I was grinning when I boarded my flight. Everything was going great because:
(a) Red and I had made love.
(b) I was able to snag another flight just an hour after my original flight was scheduled to leave.
(c) Red and I had made love.
(d) Red and I had made love.
Of course, itâs because of a, c, and d that I missed my flight, but Iâd miss ten thousand flights if it meant I could have her again.
I texted her as soon as I landed.
Regina International Airport was small but sleek and modern, with its steel beams, high, impressive skylights, and glass windows that welcomed the rich sunlight.
I hated huge airports because I always got lost in them. They seemed to have too many entrances and exits, and too many people. If I wanted to sign up for a tour of the Matrix, Iâd go find Neo and the Key Maker.
Strolling through the crowd, I spotted a Subway, a Tim Hortons, and a kiosk with a tiny white bear wearing a red Royal Canadian Mounted Police uniform on display.
I thought of Red right away. She liked cute things like that.
So I bought it.
As soon as I stepped outside, the heat and humidity hit me like a punch in the face. Red had booked a limo for me in advance, and I was more than happy to get into the air-conditioned vehicle.
âMiranda Inn, please,â I informed the driver.
I was just settling in, taking in the sights, when my phone burped a text. It was Ben telling me to meet him in the hotel lounge so we could have drinks and catch up before we talked business.
Miranda Innâs success was due to my grandfatherâs inherent knack for businessâand luck. He had won the first hotel in a poker game, acquired all the rights and filed all legalities, changed the hotel name to his daughterâs, and in less than five years had expanded it into a chain countrywide. When he passed away, my mother inherited the business and took it international.
I got out of the cab and entered the hotel. I observed its muted colors and tasteful modern furnishings as I wandered inside, silently approving of the classy marble fountain in the middle of the lobbyâthough wouldnât it be cool to have a life-size T. Rex skeleton instead?
My mom would probably sell me before sheâd put dead dinosaur bones in her hotel. She had a spare son anyway.
I found myself grinning when I spotted Ben in the lounge, sitting on the window seat overlooking the beautiful manicured gardens.
Almost a year had passed since Ben and I had seen each other. Heâd been more than a brother to me as a child; heâd also been a best friend and a father to me when ours left.
Dressed in a charcoal suit, he looked very sophisticatedâif you didnât count the dark blond hair that fell loose just above his shoulders, giving an impression of wildness. Even as a kid, heâd always been both a little proper and a little wild.
People always remarked how we didnât look like brothers. He had our dadâs strong, masculine looks, while Iâd inherited our momâs softer features. He had a rakish face. Confident and intelligent gray eyes that could charm a woman or silence a grown man with just one look. A strong nose, a square jaw.
I had punched that jaw many times when we were kids, about as many times as heâd punched mine. He was the one whoâd taught me how to fight.
He must have felt my presence because his eyes abruptly shifted to mine. And then he grinned.
âLook at that face,â he greeted, rising from his seat and wrapping me in a fierce hug. âStill butt-ugly.â
âGoddamn. I missed you.â
âDonât cry now. People will think I broke up with you,â he said, but he only hugged me tighter. âSit your ass down and tell me what youâve been up to.â He signaled for service as we took our seats.
âWhatâs with the hippie hair?â I teased.
âAh. Gives me an exotic look.â He smoothed his dark-blue tie. âWomen love it.â
I scoffed. âWomen just like you for your money.â
He chuckled, then smiled at the girl who placed a cup of coffee in front of him and a glass of orange juice in front of me. He thanked her, and she blushed. âWeâll have dinner in fifteen minutes.â
âYes, Mr. Lockhart,â she said.
âI ordered for us already,â Ben explained as the server walked away. âSo, a college graduate.â I watched as he poured cream in his coffee, stirring it with a silver spoon. âYouâre all grown up and ready to take over the world.â
âLetâs start with one hotel. I heard you have a job for me.â
âIf you want it. Mom wants you to supervise this hotel. It needs a lot more attention than the others.â He paused, sipped his coffee. âBut youâd have to relocate here.â
âIâd rather stick to home,â I replied instantly.
I wasnât budging. Red needed to finish one more year of school.
Ben raised his brows.
âFor a year or two. At least,â I added.
He straightened in his seat, crossing his legs. âMom wonât be pleased.â
I shrugged. I hated disappointing my mom, but this was nonnegotiable for me. âIâll tell her myself.â
âYou got a girl?â
âYeah.â I grinned. âYeah, Iâve got a girl.â
âThere are two types of women in a manâs life,â he started, his gray eyes twinkling. âFirst type: Damn, sheâs hot. I want to bang her.â
âAnd the second?â I asked.
âDamn, sheâs hot. I want to bang her.â
I laughed and then thought of Redâs dark eyes, the way they laughed in delight or blazed in anger or determination. I felt my heart trip. âNah. Sheâs more the âDamn, sheâs perfect. I want to marry herâ type.â
He nodded, picked up his coffee cup, and drank again.
âI already proposed,â I blurted out.
Ben choked, placing his cup back on the saucer as he cleared his throat. âWhat?â
I grinned at him. âSeveral days ago.â
âGoddamn, you horny bastard. Is she pregnant?â
I thought about that heated, wild moment with Red when I didnât use a condom. Had it just been a few hours ago?
Iâd never been so careless. Iâd never not worn one when I needed it.
âToday she might be. But I hope not, because sheâs going to be absolutely pissed at me. Although I wouldnât mind if she isâ¦pregnant, I mean.â
A picture of a little girl with dark hair and gleaming cat eyes flitted into my mind. And then a little boy with the same features. No, I thought, I wouldnât mind at all.
âWhat did you do to my brother, and where did you put his carcass?â Ben asked, looking confused and shocked.
I laughed. I couldnât blame him. I was a very different person before Red came into my life.
âYouâll meet RedâVeronica,â I corrected, âon Sunday. Iâm surprised Mom hasnât told you.â
âIâve been busy. I took over Momâs meetings in Europe this month. I came back from Paris a week ago, actually. The last time I spoke with Mom, she told me Beatrice-Rose had come to visit her at home to speak about you.â
I let out an expletive. âYou mean she bad-mouthed my fiancée to Mom.â
I could feel the anger trapped in my hands as they turned into fists. I had never hit a girl in my entire life, and I wasnât about to start now, but the thought of Beatrice-Rose spreading lies about Red made me want to hit something.
Why wouldnât she leave Red alone? I could put up with Beatrice-Rose making trouble for me, but I would not tolerate her making trouble for my girl.
Ben narrowed his eyes. âWhy would she bad-mouth your fiancée?â
A dull ache started to throb at the base of my neckâthe threat of a headache coming on. I cupped my neck with my palm and tried to massage it out.
âIs your fiancée a terrorist, a dog thief, or a stripper?â Ben teased.
It was supposed to be a joke, but it only fueled my anger, reminding me of the poster Justin had put up in the basketball teamâs locker room. Lucky for him, we hadnât found one anywhere else.
The dull ache climbed up to my temples.
âI was joking, Cal. Calm the hell down.â
I realized I was gripping my glass hard enough to crack it. I loosened my grip and took a deep, calming breath. âSorry. Itâs not you. Beatrice-Rose has fucked with my life in more ways than I care to count.â
âExplain it to me.â
Usually he would have known this by now because I always told him everything, but all these things had happened so fast and weâd both been busy. So I told Ben everything. He listened without interrupting, but I noted that his gray eyes flashed with incredulity when I spoke about what had happened in Beatrice-Roseâs house and why Red had left me. They darkened with anger when I told him about Justin putting up that infuriating poster of Red in the basketball teamâs locker room. And finally, they conveyed cool, deadly calm when I told him about the drugs that were planted in my car.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the server walk toward us, but Ben held his finger up, signaling her not to interrupt. She nodded and left.
When I finished, I reached for my drink. Even though Red and I were back together, recalling the time we were separated brought an ache to my chest.
âSo you hired a PI?â
I nodded. I knew Ben was going to ask about that first. He had protected me since we were kids.
âIs the PI any good?â he asked.
âUncle Harry recommended him.â
Ben nodded, satisfied. Uncle Harry was a retired private investigator and an old friend of our grandfather.
âKeep me updated,â Ben said.
âI will. What is it?â I asked.
Ben had propped his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together and resting them on his lips. His sharp gray eyes narrowed in thought.
âIf youâd told me Beatrice-Rose was capable of this three weeks ago, I would have been skeptical and very likely stunned.â
âWhat do you mean?â
Ben took a deep breath, his eyes looking solemn. âI know how much she loves you. Remember, I watched the two of you grow up. Iâm not defending her,â he hurried to say before I could interrupt and say I didnât give a ratâs ass.
Beatrice-Roseâs love was poison. If you could even call it love.
âIâm just trying to make sense of the situation,â Ben explained.
I nodded. Ben always analyzed a situation from all angles. That was what made him an astute businessman and a good brother. When I was an angry teenager, heâd told me that when you were too close to the situation, it was hard to see the big picture, and that had always stayed with me.
âI told you I was in Paris for businessâabout three weeks ago. I ran into Beatrice-Rose outside the restaurant I was just leaving after my meeting.â
I frowned. Beatrice-Rose was in Paris? Three weeks agoâ¦
âWhen I saw her that day, I could tell she wasnât well. She was walking by herself, looking lost.â
Three weeks ago, so were Red and I. âI donât careââ
âCal, listen to me.â The grim tone in his voice caught my attention. âShe looked ill, like sheâd been suffering from a cold for a month. She was pale, withdrawn, and thinner than Iâve ever seen her. So I took her to dinner. It wasâ¦disturbing.â
Ben leaned back in his seat, his eyes bleak. âThere was a manic quality to her. Sheâd be perfectly polite and calm for ten minutes, and then sheâd scratch her arms until they bled. She kept muttering about her dad and her bunny rabbit. Then out of the blue, sheâd be calm again. So I told her Iâd take her to the hospital. She must have realized I wasnât going to let her go because she told me she was already staying in a clinic.â
âA clinic?â I asked, perplexed.
Ben turned his head to look outside for a moment, as if contemplating something, before he shifted his serious gray eyes back to mine.
âIt was a mental facility, Cal.â
âWhat?â I could only stare at him, shocked.
âI couldnât believe it either. She told me sheâs been getting therapy there for years. It started when her dad got sick. She had been doing better, but when she went back this time, sheâd gotten worse.â
God. I had no idea.
That was around the time Red and I broke up, and that was also when I had scorned Beatrice-Rose. She must have checked herself into the clinic after that.
Guilt churned in my stomach, making me feel sick. I knew Beatrice-Rose wasnât dealing well with her dadâs condition, but had I pushed her to the brink?
âThat was whenâ¦Red and I broke up. I talked to Beatrice-Rose and told her to stay away from me. I was really angry. I said a lot of harsh words to her.â
Ben studied me for a moment. âItâs not your fault.â
Maybe not. But I had added to it.
I stared at my hands, balling them into fists. âMaybe she wasnât faking her panic attacks.â
âMaybe she was, maybe she wasnât,â he said. I looked up into his gray eyes and saw sympathy there. âYou canât blame yourself for reacting that way after the stunt she pulled. Were you supposed to just let it go? Youâre not stupid, Brother. If a person tried to stab you, would you just stand there and take it? Thereâs something wrong with her,â he continued. âBut it doesnât exempt her from the consequences of her actions. She needs to be back at the clinic.â
âSheâs home now,â I informed him.
âI know. Sometimes itâs best to step back and let other people help her. Sheâs not your responsibility.â
âShe was my friend,â I said.
Ben nodded. âYeah. All we can do is be there for her when sheâs ready to accept help. But you need to learn to step back when sheâs out to destroy her life and wants to take you down with her. Let the doctors and professionals who are more equipped to deal with her condition help her. Thatâs who she needs now.â He raised his brows. âWe good?â
I let out a relieved breath. âYeah, good.â
The server arrived with our food. I wasnât hungry, but since it was there, I picked up my burger and took a bite, eyeing Benâs steak. âYouâre such a cheap date. How come you just got me a burger and fries?â
âYou always get a burger and fries,â he reasoned.
âYeah, but I want a steak this time.â
âYou want a steak because I have a steak.â
He was right. It was out of principle, really. When we were kids, if he had a new toy, I had to have the same thing. If he wore a Batman shirt, I wore a Batman shirt too.
âSwitch,â I demanded.
âWhat are you, seven?â
âTwenty-three in less than two days.â
I rose to swap our plates, but he grabbed his plate before I could reach for it.
âItâs my birthday,â I reminded him.
He gave me a bored look. âYou exhausted your birthday excuses a long time ago.â
In the spirit of brotherhood, Ben pulled a coin from his pocket. âFlip you for it. Heads, I get the big slab of dead cow. Tails, you choke down your burger and fries. And youâre paying for beer later,â he added.
âYou got it.â
He flipped it, and our gazes remained fixed on the coin. It landed on the table between us. When Ben looked up at me, his smile was smug.
I sneered. âAss.â
He shrugged, still sporting a cocky grin. âWhereâs my beer?â