ON AN EXHALE as I leave the elevator, I whisper to myself, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
No one is waiting for me outside.
No one is going to leap on me.
No one is targeting me.
Doesn’t stop me from tucking my tote bag from Trader Joe’s closer to my side. It’s a sucky bookbag replacement that’ll have to suffice until I have time to order one online. It contains a card wallet and phone, both borrowed from Liam, inside it.
“You got this, Gracie Bukowski.”
“Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness.”
The voice is unexpected because in all the times I’ve come and gone in this lobby, I’ve literally only ever seen the doormen.
My head whips around to find the owner of that voice and I discover a woman sitting on one of the swanky armchairs that are usually empty. She’s dressed in Chanel, her makeup is pristine, and she’s so perfectly perfect that it’s nauseating. Well, aside from the fact she has a baby attached to her boob.
I’d never have imagined that a woman like this would breastfeed, especially not in public, which I know is so judgmental but, sue me, it’s my mind and I keep my thoughts to myself.
“Do I know you?” I ask warily, mostly because she’s looking straight at me and hasn’t looked away since.
“My name’s Jennifer Valentini.”
A whisper of unease forms in my heart and starts to coalesce as the baby gurgles. That’s when I see another snoozing happily in her stroller.
Two kids.
God, this is a Jerry Springer show in the making.
Gulping down my anxiety, recognizing how badly I want things with Liam to work out, I rasp, “If you have a paternity claim, you can serve the man yourself.”
Okay, that’s even bitchier.
If Liam did father two children, and if the bastard did lie to me about not having sex for three years when both kids are under four, I’ll castrate him and help her sue him for every cent of alimony she’s owed.
Jennifer Valentini lets loose a laugh. “Even in the South, that’d be illegal.”
I frown. “Excuse me? Look, I don’t have time for this. I need to get to class.”
“Class?” She tilts her head to the side, that perfect face and the perfect makeup not even cracking with her confusion. “I thought you were Liam’s PA.”
“EA,” I correct with a sniff, giving myself the promotion in name only without asking him. Girlfriend privileges (also a promotion) aren’t nepotistic when faced with a potential ex. “And though it’s none of your business, I’m studying for my MBA.”
“Cool.”
Her gaze drifts over me, and I can feel her analyzing my outfit, my makeup or lack thereof, and my hair. I’ve experienced the ‘scan’ too many times to mistake it, and it never fails to annoy the fuck out of me even if I did just grace her with the same treatment.
Man, I’m such a hypocrite this morning.
“I’m Liam’s half-sister.”
My brows lift. “Excuse me?”
I did not just hear… She did not say—
“Liam and I are related. Padraig Donnghal is our father.”
Mouth rounding, no longer caring that I don’t have time for this conversation, I shuffle toward the seating area she’s using and plunk myself in the armchair opposite her.
“You’re Liam’s sister?”
“Half-sister, but, yes.” She tips up her chin. “My husband reminded me that blood is thicker than water so that’s why I’m here.”
“Because blood is thicker than water,” I repeat, my confusion at an all-time high.
“In his words, ‘The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.’ Know-it-all.” She huffs. “And I lost a bet.”
Amusement filters through me. “You bet with your husband?”
“Only over important matters.”
“Like family?”
She clears her throat. “Yes. Which Liam is. I learned about him years ago. It’s time I did something about it because I think Saverina and Bella should know their uncle if he’d like to know them in return.”
I whistle. “You’re going to give Liam a heart attack.”
“I am?”
“Uh-huh.”
I peer at the kid still breastfeeding without a care in the world and the one sleeping in her stroller. I know kids and I know these were born close together. Still, if I were Mr. Valentini, I’d lock Jennifer in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant, too.
Oh, Paddy. What fine genes you have…
“Liam’s great with kids, though,” I inform her, aware that I was staring so long it was getting strange. “They’ll have him twisted around their fingers before you know it.”
Her grin is sheepish. “That’s good to know. I wasn’t sure how else to get in touch, to be honest. I could have gone through the Stars, but I thought that was too formal.”
Through the Stars? If the Chanel outfit didn’t give the game away, that did.
Even as I’m wondering precisely who her husband is, I ask, “You just thought you’d camp out in the lobby of his building? How did you even get in?”
“My best friend lives here,” is her droll retort. “I’m multitasking—we’re going shopping today.”
I study her for a second. “Who exactly were you waiting for?”
Jennifer doesn’t pretend to misunderstand me. “You.”
“Not Liam?” I pepper.
“No. You’re a first step.”
“You want me to smooth the path for you?”
“For us both.” Her gaze drops to my throat. “I think that would be wise considering how close you are to him.”
I know I’ve got a hickey, but I don’t bother hiding it. I quite liked seeing it this morning and if I’m not going to use concealer on the zit at the side of my nose, then I’m not going to waste my time trying to conceal the unconcealable.
Though if I had her mad skillz with makeup, I might try…
Considering her a moment, I muse, “I make no promises.”
She smiles. “I expect none. Just a… gentle introduction. I know what he went through with the kidnapping. I have no desire to cause him any distress.”
“What do you know about the kidnapping?” I demand, immediately curious.
She studies the still-suckling baby. “More than I’d like. My husband helped Liam’s—” She sighs, corrects, “Our family free him.”
Intently, I lean forward. “I thought the cops freed him.”
“Unlikely.” She harrumphs. “But I shouldn’t be talking about this. It’s not my place.”
My lips purse as I think about the nightmare Liam experienced last night. “He still wakes up screaming.”
“I can understand why. They kept him like an animal. And what they did to him…” She shakes herself then repeats, “I shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“How about we come to an agreement? I’ll soften him up for you if you tell me what you know.”
Her brow furrows. “Is that fair?”
“I don’t particularly care if it is or not.” Since Paddy told me that he was related to the Irish Mob, I’ve had the feeling that Liam’s kidnapping was mafia-adjacent, no matter that Liam said it wasn’t. This woman has answers—answers that might unlock his nightmares and help him move on. “Do we have a deal?”
“What I know wasn’t obtained by legal means. I won’t endanger my family by sharing anything with you.”
“Did you hurt Liam?”
“No!”
“Then you have nothing to fear from me. I want to help him, not make things worse.”
Her jaw works. “I’ll think about it.”
My alarm starts bleating, breaking up our conversation. “Shit.” I scrabble to switch it off. “I have to go. My class is in a half hour. Do you want to give me your number?”
Like she was waiting for the offer, she slips an expensive vellum business card out of nowhere and passes it to me. “I hope to hear from you, Ms. Bukowski.”
At her use of my name, a thought occurs to me. “How do you know my name and where Liam lives?”
Her smile is quick. “It pays to know people in the right places.”
Annoyed by the nonanswer, wondering if everyone in Liam’s family isn’t on the regular side of the law, I’m prevented from bitching at her when my second alarm goes off.
“The name’s Gracie.” With a huff, I get to my feet. “I’ll be in touch.”
“I’m Jennifer. And I’ll look forward to it,” Jennifer says warmly, cupping the back of the baby’s head and nuzzling her nose against her daughter’s cheek.
The image sticks with me as I rush out of the building and, horrifically late now, start to hail a cab as grabbing the subway is no longer an option.
Until a car swerves beside me.
Forcing myself not to panic, I realize it’s one of Liam’s bodyguards—Ludvig—who opens the passenger door from the driver’s seat.
“What do you want?” I demand.
“I’ll be driving you to NYU from now on, Ms. Bukowski,” he says like the robot he is.
I don’t have to wonder on whose orders…
A shaky breath escapes me but I can’t deny, I’m relieved.
Without any argument, I jump into the passenger seat and Ludvig sets off into the busy Midtown traffic.
Snagging my phone, I text:
Me: You could have warned me.
Liam: About?
Me: That Ludvig was going to take me to school.
Liam: I didn’t know it would be him.
Me: But you knew there’d be a bodyguard waiting for me?
Liam: Of course. You’ll have one on you at all times.
Me: That’s too much.
Liam: No. It isn’t.
Me: It is! I don’t need a twenty-four-hour babysitter. I’m not even famous lol. But a ride to school and from work would be nice, especially when Hudson’s busy with you.
I feel like a teenager for sending immediately after:
Me: <3
Liam: We can talk about this later.
Me: NO. We won’t. I don’t need a bodyguard, Liam.
Liam: Last night says otherwise.
Me: It’s too much. Far too much.
Liam: Not enough IMO.
Me: Liam. Please? I appreciate it. But not 24/7.
Liam: It’ll make me feel better.
Me: And it’ll make me feel worse. Listen to me.
Liam: :-/
Liam: 12 hours a day?
Me: 8.
Liam: 10. Final offer.
Me: Deal. Speak later.
Liam: Fine. I’ll introduce you to the other guy—his name’s Harvey. 🙁 <3
Me: Cool xo
With that settled and a stupid warmth filling me from the <3 he sent, I take a deep breath, feeling relieved but, also, heard.
Liam: Done.
Ludvig’s cell pings and from my seat, I can see his security detail has changed from guarding me and reverted to shadowing Liam.
He listened, all while acting to protect me without me having to ask.
Is he… perfect?
“Stop jinxing this,” I mutter to myself as I input Jennifer’s information into my contacts.
“Excuse me, Ms. Bukowski, did you say something?”
I wave a hand at Ludvig, who returns his attention to the traffic.
On the otherwise silent ride to my class, I think about our text conversation as well as that meeting with Jennifer while I try to calculate the probability of her intentions being negative toward Liam… I also throw in the fact that she might have answers that Liam isn’t willing to give me.
I’ve always been too curious for my own good, and a mystery sister who knows more about Liam’s kidnapping is a puzzle I have to solve.
Whether Liam wants me to or not.
Of course, that’s when I get my notification from Cameo.
Any and all thoughts blur when I realize Liam got me a private note from Simple fucking Plan.
This.
Man.
My God.
