“I am, short stuff. I’ll even give you a ride outside.” He picked Reese up and sat her on his shoulders. “Ready to go?” He looked at her and Mom.
Definitely. She had the three most important people in her life around her. Everything else took a back seat. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter Eighteen
She’d listened as the judge read the charges against first Brad and later Eliza. The only emotions she experienced were anger and hate. Did that make her a terrible person? Eliza was her sister. They’d grown up in the same house. They’d learned to ride their bikes and gone to camp together. Even though they’d often disagreed and Taylor hated the choices Eliza had made, she never thought she’d hate Eliza. Looking at her sister next to her court-appointed attorney, anger and hate had consumed her. She’d envisioned herself yanking Eliza to her feet and slapping her. Demanding to know why she’d done something so terrible. But she hadn’t. She’d stayed silent, seated next to Mom.
Mom experienced more than hate and anger, though. She’d heard Mom sniffle once or twice as she gripped Mr. McIntyre’s hand. Much like Curt, the man had been a permanent fixture at the house since Saturday, giving her the impression something more than mere friendship existed between him and Mom. If she ever got a moment alone with Mom, she’d ask her about him.
“Do you need to stop anywhere on the way home?” Mr. McIntyre asked from the front seat. He’d driven them all to Boston for Eliza’s arraignment.
Mom touched Mr. McIntyre’s shoulder, adding more evidence to Taylor’s belief that at some point the two had started a romantic relationship. “I’m all set, Danny.” Mom glanced back at her. “What about you, Taylor?”
“Good here.” It’d been hard enough leaving this morning. Only the fact that Curt and Reese were together made it possible. Spending any more time away from Reese was the last thing she wanted.
Maybe that’s not completely true, she thought, watching the traffic around them. Talking to Curt about what her sister had done and what it meant for them ranked pretty high on her list of things she didn’t want to do.
You have to do it. She couldn’t ignore the fact that Eliza tried to extort money from him. Up until now, he hadn’t mentioned it or Eliza at all. Instead, after driving them home from the police station, he’d helped her tuck Reese into bed and then crashed on their sofa. Much of yesterday, he’d played soccer with them, and afterward offered to babysit today so she and Mom both could go to court. But just because he hadn’t said anything didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about it. Once life became more normal, he might let her know he couldn’t stay with someone who had such deplorable relations.
The Sherbrooke family was an integral part of elite society. The name was synonymous with wealth and prestige. People everywhere recognized it. Curt might act like the average guy next door, but his family was a vital part of him. He’d never do anything to embarrass or tarnish his family. Hell, she hated being related to someone like Eliza, but at least no one cared who her relatives were. Reporters wouldn’t dig up the information and try to use it against her. However, if the media found out a member of the Sherbrooke family was dating someone who had a sister in prison, which was where Eliza would hopefully spend much of her life, it’d go nuts.
Reese kicked the white-and-pink soccer ball as Taylor stepped out of Mr. McIntyre’s car. The ball flew through the air before hitting the hood of Curt’s car with a solid thump. Correction, the hood of Curt’s very expensive car. He’d driven the Aston Martin to his cousin’s wedding Saturday morning. When the call came about Reese, they came straight here, so his more subdued SUV remained at his Newport condo, along with her suitcase.
After hitting the car, the soccer ball bounced to the ground and rolled away. Reese shouted a hello and went after it, but Curt jogged toward her without a word to her niece about being more careful. To a man who’d been prepared to pay Eliza a million-dollar ransom, a dent in his car was probably no big deal.
“Hey, how’d it go?”
“As I expected.” She preferred not to rehash today’s courtroom drama. “Everything okay here?” Reese had shared very little about what happened while with Eliza and her boyfriend. And, so far, she continued to behave as she always did. Any of that could change, which was why Wednesday she had an appointment with a child psychologist her pediatrician recommended.
“Perfect. Reese went swimming and then we went for ice cream. When we got back we came out here.” He searched her face. Afraid of what he might see, she looked away for a moment. “Something’s wrong.” His knuckles skimmed across her cheek. The tender gesture sent a sharp pain through her chest. “Do you want to talk about it? Maybe I can help.”
No, she didn’t want to, but what she wanted didn’t matter. They had to talk, and soon. “Give me a chance to change first.” She’d worn her standard court uniform: skirt, nylons, blazer, and heels. Outside of an air-conditioned building, today was proving way too warm for any of it. “I’m dying in this outfit.”
“I’ll be here.”
Reese dribbled the soccer ball back their way. Sweat dripped down her face, and her cheeks were a nice bright shade of pink. “Why don’t you both wait inside. I think Reese needs a break anyway.”
Women acting unlike themselves usually didn’t bode well for a relationship. While he wouldn’t classify Taylor’s behavior as grossly odd, something was off, and had been since yesterday. At first, he’d chalked it up to the situation with her sister and
Reese. After going through such an ordeal, anyone would be distracted and distant. This afternoon it seemed more pronounced. His instincts said more than the weekend’s ordeal was bothering her. Whatever the problem, he wanted to help—assuming she let him, of course. Taylor Walker was as independent as they came. Reese was quickly following in her aunt’s footsteps. Taylor’s strength and independence were two of the things he loved most about her, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t offer his aid.
“I’m having a freeze pop. Do you want one? There are blue ones.” Reese skipped past him toward the kitchen. They’d spent a lot of time outside today, but she still had an overabundance of energy. An obvious perk of being a kid.
“No, thanks. Water is all I want.” He was hot as hell from running around outside. The Walkers had window units throughout the home, and ceiling fans, but he missed his central air-conditioning. Any other time he would’ve asked Taylor to meet him back at his house. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know Taylor didn’t want Reese out of hearing distance any more than necessary.
“I’ll get it for you,” Reese’s voice floated back to him.
Curt stepped in front of the air conditioner. Cold air blew across him, and he savored the effects. After Taylor shared whatever she needed to get off her chest, he’d invite Taylor and Reese over for a swim. He hadn’t gone in the pool earlier, but Reese claimed it was the perfect temperature. Priscilla could come, too, and bring along Danny McIntyre. He’d never met him before the past weekend, but it was clear the two were romantically involved.
“Much better.” Taylor walked in and joined him in front of the window. She’d ditched her business attire and put on denim shorts and a blue tank top that made her eyes look more blue than gray. Not long after they met, he’d noticed how her eyes looked either bluer or grayer depending on her clothing. “Nylons are the worst piece of clothing every created. I’d find a different job if I had to wear them every day.”
“Try wearing a tie every day and then get back to me.” Perhaps the best part of leaving Nichols was not putting a tie on each morning.
Taylor shrugged, and turned away from the blasting cold air. “Let’s call it even.”
“Fair enough.” Sufficiently cooled off, he sat. “So do you want to share what’s wrong? Maybe I can help.”
She stuffed her hands into her back pockets and then pulled them out again. Her shoulders slumped slightly. He wouldn’t have even known if he hadn’t been watching her. Finally, she sat at the edge of the sofa, her body turned in his direction.