I was grinning when I boarded my flight. Everything was going great because:
(a) Red and I had made love.
(b) I was able to snag another flight just an hour after my original flight was scheduled to leave.
(c) Red and I had made love.
(d) Red and I had made love.
Of course, it’s because of a, c, and d that I missed my flight, but I’d miss ten thousand flights if it meant I could have her again.
I texted her as soon as I landed.
Regina International Airport was small but sleek and modern, with its steel beams, high, impressive skylights, and glass windows that welcomed the rich sunlight.
I hated huge airports because I always got lost in them. They seemed to have too many entrances and exits, and too many people. If I wanted to sign up for a tour of the Matrix, I’d go find Neo and the Key Maker.
Strolling through the crowd, I spotted a Subway, a Tim Hortons, and a kiosk with a tiny white bear wearing a red Royal Canadian Mounted Police uniform on display.
I thought of Red right away. She liked cute things like that.
So I bought it.
As soon as I stepped outside, the heat and humidity hit me like a punch in the face. Red had booked a limo for me in advance, and I was more than happy to get into the air-conditioned vehicle.
“Miranda Inn, please,” I informed the driver.
I was just settling in, taking in the sights, when my phone burped a text. It was Ben telling me to meet him in the hotel lounge so we could have drinks and catch up before we talked business.
Miranda Inn’s success was due to my grandfather’s inherent knack for business—and luck. He had won the first hotel in a poker game, acquired all the rights and filed all legalities, changed the hotel name to his daughter’s, and in less than five years had expanded it into a chain countrywide. When he passed away, my mother inherited the business and took it international.
I got out of the cab and entered the hotel. I observed its muted colors and tasteful modern furnishings as I wandered inside, silently approving of the classy marble fountain in the middle of the lobby—though wouldn’t it be cool to have a life-size T. Rex skeleton instead?
My mom would probably sell me before she’d put dead dinosaur bones in her hotel. She had a spare son anyway.
I found myself grinning when I spotted Ben in the lounge, sitting on the window seat overlooking the beautiful manicured gardens.
Almost a year had passed since Ben and I had seen each other. He’d been more than a brother to me as a child; he’d also been a best friend and a father to me when ours left.
Dressed in a charcoal suit, he looked very sophisticated—if you didn’t count the dark blond hair that fell loose just above his shoulders, giving an impression of wildness. Even as a kid, he’d always been both a little proper and a little wild.
People always remarked how we didn’t look like brothers. He had our dad’s strong, masculine looks, while I’d inherited our mom’s softer features. He had a rakish face. Confident and intelligent gray eyes that could charm a woman or silence a grown man with just one look. A strong nose, a square jaw.
I had punched that jaw many times when we were kids, about as many times as he’d punched mine. He was the one who’d taught me how to fight.
He must have felt my presence because his eyes abruptly shifted to mine. And then he grinned.
“Look at that face,” he greeted, rising from his seat and wrapping me in a fierce hug. “Still butt-ugly.”
“Goddamn. I missed you.”
“Don’t cry now. People will think I broke up with you,” he said, but he only hugged me tighter. “Sit your ass down and tell me what you’ve been up to.” He signaled for service as we took our seats.
“What’s with the hippie hair?” I teased.
“Ah. Gives me an exotic look.” He smoothed his dark-blue tie. “Women love it.”
I scoffed. “Women just like you for your money.”
He chuckled, then smiled at the girl who placed a cup of coffee in front of him and a glass of orange juice in front of me. He thanked her, and she blushed. “We’ll have dinner in fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, Mr. Lockhart,” she said.
“I ordered for us already,” Ben explained as the server walked away. “So, a college graduate.” I watched as he poured cream in his coffee, stirring it with a silver spoon. “You’re all grown up and ready to take over the world.”
“Let’s start with one hotel. I heard you have a job for me.”
“If you want it. Mom wants you to supervise this hotel. It needs a lot more attention than the others.” He paused, sipped his coffee. “But you’d have to relocate here.”
“I’d rather stick to home,” I replied instantly.
I wasn’t budging. Red needed to finish one more year of school.
Ben raised his brows.
“For a year or two. At least,” I added.
He straightened in his seat, crossing his legs. “Mom won’t be pleased.”
I shrugged. I hated disappointing my mom, but this was nonnegotiable for me. “I’ll tell her myself.”
“You got a girl?”
“Yeah.” I grinned. “Yeah, I’ve got a girl.”
“There are two types of women in a man’s life,” he started, his gray eyes twinkling. “First type: Damn, she’s hot. I want to bang her.”
“And the second?” I asked.
“Damn, she’s hot. I want to bang her.”
I laughed and then thought of Red’s dark eyes, the way they laughed in delight or blazed in anger or determination. I felt my heart trip. “Nah. She’s more the ‘Damn, she’s perfect. I want to marry her’ type.”
He nodded, picked up his coffee cup, and drank again.
“I already proposed,” I blurted out.
Ben choked, placing his cup back on the saucer as he cleared his throat. “What?”
I grinned at him. “Several days ago.”
“Goddamn, you horny bastard. Is she pregnant?”
I thought about that heated, wild moment with Red when I didn’t use a condom. Had it just been a few hours ago?
I’d never been so careless. I’d never not worn one when I needed it.
“Today she might be. But I hope not, because she’s going to be absolutely pissed at me. Although I wouldn’t mind if she is…pregnant, I mean.”
A picture of a little girl with dark hair and gleaming cat eyes flitted into my mind. And then a little boy with the same features. No, I thought, I wouldn’t mind at all.
“What did you do to my brother, and where did you put his carcass?” Ben asked, looking confused and shocked.
I laughed. I couldn’t blame him. I was a very different person before Red came into my life.
“You’ll meet Red—Veronica,” I corrected, “on Sunday. I’m surprised Mom hasn’t told you.”
“I’ve been busy. I took over Mom’s meetings in Europe this month. I came back from Paris a week ago, actually. The last time I spoke with Mom, she told me Beatrice-Rose had come to visit her at home to speak about you.”
I let out an expletive. “You mean she bad-mouthed my fiancée to Mom.”
I could feel the anger trapped in my hands as they turned into fists. I had never hit a girl in my entire life, and I wasn’t about to start now, but the thought of Beatrice-Rose spreading lies about Red made me want to hit something.
Why wouldn’t she leave Red alone? I could put up with Beatrice-Rose making trouble for me, but I would not tolerate her making trouble for my girl.
Ben narrowed his eyes. “Why would she bad-mouth your fiancée?”
A dull ache started to throb at the base of my neck—the threat of a headache coming on. I cupped my neck with my palm and tried to massage it out.
“Is your fiancée a terrorist, a dog thief, or a stripper?” Ben teased.
It was supposed to be a joke, but it only fueled my anger, reminding me of the poster Justin had put up in the basketball team’s locker room. Lucky for him, we hadn’t found one anywhere else.
The dull ache climbed up to my temples.
“I was joking, Cal. Calm the hell down.”
I realized I was gripping my glass hard enough to crack it. I loosened my grip and took a deep, calming breath. “Sorry. It’s not you. Beatrice-Rose has fucked with my life in more ways than I care to count.”
“Explain it to me.”
Usually he would have known this by now because I always told him everything, but all these things had happened so fast and we’d both been busy. So I told Ben everything. He listened without interrupting, but I noted that his gray eyes flashed with incredulity when I spoke about what had happened in Beatrice-Rose’s house and why Red had left me. They darkened with anger when I told him about Justin putting up that infuriating poster of Red in the basketball team’s locker room. And finally, they conveyed cool, deadly calm when I told him about the drugs that were planted in my car.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the server walk toward us, but Ben held his finger up, signaling her not to interrupt. She nodded and left.
When I finished, I reached for my drink. Even though Red and I were back together, recalling the time we were separated brought an ache to my chest.
“So you hired a PI?”
I nodded. I knew Ben was going to ask about that first. He had protected me since we were kids.
“Is the PI any good?” he asked.
“Uncle Harry recommended him.”
Ben nodded, satisfied. Uncle Harry was a retired private investigator and an old friend of our grandfather.
“Keep me updated,” Ben said.
“I will. What is it?” I asked.
Ben had propped his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together and resting them on his lips. His sharp gray eyes narrowed in thought.
“If you’d told me Beatrice-Rose was capable of this three weeks ago, I would have been skeptical and very likely stunned.”
“What do you mean?”
Ben took a deep breath, his eyes looking solemn. “I know how much she loves you. Remember, I watched the two of you grow up. I’m not defending her,” he hurried to say before I could interrupt and say I didn’t give a rat’s ass.
Beatrice-Rose’s love was poison. If you could even call it love.
“I’m just trying to make sense of the situation,” Ben explained.
I nodded. Ben always analyzed a situation from all angles. That was what made him an astute businessman and a good brother. When I was an angry teenager, he’d told me that when you were too close to the situation, it was hard to see the big picture, and that had always stayed with me.
“I told you I was in Paris for business—about three weeks ago. I ran into Beatrice-Rose outside the restaurant I was just leaving after my meeting.”
I frowned. Beatrice-Rose was in Paris? Three weeks ago…
“When I saw her that day, I could tell she wasn’t well. She was walking by herself, looking lost.”
Three weeks ago, so were Red and I. “I don’t care—”
“Cal, listen to me.” The grim tone in his voice caught my attention. “She looked ill, like she’d been suffering from a cold for a month. She was pale, withdrawn, and thinner than I’ve ever seen her. So I took her to dinner. It was…disturbing.”
Ben leaned back in his seat, his eyes bleak. “There was a manic quality to her. She’d be perfectly polite and calm for ten minutes, and then she’d scratch her arms until they bled. She kept muttering about her dad and her bunny rabbit. Then out of the blue, she’d be calm again. So I told her I’d take her to the hospital. She must have realized I wasn’t going to let her go because she told me she was already staying in a clinic.”
“A clinic?” I asked, perplexed.
Ben turned his head to look outside for a moment, as if contemplating something, before he shifted his serious gray eyes back to mine.
“It was a mental facility, Cal.”
“What?” I could only stare at him, shocked.
“I couldn’t believe it either. She told me she’s been getting therapy there for years. It started when her dad got sick. She had been doing better, but when she went back this time, she’d gotten worse.”
God. I had no idea.
That was around the time Red and I broke up, and that was also when I had scorned Beatrice-Rose. She must have checked herself into the clinic after that.
Guilt churned in my stomach, making me feel sick. I knew Beatrice-Rose wasn’t dealing well with her dad’s condition, but had I pushed her to the brink?
“That was when…Red and I broke up. I talked to Beatrice-Rose and told her to stay away from me. I was really angry. I said a lot of harsh words to her.”
Ben studied me for a moment. “It’s not your fault.”
Maybe not. But I had added to it.
I stared at my hands, balling them into fists. “Maybe she wasn’t faking her panic attacks.”
“Maybe she was, maybe she wasn’t,” he said. I looked up into his gray eyes and saw sympathy there. “You can’t blame yourself for reacting that way after the stunt she pulled. Were you supposed to just let it go? You’re not stupid, Brother. If a person tried to stab you, would you just stand there and take it? There’s something wrong with her,” he continued. “But it doesn’t exempt her from the consequences of her actions. She needs to be back at the clinic.”
“She’s home now,” I informed him.
“I know. Sometimes it’s best to step back and let other people help her. She’s not your responsibility.”
“She was my friend,” I said.
Ben nodded. “Yeah. All we can do is be there for her when she’s ready to accept help. But you need to learn to step back when she’s out to destroy her life and wants to take you down with her. Let the doctors and professionals who are more equipped to deal with her condition help her. That’s who she needs now.” He raised his brows. “We good?”
I let out a relieved breath. “Yeah, good.”
The server arrived with our food. I wasn’t hungry, but since it was there, I picked up my burger and took a bite, eyeing Ben’s steak. “You’re such a cheap date. How come you just got me a burger and fries?”
“You always get a burger and fries,” he reasoned.
“Yeah, but I want a steak this time.”
“You want a steak because I have a steak.”
He was right. It was out of principle, really. When we were kids, if he had a new toy, I had to have the same thing. If he wore a Batman shirt, I wore a Batman shirt too.
“Switch,” I demanded.
“What are you, seven?”
“Twenty-three in less than two days.”
I rose to swap our plates, but he grabbed his plate before I could reach for it.
“It’s my birthday,” I reminded him.
He gave me a bored look. “You exhausted your birthday excuses a long time ago.”
In the spirit of brotherhood, Ben pulled a coin from his pocket. “Flip you for it. Heads, I get the big slab of dead cow. Tails, you choke down your burger and fries. And you’re paying for beer later,” he added.
“You got it.”
He flipped it, and our gazes remained fixed on the coin. It landed on the table between us. When Ben looked up at me, his smile was smug.
I sneered. “Ass.”
He shrugged, still sporting a cocky grin. “Where’s my beer?”
