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“”Brothers?” She’d told me she had only one brother. So much I didn’t know.
“Yeah. Three of them. All big and strong and protective. I met one of them recently. He’s the size of a tank.”
An artist the size of a tank? Riley’s brothers didn’t scare me. I could hold my own. Besides, I was no threat to their sister. I was in love with her. Despite the fact she’d lied to me continually.
But was I truly in love?
I knew nothing about her. I’d learned more from a half hour talking to Fox than I had from Riley in the few days we spent together.
Had I fallen in love with an illusion?
“Is she close with her brothers? Her family?”
“I honestly don’t know. I barely know her. We’ve been to some functions together, and we’ve had some trivial conversation, but she pretty much keeps to herself.”
I nodded. “I get it.”
Did I ever. She’d invented a whole new identity to keep me from getting to know her. Talk about keeping to herself. Maybe I didn’t know her any better than Fox did.
Except she and I had slept together. Made love. It had been quick and furious and wonderful, but I wished with all my heart that I’d been able to show her so much more.
“So why are you looking for her? She made that much of an impression on you?”
Had she ever. “Does that surprise you?”
He shook his head. “You aren’t the first guy to fall for a pretty face.”
I took a sip of my expensive bourbon. “She’s a lot more than a pretty face.”
“Is she? She seems like the typical heiress to me. Spoiled. Comes and goes as she pleases even though she has commitments.”
“Commitments?”
“She was supposed to be shooting in Paris this week. Everyone in the industry knows it. She does this all the time, and her poor agent has to make the excuses.”
I finished my bourbon. “I see.”
“If you’ve got some fairytale image of her, of saving the damsel in distress, my best advice is to get over it, Matt. Go home to Montana. Find a nice local girl. Get married and have some kids. Riley Wolfe isn’t for you.”
“Do you want her for yourself? Is that what this is about?”
He laughed. “God, no. She’s too old for me.”
Hmm. Good question. How old was Riley anyway? Her fake driver’s license had said she was twenty-eight. Seemed about right.
“How old are you?”
“First, I was kidding about Riley being too old me for. I’m twenty-one. I look older, and I won’t age quickly, which will serve me well in modeling.”
“Only twenty-one, and already you know the best bourbon?”
“I told you. I found it by accident— Wait a minute!”
“What?”
“I was with a woman the night I tried this for the first time a few weeks ago. A woman who married one of Riley’s brothers. He was there that night. Rock Wolfe.”
“What was the woman’s name?”
“Lacey. She’s an attorney. A total hottie, but she wouldn’t bite because she’s ten years older than I am. What is it with some women?”
“Maybe she was in love with someone else. Riley’s brother. Where can I find her?”
“Lacey?” Fox dug out his wallet and leafed through it. “I think I have her card. No, I guess not. Sorry.”
“Shit. But her name’s Lacey, right? An attorney. Last name?”
“Ward, I think, but like I said, she’s married to Rock Wolfe now.”
“That’s okay. It’s a start. Thanks, man.”
“Any time. Just remember if you find Riley, my name stays out of it.”
“You got it. Thanks for the drinks, and best of luck with your Duckie and Bandana thing.”
He laughed. “You’re a riot, Matt. It’s Dolce & Gabbana.” He pulled another card out of his wallet. “You ever want to have another drink, give me a call.”
“Will do.” I stood and held out my hand. “I’m glad we met.”
“Yeah, me too. See you around.”
I walked out of the bar, clutching the card and remembering the name he’d given me.
Lacey Ward.
My key to finding Riley.31RileyThough I’d requested the filet mignon entrée, I only ate a few bites. Nothing tasted good to me tonight.
I dreaded the memorial service tomorrow, and though my brothers needed me, I hated being back here. It was all a constant reminder of my father.
On top of all that crap?
I missed Matt.
I missed him so much.
The servers had collected our plates, and Charlie had the floor. Apparently she’d set up the memorial service.
“We need to be at the church at one p.m. tomorrow,” she said. “The service is at two. I’ve got the programs being printed tomorrow at ten, so…”
“What?” Rock asked.
“One of you has to do a eulogy.”
Silence descended in the banquet room like a black curtain. A eulogy?
“I’m sorry,” Charlie said, “but you guys told me this had to look like a real memorial where you were all devastated. One of you is going to have to step up.”
