SEAN: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 3) (73 page)

“A painting?”

I sat back again, suddenly feeling like an idiot. I should have known it had something to do with décor. Rosie was one of those who could talk for hours about fashion and makeup and just about anything superficial. I should have known it was something on the wall that had caught her attention.

“Listen to me, Joey,” she said, leaning even further over the front seat. “This painting, I’ve seen it before.”

“It’s probably a print.”

“No, I don’t think so. But that’s not the point. The point is, I’ve seen it on that blog.
Dear Elizabeth
.”

I tilted my head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“There was a banner on the site for a long time. A rose with a dark background.”

“A banner?”

“Yeah. Across the top. It’s gone now, but it was there for the longest time. From the beginning, I think. It didn’t disappear until the stories about you and Jason started appearing. I didn’t think about it, at first. But then I saw that print on the wall and…what if it’s her, Joey?”

I shook my head, telling myself it wasn’t possible. Sara was so kind to me when we first met. She told me who to be nice to, who to take seriously, who to ignore. She helped me through that first party. Why would she then turn around and smear my name on a blog page? I mean, yeah, she seemed a little cool today. But that was because she was as shocked as I was to find out that Rosie and I were her bakers. And she has a new baby. Maybe she was exhausted.

There were so many reasons for everything, so many explanations. There was no way she could be the blogger.

But…I could still hear Jason explaining about the tattoo on his ribs, her monogram marked across his body like a possessive label. They had history. Why hadn’t either of them ever mentioned it? Was it just unimportant to them? Or was it so important that they felt the need to hide it?

I didn’t know.

“What are the chances that it’s just a coincidence?” Rosie asked.

And I had to agree. Coincidences weren’t real, were they?

Jason

“Did you talk to Joey?” I asked Shelly, as she walked into the office Friday morning.

“Everything’s set.”

I nodded, my eyes glued to the unending emails on my computer screen. My parents were due to arrive from Paris at any moment and I was stuck at the office, trying to keep up with the overload of work that revamping my entire executive staff had caused. Things were finally falling into a good rhythm, everyone adjusting to the changes we’d implemented. The opportunity to steal from the company was gone. There were so many safeguards in place that it was impossible now. I was pleased with it.

My mom was going to ask me to take over the foundation sometime in the next few days. She’d already hinted at it. A month ago, I would have been resistant to the idea. But now…I don’t know. My company was deeply important to me. But this fiasco with Frank Thomas had shown me that I can’t do everything alone, that delegating was not a bad thing. And that I missed what was right under my nose because of my need to be in complete control. Maybe it was time to back off and let the company run itself. Maybe it was time to trust someone else to take the reins.

And running the foundation would give me more time with family. That had become important over the last few months. Since Alexa’s birth, I’d been reminded of how fleeting moments with family can be. And with Joey in my life…I guess my thoughts were going in directions they hadn’t been before her.

I couldn’t wait until my parents met her. I knew they’d love her instantly.

“I’m going to head over to your house in a few minutes to let the caterers in.”

I glanced at Shelly. “Okay. Is Joey meeting you there?”

“She said she had an interview today. She can’t make it till later.”

I nodded.

Joey had been in an odd mood these last few days. She was working long hours at the bar, trying to keep up on her bills. I once again offered her a loan, but I think she was offended by it. She was polite in her refusal, but the look she shot me as the words came out of my mouth made it pretty obvious that she wasn’t pleased with me. One of these days I would figure out that she was an independent woman. It was one of the things I adored about her, yet I couldn’t help my instinct to protect her. Or maybe it was a little Neanderthal of me. I didn’t want her working so hard so that we could spend more time together. As it was, I hadn’t really spent any time with her since Sunday. I was grateful she was able to take off tonight to come to this dinner with my parents, Justin, and Sara.

The moment Shelly stepped out of my office, the phone rang. I debated letting it go, but changed my mind.

“Brooks.”

“Jason, it’s Phil Johnson.”

I turned toward the windows behind my desk and watched the world do its thing floors below me. Phil was my lawyer, the one I’d tasked with shutting down the blog that had been publishing stories about me and Joey since our relationship began. I was hoping he had some good news.

“Listen,” he said before I could say anything, “this will sound like really good news, but it’s only a temporary fix.”

“Okay.”

“We’ve convinced the blog platform, the website that publishes this particular blog, to shut the blog down based on the fact that some of its content violates their own user agreement. They’ll give the blog owner a week to respond to the allegations. If that person doesn’t, then they’ll shut it down permanently. But if she does…there’s not much we can do to keep it off line.”

“But it’s a start.”

“Yes, it’s a start.”

“Did they give you any idea who’s behind it?”

“Legally, they can’t do that. But they did confirm that it’s a woman and that she is not knowingly affiliated with any publication outside of the blog. So I don’t believe it’s a reporter trying to get at you through informal channels.”

“Then who is it?”

It was a rhetorical question, not really meant to be answered. But Phil answered anyway.

“I’d look at ex-girlfriends and jilted lovers. It reads like someone who’s jealous of your new relationship.”

“It does.”

“You know how it goes, Jason. Those you thought you could trust are the ones who are quickest to stab you in the back.”

That was quickly becoming the story of my life. I trusted Frank and look what he did to me, to my business. And now…could it be someone close to me?

Who was that?

Joey

I squatted in front of the oven and read the thermometer stuck in the center of the roast. 165. Perfect.

“Smells lovely,” I said.

Janet, the kind caterer who was very generous with my attentions, smiled warmly.

“Thank you.”

I stood again, tugging on my skirt to get it to fall back into place. My hands were shaking. I couldn’t believe I was about to meet Jason’s parents. It felt like such a bad idea, especially with everything that had been going on. What if they’d seen the blog posts that woman was posting about us? What if they knew what people were saying about us? They’d hate me on sight!

Shelly came into the room, that look of efficiency that was ever present on her face.

“Jason should be here in a few minutes.”

I just nodded. I wasn’t sure what she expected me to say, but that was clearly not it. She stared hard at me for a long moment, then turned and rushed out of the room again.

My cellphone rang. I stepped out the side door to answer it.

“How’s it going?” Rosie wanted to know.

“It’s going.”

“Have you talked to him yet? Did you tell him that
Dear Elizabeth
is probably his sister-in-law?”

“No.”

“Joey, don’t you think he should know?”

“I think it’s just a suggestion and a guess.”

But, of course, Rosie didn’t agree with that. She’d done some investigating on her own. She talked to Rahul about the person who called him, growing excited when he told her he was pretty sure the person was a woman. And then she checked through her phone’s call history because she supposedly remembered an odd phone call she got about the same time. And, sure enough, when she called it, a woman answered. But it was a woman claiming to be with some sort of collection agency, calling for information on someone Rosie had never heard of. Rosie swore it had to be a cover story made up on the spot. I thought she was reaching for straws where none existed.

We had no proof that Sara was behind the
Dear Elizabeth
blog. And I wasn’t going to go around making accusations until I had some real proof.

“You should tell him, Jo. Let him take what he wants from it.”

“I will. Just not tonight.”

“Are you worried about meeting the parents?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t you be?”

“I met Jackson’s parents like a week after we started seeing each other. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Nice to know.”

I hung up a few minutes later and turned to go back inside, but the door was locked. That seemed fitting. I taped on the glass, but everyone seemed to have disappeared in the few minutes I’d been out there. I tried the knob again, but it was no use. I stood there for a second, trying to decide if I should go around to the back or the front. Jason was due home any minute, so I walked around to the front. And there was Sara, just climbing out of a small sports car, looking perfect in a pair of skintight jeans and a cashmere sweater.

She didn’t see me. I was partially hidden by a column that stood on the very corner of the house. I was about to call out to her when Jason’s car pulled up behind hers.

“You’re too slow,” she called to him, as he opened his door.

“No. I’m just not terribly keen on getting a speeding ticket.”

“Can’t you sweet talk the officer? Or is that a talent restricted to women?”

He laughed as he climbed out of the car and reached back inside for his briefcase. “I guess I should be grateful you don’t have Alexa with you. Where is she, anyway?”

“Justin’s got her. That man would be perfectly content to spend all day with her if he could.”

“He’s a good dad.”

Sara nodded, but I don’t think her mind was on her husband. She was watching Jason walk toward her. If he could see her expression, he probably wouldn’t need me to tell him Rosie’s suspicions. However, he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring up at the house, watching the caterer’s crew carry in a table they were planning to use to set the meal out, buffet style, a plan that had been my idea. I thought it would offer a little more casual air to the whole thing. But now I was wondering if casual was a good idea.

Things sure looked casual between Jason and Sara at the moment.

“So, the girlfriend’s going to meet Mom and Dad?”

Jason paused in front of his car, his eyes moving from the table to Sara.

“Yeah.”

“I guess she’s pretty nervous.”

“She probably is. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her today.”

Sara’s eyebrows rose. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Nope. Just busy.”

She took hold of his tie and kind of tugged on it. “You need to learn how to take it easy, Mr. Brooks. Too much work makes Jason a very dull boy.”

“I’m starting to figure out that balance,” he said. “But she’s still trying to find a new job.”

“Yeah? I would have thought firing her from your company was a good idea.”

“I didn’t fire her. A misguided executive did.”

“Your company.”

“My company. Her bad idea. Joey was afraid people would think she was taking advantage of our relationship if I gave her back her job.”

“Girl has scruples. That’s interesting.”

Jason tilted his head, as though he was checking Sara out a little closer. He didn’t try to move away from her touch, and he didn’t try to put space between them. But he didn’t move closer to her either.

“Do you think tonight’s the night?”

Jason glanced over his shoulder almost as though he could sense me standing back there, watching. And then he focused on her again, tugging his tie away as he turned toward the house.

“Is Justin worried?”

“He’s perfectly content to let you take over the foundation. He thinks running Brooks Oil is more than enough for him.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about, Sara.”

She nodded. “Good luck. I hope your lovely girlfriend doesn’t embarrass you.”

“Mom and Dad will love Joey,” he said over his shoulder without even looking back at her.

Sara stood there a long moment, watching him disappear into the house. And then she abruptly turned, catching me off guard as she took a step in my direction. Our eyes met, and hers narrowed.

What was I supposed to do? I took a deep breath and walked toward her, trying to pretend that I belonged there—even though I felt incredibly inadequate at the moment. She watched my every step, and I was eternally grateful I didn’t trip, that I didn’t make a fool of myself.

“Hello, Sara,” I said with a forced smile.

“Are you the jealous type?” she asked.

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because you were spying. Were you afraid we would make out right here on the front stoop? Right in front of everyone?”

“I know where Jason’s loyalties lie, Sara.”

“That’s the problem. I do, too.”

She turned, returning to her car as if she’d forgotten what it was she’d come here for in the first place.

“What will you write about tomorrow, Sara?” I asked before I even realized I was going to say the words. “Will you write about my awkwardness around his family? About how poorly I fit into this world?”

Sara stopped, her hand on the door handle.

“Will you write about how Jason deserves someone better than me? Maybe someone more like you?”

She glanced at me, her face an unreadable mask.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do.”

Her eyes jumped to the front of the house, to the windows that hid half a dozen rooms Jason might have been standing in at that exact moment.

“I won’t tell him,” I said. “But I think you should.”

Her eyes moved back to me, something new in them. Something almost like panic. Then she brushed her hair off her shoulders and turned back to the car, wrenching the door open.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said again as she climbed inside, racing out of the driveway before I could say anything else.