Page 23 of When I Found You

“Of course.” She nods and remains focused on the TV. “Don’t you?”

“No. I prefer Elvis, Bob Dylan, and Johnny Cash. Stuff I grew up with.” I undo the top two buttons of my shirt.

She spins and scrunches up her face at me. “Bob Dylan? Seriously? I mean, his lyrics are iconic, but his voice...no, no way.” Her gaze drops to where my hand at my throat.

“Doesn’t mean I enjoy it any less.” I shrug and work on my cufflinks.

“So, you don’t enjoy any modern music?” Her voice cracks at the end as her curiosity keeps her attention fixed on my hands.

“Not really.” I shrug. “My sister loves it. She works with all these people. I don’t see the appeal.”

“Wait? Marcy works with musicians?” Her jaw drops, revealing a beautiful row of pearly white teeth and a tongue I’d love to see put to good use.

“Musicians. Actors. Celebrities of all sorts. She’s the most sought-after stylist in town.” I steer my dirty thoughts back into neutral territory. “She didn’t tell you?”

“No. I mean, she’s stylish and knows her stuff,” Kate sputters. “But she didn’t give me any details or drop names.”

Drop names? What the hell does that even mean? I push the question aside. “Yeah. After her divorce a few years ago, she got this great opportunity through one of the networks downtown and her business went through the roof.”

Kate beams, and her smile hits me like a punch to the gut. “That’s amazing! It sounds like she’s living the dream.”

Living the dream. I marvel at the way she speaks. Her choice of words sometimes doesn’t make sense without context. “Yeah, well, it used to be a nightmare.”

Her smile faulters. “Her ex?”

“Yeah. The guy is an asshole. Rob and I tried to warn her, but she married him right out of high school.” I dislike even thinking about it, but I keep talking unable to stop myself. “He controlled everything she did. Who she saw. Where she went. Hell, he even tried keeping her from visiting and calling her family.”

“One of those guys.” Kate nods solemnly. “I understand.”

“When she finally caught him in bed with his co-worker’s wife, she filed for a divorce.” I ignore the emotions recounting this story brings to the surface. “I gave her a loan to get her on her feet. She refused to take a handout from anyone.”

“Yeah, I would’ve been the same way.” Kate props herself against the couch facing me. “You’re a good brother, helping her when she needed it the most.”

“She deserves the best, but she worked hard for what she has now.” I chuckle at my sister’s stubborn streak. “And she paid me back the full loan with interest. I’m proud of her.”

Kate rests her hand on my shoulder. “Family is important. I don’t have any siblings.”

“Oh?” I ask, noting the shift in conversation. I press her further to see if her amnesia has finally lifted. “Were you close with your parents?”

She chews on her lip as she stares at the television. “Yeah. Dad died...a while back. Mom passed a few months ago. I miss them.”

Interesting. I can’t help but wonder if her memory recovered or if she even had amnesia to begin with. With the conversation so personal, I decide against calling her bluff and instead focus on drawing more out of her.

“Did you grow up in the city?” I ask, searching her profile.

Kate shifts her attention back to me and I note the panic etched deep in her mismatched eyes. “I think so.” She laughs uncomfortably. “I don’t remember exactly. The details are still kind of fuzzy.”

“I understand. Rob did say the memories may be slow to return.” I slowly rise to my feet. “I’m going to change.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“There’s some leftover Chinese in the refrigerator if you’re still hungry. The pie wasn’t dinner. It’s not nearly satisfying enough.” I add the last part on a whim, teasing her. Another wave of blush stains her cheeks and she glances away.

“You’re never going to let me forget I said that, are you?”

“Said what?” I shove my hands in my pockets. “Your assertion about pie being better than sex.” Taking two steps backwards, I move closer to the bedroom. “Nope, probably not.”

Inside the bedroom, I change into my pajama pants and an NYU sweatshirt. When I come back into the living room, Kate’s in the kitchen heating up plates in the microwave. I hate the contraption and barely use it. She’s bouncing around with the music on the TV.

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