“A man.”
“Oh yeah. An educated, successful businessman, who has never cheated on his taxes.” I smiled sardonically. “What a delinquent.”
“I never forgot your name when he told us,” Marc finished.
“We like using an ampersand,” I replied.
Marc took a deep breath, then slowly released it. “Calvin obviously felt you were worth giving up his family over.”
“No,” I said sternly, pointing an accusing finger at Marc. “Don’t you dare. Say what you want about me. Whatever you’ve got, I guarantee I’ve heard worse. But don’t you think for one moment I’m going to let you emotionally guilt or blackmail Calvin over one of the hardest decisions he’s ever had to make for himself.”
“What was that?”
“Allowing himself to be happy,” I said. “Youmade a conscious decision when you walked out of his hospital room. And you’ve continued to consciously make a decision each day you haven’t picked up a damn phone to call him.”
I had to stop. I realized I’d been taking a step forward with every word I spoke, and had breached Marc’s personal space. It was kind of startling to realize how much anger had been building up inside me toward a man I’d never met, never spoken to. I wasn’t doing a hell of a lot to make myself likable either, but that didn’t matter.
Ididn’t matter.
“Your brother is an incredible person,” I said, voice low. “And I feel like… you have no clue.”
“I’m here,” Marc answered. “Aren’t I? I want to fix this.”
“Fix your relationship or fixhim?”
The bell over the Emporium door chimed. “Good morning!” Beth Harrison of Good Books called cheerfully as she shuffled inside.
I looked at her. “Now’s not a good time,” I stated.
“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so,” Beth answered. She put her bejeweled glasses on with one hand, the other hugging two items to her chest. After giving the room a brief assessment, she asked, “Who died in here?”
“What?” Rossi asked, quickly coming to attention.
“What?” Beth echoed.
I held my hands up for everyone to stop. “Figure of speech, Rossi.”
Beth narrowed her eyes and gave Marc a visible once-over. She turned to me, jutted a thumb at him, and said accusingly, “You never told me your gorgeous fiancé had an equally gorgeous sibling.”
“Beth!” I shouted.
“Fiancé?” Marc protested.
Beth held her hand out to Marc as if she were royalty. “Beth Harrison.”
“You and Calvin are engaged?” Marc sputtered.
“Oh my God,” I groaned. I took my glasses off and covered my face with my hand.
Beth made a face. “Was it a secret? You’re wearing a damn ring, Sebby.”
“And he hadn’t noticed. Thanks, Beth.”
She huffed and walked toward me. “I brought you something.”
“A tire iron?” I put my glasses back on.
Beth’s brow furrowed. “Why would I bring you that?”
