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He left the motor running, and as he walked up the path and in through the front door, Maria pressed the button at her side, lowering the window by about an inch, to give her the possibility of at least hearing what might be going on.
About sixty seconds later, Garrett walked back out and leaned against the hood of the car, giving her a perfect view of his splendid backside, even if it was through the clothes he was wearing. His stance was casual, yet he gave her no indication that she should leave her spot in the vehicle, so she remained sitting where she was.
About three minutes after that, a man and a woman walked from the house, the man’s face held in lines of fiery displeasure that Maria immediately recognized, because she’d seen the same look plastered on Garrett’s features more times than she could count. This guy looked exactly like Garrett, although older, and even though he’d said that the car didn’t belong to one of his brothers, there was no question in Maria’s mind that this man was a Rule male.
Maria studied the woman the other man held gripped in a death hold at his side. She had hair color of such a jet-black that Maria immediately knew it was dyed, and she wore make-up that held a Gothic edge. It mattered not a bit; the girl was delicately beautiful despite the flamboyant tone of her appearance. Even from this distance, Maria could see that the other woman was pale beneath the make-up and was trembling subtly. It occurred to her that the other woman’s cultivated look was perhaps a camouflage of some kind, almost like a pretense or disguise the girl presented to the world.
As the couple stalled on the driveway, the man stared at Garrett who was still reclining against the car, and snapped to the woman, “Get in the car, Angie.”
Maria heard the muted double-click of the other car’s locking mechanism, and the girl held a perfectly straight face, her spine erect and her chin up as she walked to the passenger side of the car and slid inside and then shut the door.
The two men began arguing immediately and Maria was guiltily pleased she’d had the forethought to crack the window.
“What the fuck, Garrett?” the other man all but yelled.
To give him credit, Garrett didn’t come unglued, but Maria did notice his spine stiffen as if readying himself for something. “What?”
“You’re supposed to be in Florida,” the brother accused.
“I believe I can be any fucking place I choose to be,” Garrett shot back in a deadly cold voice.
“You should have called.”
The cold in Garrett’s voice went to fire in an instant. “Really? You’re not my goddamn boss and it’s my fucking house.”
“It’s Rule Corporation property.”
“That’s bullshit semantics. I found it. I made the deal. I live here. You never gave a shit about the house in the first place. You want to strike it from the corporation’s portfolio? Fine, I’ll write a fucking check.”
The brother’s mouth firmed, his eyes narrowing as Garrett kept on talking. “If anybody should have called, it’s you—you’re just pissed because you got caught with one of your women with your goddamn pants down—”
Maria reared back as the brother lunged for Garrett, who came to his feet and sidestepped, and then the two men became deathly still as they stared each other down, an overabundance of testosterone about to light a fuse that could shatter any remaining possibility of a peaceful resolution.
Maria’s nerves escalated as she glanced across at the other car. The woman, Angie, was staring at the scene unfolding before them, any remaining color on her face having long since disappeared. She glanced away from the men toward Maria, and their gazes connected and held. The girl seemed even more upset than Maria was feeling. They didn’t smile at each other; there was no room in the dangerous scene playing out in front of them for pleasantries. But Maria felt as if they were sharing a silent communication of some kind, and she wondered if the other girl had heard Garrett’s crude comment and had been hurt by it.
When Maria looked away again, the men had broken apart from each other. The brother was getting inside his car, and Garrett stood in the driveway with his arms crossed until the other vehicle had pulled away and was out of sight.
Then he got back into the car and pressed a button on the dash that raised the garage door. He drove in silently and cut the engine.
“So, that was one of your brothers?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking.
“Yeah.” After the terse answer, he got out of the car, came around to her side and held the door open.
“I guess he bought a new car?” she asked, sliding from the vehicle.
