Page 62 of You Complicate Me

Nick blinked down at her, pretty sure that was the most he’d ever heard her say, and there hadn’t been a single racist or sexist comment in the whole speech. “Well, thank you, Ruthie. That was…inspiring.” Kind of. “When I see Grace next, I’ll try to be more like you. I’ll tell her how I feel.”

Ruthie looked him up and down, and apparently decided she didn’t like what she saw, because her face pinched up like she’d just taken a giant swig of vinegar. “I don’t know why I bother. I’m sure you’ll screw it all up somehow. The pretty ones are always so, so dumb,” she muttered.

Nick manfully stifled a shriek when she wheeled her chair right over his toes. He forced himself to stand up straight and not hop up and down on his good foot to avoid putting weight on the one she’d just crushed when she glanced back at him over her shoulder.

“You know,” she began conversationally, “I do a lot of reading in my spare time. I ran out of Grisham and Koontz books one time years ago, so I started reading all of Gage’s journals and texts from med school. It’s a little scary how easy it is to cause an otherwise healthy man to have a massive heart attack.” Her gaze sharpened to the point that Nick could practically feel it pricking his skin. Then she added, “I just thought you’d find that interesting.”

Wait…what?

Nick was pretty sure he looked like a confused puppy as he tipped his head to one side and stared down at her. “Are you saying…”

“I’m saying that Grace is one of mine. I take care of what’s mine. Do right by her, and tread lightly, Irish. Don’t make me hurt you.”

And with an evil cackle the likes of which Nick hadn’t heard since he’d watched The Wizard of Oz with Sadie when they were just kids, Ruthie was gone.

His mind was spinning like a drunk on a Tilt-a-Whirl. So, so many questions, so few answers.

What was going on with his sister? How was he going to find the words to tell Grace he loved her? What was Grace feeling? Was she really over her divorce? Was it possible that she could love him, too?

Did Ruthie kill Earl?

All he knew for sure was that he didn’t have to worry about complicating his life anymore. Surely this was as complicated as it was going to get.

Right?

Chapter Thirty-three

Sadie stood in a puddle of buttery sunlight in front of the full-length mirror in the bride’s ready room, looking pale and terrified and magnificent in her borrowed wedding dress.

She somehow managed to look rooted to the floor and ready to bolt all at the same time. Grace approached her calmly, slowly, just like she’d approach a scared baby bird. Sadie looked that fragile, that broken.

A thousand swear words ran through Grace’s mind, but she swallowed them down. She’d seen this look before. Mostly in the eyes of clients who were about to get audited by the IRS or raked over the coals by a board of investors.

“Sadie,” she said in near-whisper. “Is everything OK?”

There was a pause so long that Grace contemplated repeating the question before Sadie blurted, “I don’t even know how I like my steak.”

Well, that wasn’t at all what Grace had expected her to say. But food was a good, tangible problem that Grace could fix, so she latched onto it. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to get you a steak?”

Sadie whirled away from the mirror so fast Grace stumbled back a step. “You don’t get it,” Sadie began, her voice high and thready in a way that made Grace even more nervous, “I. Don’t. Know. How. I Like. My. Steak.”

Grace opened and closed her mouth a few times as she searched for the correct response. But after a moment of coming up blank, she just shook her head, shrugged her shoulders, and said, “I’m going to need more information, Sadie. What does steak have to do with…” she paused, gesturing to Sadie’s state of wide-eyed panic, “…all this?”

Sadie whirled back to the mirror and shoved both hands into her hair, causing Grace to gasp in horror. It had taken her mother two hours to create the intricate up do Sadie was sporting, and she’d just ruined it with one gesture. Somehow she just knew her mom would blame her instead of Sadie for the lost hours.

“At breakfast this morning, I ordered steak and eggs, because when I was sick, Gage said I was underweight and needed more protein in my diet. The waiter asked how I wanted my steak cooked. I couldn’t answer him, Grace. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

No. Not even close. But she guessed, “Of course I do. How you cook a steak is really important to the flavor. I mean, well-done is best from a food safety standpoint, but it can get really dry that way. Medium-rare is tender, but not everyone can handle seeing the red in their meat. It’s…not an easy decision. That could’ve happened to anyone.”

Inwardly, Grace groaned. Wow, she was really bad at comforting people. Why was she rambling about steak, for God’s sake? She should’ve sent her mom in to talk to Sadie. No way would her mom go on a lengthy rant about steak at a time like this.

Sadie shook her head as her eyes welled with tears. “No, you don’t get it. I couldn’t answer because I always just order whatever Michael’s having, and Michael wasn’t with me. I can’t make decisions on my own, Grace. Not even easy ones like how I want a damn steak cooked. He’s my only friend. That’s why I don’t even have bridesmaids, for God’s sake. I take the same classes he takes. I go where he goes, like what he likes.” Tears mixed with mascara carved a path down the flawless finish of her makeup. “I live his life. I don’t even know who I am when I’m not with him.”

Suddenly Grace wanted to get her little brother in a headlock and beat the crap out of him. “Sadie, Michael shouldn’t have made you feel like that. Relationships are about compromise. He doesn’t get to always win. You need to talk—”

“No,” Sadie interrupted. “It’s not his fault. He would’ve compromised. I just never asked him to. I wanted to be a part of your family so bad, Grace. I think I wanted to be part of your family more than I wanted…”

She trailed off, but Grace knew what she meant.

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