But there’s more to my visit than just not wanting to eat alone. I’m curious about E
lliot’s wife—what she’s like—plus how marriage is treating my brother. He didn’t marry for love, but the few glimpses I had of them at Blake’s place made me suspect they have feelings for each other. Whether they’ve admitted as much to themselves is another matter.
I’d like some evidence that a union entered into with cold-blooded calculation can lead to something other than a lifeless…life. I need at least that much reassurance to marry Faye.
In fact, I have to convince myself of it. And then do what I need to do if I don’t want to be the pathetic kid I used to be.
Earlier today Ken Asada came back with the report I requested—social security number, photos, credit check, criminal record and everything else he could dig up on Jon Barkley, Ava’s date from the function. The results were incredibly disappointing. The guy is too damn nice. A good, stable job. Normal family. No criminal convictions or arrests. Decent-looking, too, I have to admit. Certainly no scars. He’s exactly the kind of guy I wouldn’t mind seeing my own sister hook up with.
At first I assumed I was let down because I wanted Ava to date jerks so she would realize how good she’d had it with me. But later I realized it was much simpler and dumber. I was harboring a secret wish—that I’d have a reason to swoop in, save the day, and she’d fall into my arms again.
Such a clichéd setup…it sounds like something from a third-rate romantic comedy. Shit like that doesn’t happen in real life, and I should know better.
It’s time to get my head screwed on straight and think about what I’m doing.
Elliot’s penthouse is still the same—a bachelor pad. The pricey electronics, leather couches and minimalistic interior decoration are just the way I remembered. But the mantel and shelves now have framed photos of him and his wife Belle. Not many—they haven’t been together that long—but certainly more than what I have of Ava. The selfies we took while we were at the bed and breakfast are on her phone. She never had a chance to send them to me.
Not that I would’ve kept them.
Elliot pads over, his bare feet quiet on the floor, and takes my wine. “Finally. Belle thought you might have decided not to join us.” His hair is damp, his cheeks slightly flushed. I’d put money on his having used the pool on the upper deck recently. If he could be reborn as anything, it might be a dolphin. He’s put on a white T-shirt and loose, long pants instead of his usual shorts. He shouldn’t have bothered. Just because I choose to wear slacks in the summer doesn’t mean everyone has to.
“Bad traffic, and I’m not that familiar with the roads here.”
“No GPS?”
“It’s only marginally useful. Doesn’t account for the horrible drivers on the road.”
Belle comes out from the kitchen with a platter of Chinese food and places it on the dining table. She’s dressed in a wintry gray dress with an uneven hemline that flatters her curvy body. A string of pearls circle her elegant neck, and more pearls drip from her ears. Like Elliot, she’s barefoot, and I spot a pair of white suede pumps in a small nook between the couch and dining room.
“I hope you don’t mind takeout. But we did put it on real china.” She comes over and gives me a quick hug.
I squeeze her back then let go. “Elliot promised me a home-cooked meal.”
He jabs me in the ribs. “I promised no such thing.”
Belle laughs. “It’s really my fault. I came home late from work.”
“What do you do?” I’m ninety-nine percent certain she isn’t still working at the strip joint where she met my brother.
“OWM. I’m an assistant to one of the fund managers.” My shock must be obvious because she chortles. “What did you think I was doing these days?”
“Uh…shopping?” Oh, good. That’s real smooth. “I had no idea. Sorry.”
She shrugs with a small smile. “I did come with a colorful history, so I can’t really fault you. Tell you what. Let’s toss our assumptions and actually get to know each other.”
Elliot wraps his arm around her. “Told you she was awesome.”
I smile. “Lucky bastard.”
You could’ve had that…if Ava hadn’t found out.
I stop the thought before it can grow into something malignant. I could’ve never had what they have. Ava never loved me the way Belle clearly loves Elliot. I know my twin. He isn’t the easiest man to live with—and has had his share of scandals, several of them having come out since their marriage. She loves him enough to overlook them all. Ava can’t tolerate any flaws on my part, and I’ll never be perfect enough for her.
Shoving the ugly thoughts aside, I follow my brother and his wife to the table. I don’t want to feel sorry for myself or resent the happiness they have. They’ve earned it. From what I was able to piece together from Blake, she almost died from getting tangled up with Elliot.
“Where’s your sister?” I ask once we’re seated.
“Nonny’s out. She apparently couldn’t cancel her evening out with her friends.” Belle frowns.