Page 76 of Diamonds & Deception

If I stretch out my legs, my feet will be on his lap. I don’t. I keep them curled next to me and stroke Daisy’s ears. We sit until the silence becomes unbearable.

“My mom married Carly’s dad, Randy, when she was six and I was sixteen.” I don’t take my eyes off the television, so I can’t gauge Drake’s reaction. I have no idea if he cares to hear my real backstory. But I need to tell it.

“She was the little sister I never had. Randy’s been an amazing stepfather, and my mom adored Carly. There was never any jealousy or animosity between us. Probably because of our age gap. We had different needs from our parents that didn’t conflict with each other. Carly wanted attention and to go out for ice cream once a week. I wanted to hang out with my friends and have permission to take the keys to the car.”

Daisy rolls to her side and begs me to scratch her belly.

“They used to come up to Boston and visit me at BC all the time. Carly loved the city and taking the T.” I laugh. She loved it, germs and all. “My mom and Randy would take Lenora and me out for dinner, and they always sent care packages for both of us. Lenora loved Twizzlers, and peanut M&Ms were my favorite.”

I drop my gaze to Daisy, then glance at Drake. He’s focused on me and not the television. My legs have somehow stretched out without me realizing it, and he takes one in his hands and lightly rubs my foot.

“Carly was upset when I moved back to Philly. She wanted an excuse to come up to Boston. A few years later, she applied to Wentworth. She loved art and interior design. When Four Aces opened, she applied for a job as a blackjack dealer. Easy money until she got a real job in design. She met Owen a little after Christmas. She stopped Facetiming me as regularly because she spent so much time with him. She was happy though.”

I stare up at the screen and pretend to watch television, but the words won’t stop flowing.

“She had her father wrapped around her finger. My mom’s too.” I laugh. “And mine. Spoiled princess, but without the attitude. Randy, he... he’s been struggling. My mom is worried about him. His grief is so... I don’t know how to help him.”

I wipe my eyes on my shoulder and shift, pulling my foot from Drake’s hand. I miss the contact, but I need to look him in the eye for this part.

“I thought I’d be able to find who killed her and at least give Randy and my mom some sense of closure.” I hiccup back more tears. “My sole purpose for coming back to the city was to help them. I researched everything there was to know about you. I read a human-interest article the Globe put out on you before the opening of Four Aces. You mentioned your two boxers, Clementine and Banana. I remember giggling at their names and forcing myself not to think of you as a real person. You were a source of information to help heal my family.”

I’ve been talking for nearly ten minutes, and he hasn’t said a word. Not that I want him to. I need to get it all out before he reminds me how I lied to him and he tells me he doesn’t believe my feelings for him were ever real.

“I found Daisy at the shelter, learned your running schedule, and planned to crash into you. After the first moment of contact, nothing else went as planned.” I use the front of my sweatshirt to wipe my nose. Disgusting, but I don’t care. “I didn’t want to like you. I thought I was betraying Carly and Randy by falling for you. I tried so damn hard not to...”Not to fall in love.

Drake stares at Daisy, listening to my story. I can’t read his expression or his body language. It’s void of emotion. Does my story soften him, make him angry? Is he indifferent?

I don’t ask because I’m not ready to hear his response. He doesn’t swoop me into his arms and kiss the ever-loving life out of me. That’s the only response I want, and if that’s not what he can give, silence is the next best.

I drop my feet to the floor, and Daisy hops off my lap. “I’m going to go to bed. Would you mind letting Daisy out before you crash?” I don’t wait for a response.

He doesn’t stop me or follow me to my room. My heart breaks a little more, and I’m worried the pieces will never fit back together again.

For the first time in over a week, I sleep for three straight hours. I toss and turn and manage another few hours. In the morning, I’m alone in the penthouse with a note from Drake.

I let Daisy out but didn’t feed her yet. I’ll check in on you both later this afternoon.

I never even heard him come into my room to get Daisy last night, and I didn’t hear him this morning either. He’s incredibly thoughtful for a man who’s been hurt so deeply. I understand why his friends call him Switzerland.

I open the freezer and take out the coffee, then reach for the pot to fill with water, only the pot is already filled with coffee. Another thoughtful gesture. I put the grounds away and pour myself a cup.

When I open the fridge to get my creamer, I freeze. It’s stocked with all the ingredients I wrote down last night during dinner. It’s only seven in the morning. How the hell did he get this delivered already?

I’m not hungry yet, so I take my coffee to the couch and stare out the window at the city below. Even though I’m just as trapped today as I was yesterday, I have a sense of freedom. It was surprisingly freeing to tell Drake about my family.

Even if he didn’t care to hear my story, I needed to get it out. I don’t think I irritated him with my long-windedness. His body had remained relaxed. I’ve pissed him off enough times to notice the signs when he’s agitated.

The clenched fists and jaw. The stiff shoulders. The heavy breathing as he looks over my shoulder.

I saw none of that last night, even though I couldn’t bring myself to look at him much. When my coffee cools, I top it off and go back to his office to work on an article that’s past due. My editor has been amazing and accommodating. First, this spring when Carly was killed, and now that I’m mourning Lenora.

I don’t want to fall too far behind though, so I dig out my draft from last week and continue my research of the Lakeview Electric Company in Pittsburgh, which has a dozen lawsuits. Better to dive into someone else’s problems than my own.

***

THE FOUR OF US SITaround the conference table, the box of donuts barely touched. Even Trey has only had one. I can’t stomach all that sugar right now.

“You look like shit, man.” Trey slides the box of donuts down the conference table, and I ignore it.

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