date with Reed.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t a date so much as a prescheduled booty call. But hey, she bought a few things to go with the wine he was bringing, so it could double as an actual dinner date.
With her hands loaded with bags from the store, Lori exited the elevator to her condo and fished her keys out of her purse.
She fiddled with the door twice before managing to unlock the thing. Two steps inside she heard someone in her kitchen.
Her first thought was Reed . . . not that he could have gotten in or that they’d gotten to the point where he would just appear without invitation.
Lori hesitated when she saw Avery ducking into her wine fridge.
“You don’t have chardonnay.”
She dropped her bags on the counter.
“Ah, hello, Avery.”
“You don’t like white? I can do red, if that’s all you have.”
Lori dropped her purse, looked at the clock on the wall.
“There are a few pinot grigios in there.”
Avery ducked back in, pulled out a white. She moved to a drawer, pulled it open . . . didn’t find what she wanted and moved to another. After obtaining a corkscrew, she found two glasses and continued opening the bottle. “You’re home kinda late.”
“Business meeting.” She looked at the clock. And a date.
“Hope you don’t mind me letting myself in. I begged the concierge to let me in and they agreed. They know you and I are traveling together. I was pacing the walls upstairs.”
“Uhm—”
“I was talking to Trina earlier today. She’s bouncing off the walls, too.”
“It’s called jet lag.”
Avery laughed, popped the cork. “Postvacation . . . postmarriage . . . prechapter in what the hell do we do next. That’s what it’s called.”
Lori knew Avery moving into a condo in the same building was probably a bad idea.
“Uhm . . . Avery . . .”
“Did you want white? I can open a red if you’d like.”
“I’m good with white,” Lori found herself saying. How the hell was she going to get Avery out of there before Reed showed up? He was due in less than a half an hour.
“Did Trina tell you what the security guards found in her house?”
“She didn’t call me about anything.”
“That’s surprising.”
“I’m flying to New York in the morning. What did they find?”
“Bugs.”
The first thing Lori thought of was an insect. Then her mind shifted. “You mean spy crap?”
“Yeah. They didn’t think it was there long, but they found several all over the house.”
“Holy cow.” Lori fished her cell out of her pocket and sent a quick text to Sam.
Do you know what is going on with the bugs in Trina’s house?
“Explains why she’s bouncing off the walls. My question is why would someone be spying on Trina? I don’t get it.”
“She’s worth a lot of money.”
“She’s also squeaky-clean, a virtual saint compared to me.”
Lori didn’t argue.
Her phone buzzed.
No details, just that Neil’s guys found them. You’re leaving tomorrow, right?
Avery poured the wine.
Yes.
Let me know what you find out.
Lori sipped the wine, put her phone down.
“Was Fedor in trouble with the law or anything?” Avery asked.
Lori shook her head. “No. Nothing like that.” Her eyes settled on the bags containing the groceries she’d bought for her date.
Shit . . . her date.
Six forty-five.
“I wonder if we’ll ever hear from the cruise line about Rogelio and Miguel.”
“I somehow doubt it will be anything we want to hear.”
“Still can’t believe I fell for that. What is wrong with me that I’m so ready to fall like that?”
Lori felt like she’d been answering this question for the better part of two weeks.
“He was the schmuck, not you. You had your guard down. On vacation in the sun halfway across the world. He’d obviously done this before.”
“I’m such an asshole.” Avery sucked down half her glass right as the bell at Lori’s door rang.
“Uhm . . .”
“Who could that be? It’s kinda late.”
“Well—”
Avery stared for a second before her eyes opened wider. “Wait . . . did you have something going on?”
“Kinda.”
Lori looked in her hallway mirror, rolled her eyes at the day-old appearance that stared back at her.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Avery called from the kitchen.
Lori smoothed a hand down her skirt and opened the door.
Her jaw dropped. “Danny? What are you—”
“Oh, hello . . . who are you?” Avery asked from behind Lori.
Danny’s devilish smile and charm swept over Avery before settling on her. “Hey, sis.”
Danny had a bag slung over his shoulder as he passed through her threshold. “Did I know you were coming?”
“We talked about late summer.”
Yeah, last Christmas. Not a word since.
“Uhm . . .”
Danny pushed past her, dropped his bag in her foyer, and extended a hand to Avery with a flirty smile. “I’m Lori’s much younger brother.”
“I’m Avery.” Avery’s voice dropped an octave, as if she were in a smoky bar, sizing up a man offering to buy her a drink. She turned to Lori. “Did I know you had a brother?”
“No.”
“And here I thought you had a date.”
Lori ducked around the corner, past the two who were saying way too much with their eyes, to see the clock. “I do have a date.”
“Do you live with my sister?” Danny asked, completely ignoring Lori.
“No. I have my own place upstairs.”
“It’s nice to have neighbors.”
Lori closed her eyes. “This is sooo not going to happen!” She put a hand between her brother and her client and waved them apart as if that was possible.
“You always were so bossy, sis.” Danny leaned in and kissed Lori’s cheek. “How is that death job you have? Shuffling papers and making calls?”
She wanted to call her brother out on his lack of job but held her comments back.
“C’mon in, Danny. We just opened a bottle of wine.”
Lori squeezed her hands tight. How had her quiet naked night with Reed become so crowded?
She started to follow the others when there was a knock on her door.
Reed stood with a jacket and a bottle of red wine.
“Who’s that?” Avery called from the kitchen.
Reed’s smile dropped.
Lori shook her head and pulled him inside. She lifted both hands in the air. “I’m sorry in advance.”
“You have company?”
“I didn’t—”
Avery walked around the corner. “Reed? I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Lori shook her head. “I told you I had plans.”
“Oh, well.” Avery took the wine from Reed’s hand. “Let me open this for you.”
Lori wanted to crawl in a corner and hide.
Reed peeked around the corner. “Are we having a party?”
She moved close and whispered, “I came in and Avery was making herself at home . . . then my brother showed up unannounced.”
He tilted his head. “Your brother is here?”
“Should we Uber in some food?” Avery asked from the kitchen.
Lori stepped close to Reed and rested her forehead on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
The strength of his arms circled her back. “Don’t be.”
“. . . and then Lori stood up, grabbed the largest knife on the table, and proceeded to hack the turkey right down the middle. She grabbed her plate once she’d managed to butcher the poor, dead bird, shoved as much of it as she could on one tiny plate, and then damn near threw it at Uncle Joe and said, ‘There ya go, half for you, half for Dad, carve the damn thing the way you want!’”
Lori buried her head in her hands. “It wasn’t one of my finer moments.”
Danny talked around the forkful of food he’d just shoved into his mouth. “The best part—”
“Oh, God.”
Danny ignored his sister and kept going.
“. . . was when she pulled off one of the turkey legs with her bare hand, waved it in the air, and told the men to grow up before stomping out of the dining room.”
Reed tried to picture her waving poultry at her arguing family.
“There hasn’t been a holiday dinner since where Lori doesn’t have a turkey leg on her plate.”
The red in Lori’s face was priceless. “I don’t even like dark meat.”
Danny shoved his sister’s shoulder with his. “Serious props. Uncle Joe and Dad never bitch about who does a better job at carving a turkey anymore.”
“They were being ridiculous.”