Brie’s sweatshirt had sparked a basketball debate. Town loyal, Zack favored the Knicks and was doing a fine job talking trash about the Wizards. He tossed in some choice put-downs for the Celtics too, who were Brie’s old home team, adopted after she’d moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts, for college and law school. Then it had been on to Manhattan until six months ago, when she’d taken a new job in Washington, D.C.
“They’re doing fine this season,” Brie defended.
Zack scoffed. “If you call four straight losses fine.” He shifted his chair forward, careful not to dislodge Millie, who’d sought him out earlier and curled into his lap to sleep. The cat opened her eyes, tensed, then settled again after Zack rewarded her with a few reassuring strokes.
“There’ve been some injuries, and that’s slowed them down,” Brie continued.
Zack pointed a fork across the table. “What’s slowed them down is they can’t play for shit—”
“Now, now, children,” Madelyn interrupted. “Time to eat. If you keep this up, I’m the only one who’ll be having any dessert.”
They both fell silent.
Zack spoke first. “Is she always like this?”
“Sometimes she’s worse,” Brie told him.
They let Madelyn steer the conversation onto a few less contentious topics, ones in which she took some actual interest, and the meal progressed pleasantly.
They were nearly finished when Brie set down her fork, leaned back in her chair, and took a bead on Zack. “So how long have you been doing my sister?”
Madelyn’s eyes rounded. “Brie, my God.”
Zack stopped chewing, met the marble-hard expression in Brie’s eyes. He swallowed, then calmly wiped his mouth on his napkin. “I’ve been seeing your sister since the New Year.”
“Strange she hasn’t mentioned you to the family.”
“Mentioning me or not is Madelyn’s choice.”
“Then you aren’t coercing her in some way? She never used to have anything good to say about you.”
It was Zack’s turn to relax into his chair. “We’ve been business rivals. We still are. But business isn’t personal, and what I have with her is personal. Very personal. As for your other question, Madelyn’s a strong-willed woman, independent, resourceful. I don’t believe I could coerce her into doing anything she didn’t want to do.”
“No, but even strong-willed, independent, resourceful women can be manipulated now and then by the right individual. Anyone can be used given a certain set of circumstances.”
The legs of Madelyn chair screeched as she pushed away from the table. “End the cross-examination, counselor. I’m involved with Zack because I want to be. No one’s being used.”
“Then why the secrecy?” Brie persisted, eyeballing Zack.
He opened his mouth to answer.
Madelyn responded first. “Because that’s the way we want it.” She tapped a finger to her chest. “The way
I
want it. Zack and I work for the same company, in the same department, and we’ve agreed it’s best, particularly for me, if our relationship is kept quiet. He’s been considerate enough to respect my wishes on this count. I hope you will be as well.”
“Of course, Malynn,” Brie said, using the family nickname. “If that’s how you wish it.”
“It is.”
“I only want to see you happy.”
Madelyn softened. “I know, and I love you for it.” After a pause, she motioned toward Brie’s dinner plate. “You done with that?”
“Um, yes. It was wonderful.”
Madelyn took her sister’s plate, stacked it on top of her own. She turned her head to the left. “Zack?”
He twined up a last forkful of shrimp and pasta and popped it into his mouth. Chewing, he set his empty plate onto the stack, then reached out for Madelyn’s wrist before she could turn away. Food swallowed, he drew her toward him for a quick kiss, ignoring her reluctance in front of company. “Delicious,” he murmured, smiling as he released her.
Pink cheeked, Madelyn gathered the dishes and headed toward the sink.
For a long, silent moment, Zack and Brie assessed each other across the table.
“You seem like a straight-up guy despite things I’ve heard,” she told him in a voice meant for his ears only. “Nothing against you. I just don’t want her hurt.”
“I don’t either. It’s never been my intention to hurt Madelyn.”
Brie studied him another minute, then nodded. The tension between them dissipated.
From across the room, Madelyn turned, her back to the counter. “I put coffee on for you two caffeine fiends.” She lifted a pair of thin white bakery sacks into the air, one in each hand. “Cookies are for dessert. Your choice—chocolate chip or white chocolate macadamia nut.”
An hour later, Zack said his good-byes. Madelyn didn’t feel comfortable letting him stay over, not since Brie would be sleeping only a door away, tucked in for the night on the sofa bed. Without discussion, Zack understood Madelyn’s wishes and went to retrieve his coat.
To give them a moment’s privacy, Brie slipped into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.
“Sorry about this weekend,” Madelyn said, joining him at the front door. “You could come by tomorrow or Saturday. I’ll make dinner again.”
“You make great dinners, but family comes first. You need to spend the time with your sister. She didn’t come all the way up here to see me.”
She rubbed a palm over the supple leather of his jacket. “Sorry about the grilling. Brie’s not one to hold back, even if it means being rude.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “I’ve faced tougher. And I can understand her concern. I’ve got a sister. If she brought a guy like me home, I’d be rude and overly protective too.”
She smiled at the notion.
Their eyes met, lingered, a caress of blue to green.
She laid her palm against his cheek, traced the smooth skin she found there; he’d shaved his usual evening beard off especially for her. “Maybe you could come by on Sunday,” she invited. “After Brie heads home.”
His eyelids drooped heavy, his gaze lambent. “Maybe I could at that.” He tightened his hold, hard enough to flatten her breasts to his chest. “I’ll need a kiss though, a thorough one, to tide me over.”
She looped her arms up around his neck. “Then come down here and take it.”
• • •
Late Saturday evening, Madelyn and Brie returned to Madelyn’s apartment, exhausted, footsore, but satisfied, a pair of valiant warriors returning home, booty-laden after a day of glorious battle. At its most intense, Madelyn considered shopping to be an act of war, and today the Grayson sisters had taken no prisoners.
Brie flopped onto the sofa, nearly disappearing beneath the rows of bulging shopping bags draped over her arms.
Madelyn dumped her load of packages just inside the front door, then staggered over to collapse beside her sister. “Lord, I’m beat.” She kicked off her shoes and thought if she listened closely enough, she could hear the sound her toes made as they sighed in relief.
Heads back, the women luxuriated in a downy haven of plump sofa cushions and feather pillows.
“We must have walked fifty blocks,” Brie exclaimed.
“More like a hundred.”
“And I think we visited every store in the city.”
“Half of them at least.”
“Found some great stuff, though.”
“And some splendid bargains.” Madelyn closed her eyes. “All in all an excellent day.”
“Hmm.”
Paper rattled as Brie set an armful of shopping bags on the floor. “Where’s the raspberry tart?”
“Who knows? Probably squished under that lamp you bought.”
“Oh, I hope not.”
Madelyn tossed her a quizzical look. “How on earth are you going to lug that thing home anyway?”
“What? The tart?”
“No, the lamp.”
Brie shrugged. “I’ll figure something out. I always do.”
She was right, Madelyn thought. An organizational wizard, Brie had a way of working out solutions, even for seemingly impossible tasks. Still, that didn’t mean she was infallible, especially when emotions were involved. Something was troubling her. It was the third day of her visit, yet the only reason she’d given so far for her unexpected trip north was the need to see a familiar face. New to Washington, D.C., Brie was still making friends, she said. Perhaps loneliness was the only explanation necessary. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t.
“Do you honestly have room for sweets?” Madelyn laid a hand across her stomach. “I’m still recovering from dinner.”
“Chinese never sticks no matter how much of it you eat. An hour from now, you’ll be starving again. We’ll split a slice.” She surveyed the sea of shopping bags. “Assuming I can find it.”
“All right. But make my piece small.”
Madelyn got up and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on to boil. Millie wandered in, brushing her tail against the backs of Madelyn’s legs before assuming a sphinxlike pose on the multihued rag rug at the base of the sink. A quiet cat, Millie had ways of making her wishes known with a minimum of fuss. She looked up at Madelyn, meowed silently, then resumed her wait. Madelyn knew the routine; Millie wanted to eat.
Brie strolled in with a white bakery box.
Madelyn crossed to a quiet corner on the far side of the room, set down the bowl of fresh cat food. Millie padded over to enjoy the offering.
Wisps of steam began to curl from the kettle. “Is tea all right?” Madelyn asked.
“So long as it isn’t herbal.” Brie rinsed her hands, then got out plates and a knife to cut the tart.
Madelyn measured loose tea leaves into a celery green ceramic pot. “You haven’t really said all that much about your new job. Are you glad you took it?”
Brie paused, considered. “At first I wasn’t sure. Lawyering for the government’s a lot different from private practice. But now that I’ve settled in, yes, I do like it. I’m working on a really compelling fraud case. When it’s over I’ll give you the highlights. Lord knows, I don’t miss staying up until four in the morning writing briefs or scrambling for every billable hour I can find. And it’s nice to have more than Christmas day at home.”
“Still, you seemed to love it at Mitchell, Brown, and Lovell. From all appearances you were on the fast track to making partner. You never would tell any of us in the family why you left the city so suddenly.”
Brie went still, the knife poised over the delicate confection. A second later, she made her cut, careful and precise. “It was time to move on.”
Madelyn snapped off the range burner and lifted the wailing kettle, a thick plume of steam billowing forth. She poured boiling water over the tea leaves, returned the kettle to the stove, and set the lid on the teapot with a tiny clink. “What happened, Brie?”
“I needed a change. Look, I’d rather not talk about it.” Brie carried their dessert to the table, planted herself on one of the chairs.
“If you didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t be here. Enough now. Out with it.”
A long hush fell.
“She had a baby,” Brie murmured.
“Who had a baby?”
“Stephen Jeffries’s wife. A boy, last Tuesday. Connie called to chat, to catch me up on things that have been going on at MB and L since I left, and she mentioned it in passing.”
Madelyn took the chair across from her. “He’s one of the other attorneys there, isn’t he?”
“Yes. And the newest partner.”
“And?” she prompted.
Brie looked up, eyes bright with unshed tears. “And I’m a fool, a stupid fool who let herself be used, manipulated, deceived. I knew it was wrong, what we were doing, but I loved him, and love justifies almost anything, or so it seemed.”
She gave a hollow laugh. “I thought he’d come after me once I left. I figured if I took a job in a new city, it would finally push him to divorce her, the way he’d always promised me he would. I still have friends at the firm. I know I could talk my way back in, even now. Then I heard about . . . his son.” She choked over the last word.
“I still thought he’d show up one day,” Brie went on, “catch me as I was leaving for work or for home. When he did, he’d be a free man, divorce decree in one hand and an engagement ring in the other. That’s when he’d propose, beg me to come back with him where I belong.”
She paused, swallowing hard. “But he lied; until the very last he lied. Hah, until I actually loaded the last box in my car and drove away, he was pleading with me to stay, to give him a little while longer. And she was already pregnant.”
Brie mashed a fist against her forehead. “I fell for all the lines. How he hated his wife. How cold she was. How he couldn’t bear to touch her. How they hadn’t been intimate for years and kept separate bedrooms. He stayed with her, he said, for the children’s sake, for appearances. When I heard about the baby, I nearly fell apart. I had to get away. I couldn’t bear to be by myself, so I came to see you.”
“I’m glad you did.”
Brie met Madelyn’s eyes. “I can see I’ve shocked you. Your little sister involved with a married man. How could it happen? How could I do such a stupid, immoral thing? I’ve asked myself the same things a hundred times and I still don’t know. In the beginning, I believed he was divorced. Then after we’d become . . . involved, he told me he was only separated. He wanted a divorce, he said, but . . . well, you can figure out the rest.”
“Brie.” Madelyn didn’t know what to say.
“He never loved me, Madelyn. Out of all of it, I think that’s the worst. It was just a cheap thrill for him, nothing but a meaningless game.”
“Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe he did love you, does love you in his own small way, and he’s just a coward.”
“No. He’s a liar and a cheat, a despicable bastard who hides behind a handsome smile and a clever tongue. Three years I gave him, three years. And now I know the truth, that he was sleeping with his wife when he told me I was the only one. I wonder who else he was with. I wonder if he cheated on me too. Oh God, how could I ever have done such a thing? How could I let myself love him?”
Madelyn reached out a hand. “Don’t torture yourself. You don’t choose love; it chooses you. You made a mistake, but you’re out of it now. You left him, remember, on your own terms.”
“And tossed aside my career, my reputation, my pride, in the process.”
“You still have all those things; they’re only a bit bruised. Oh, sweetie, I hate to see you hurting like this.”