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There was no chance of that, I thought. None at all.
And, despite the magic and the teasing and the zing under my skin when I saw him, I didn’t want him around for the birth of my baby, so this whole argument was moot.
“It’s just some fun, Mom. That’s it.”
“It’s never just fun,” Penny said, shaking her head. “Someone always gets hurt. Always. And I don’t want that person to be you, because you’ve got enough on your plate.”
See, my impulsive nature once again stymied by Mom’s rationality. There was nothing my mother said that I could argue with.
Liking him, really liking Carter, was asking for trouble.
“You’re so busy with work and getting things ready for the baby, you don’t have time to be distracted.”
That, too, was true.
“There will be men, in the future, if you want them, but there is only one time in your life like this. One time to devote to your child.”
And score another one for Mom.
“You know I’m right,” Penny said, her case made. I sat slightly sad over a mess of apples.
“You are,” I admitted, taking a piece of apple off the cutting board.
A couple more dates, a few more photographs, and my fake-relationship with Carter was over. We had to be.
CARTER
Monday, I said good-night to Larry at the security desk then stepped out into the black-edged purple night. It fit my mood, dark and darker.
This impending moment had been riding me for hours. The cherry on top of what had already been a weird day.
My meeting with Lafayette had been successful, but even that victory couldn’t chase Zoe out of my thoughts.
Why had I told Zoe my feelings for her weren’t businesslike? What idiotic devil had possessed me to say something so stupid? These dates were fake. Arranged.
Zoe had it right—this was business. Nothing else.
And somehow Zoe made me wish things were different.
I turned left outside the glass doors and searched the quiet dusk for evil blondes of my bloodline. The night-blooming jasmine battled with the smells of the city street, and I could hear the highway humming in the distance. But right now, right here, all was quiet in my city.
Across the street, in the deepest shadows in the alleyway between a McDonald’s and a barbershop, I saw a flash of white, the glowing tip of a cigarette.
And then it was gone.
I paused for a moment, making sure no photographer was following me, then I cut across the street, eager to have this over with. A taxi honked, breezing past, and I ignored it, focused instead on finding my mother and getting rid of her once and for all.
I stepped into the murky darkness of the alley and found her behind a fire escape. Her blond hair was pulled back, her black shirt swallowing the light. Her face was tight, her eyes shuddered.
She was subdued.
It freaked me out. Put an edge to my anger. I didn’t need to battle through one more act, one more false face.
She was never going to be my mother. She was certainly never going to be a friend, but why the hell did everything have to be a game?
“You look like a thief,” I said, stopping a good three feet from her.
“You look like a suit,” she said, pointing at me with her cigarette. “I swear you’re the only O’Neill to wear a suit who wasn’t selling something. Or maybe you are?” She tilted her head. “Lord knows you aren’t the first O’Neill to try politics as their scam of choice. Your great-uncle Jasper made a fortune—”
“I’m not like you,” I said. “So you can stop trying to tie the family bonds.”
She paused as if she was going to say something, but in the end she just took a drag of her cigarette.
“You were wrong,” I said, cutting to the chase. “The gems aren’t in the house and no one has come sneaking around. Margot’s in West Palm Beach and unless she travels with a fortune in stolen gems—”
“She doesn’t,” she sighed, smoke circling her head. “She doesn’t have the jewels. I’m guessing she never did.”
“How do you know that?” I asked, something about the authority in her tone made me nervous. “What did you do?”
“I had someone break into their hotel room, Carter. What do you think I did? Don’t worry,” she sighed, watching my face. “The guy was a pro. They don’t even know anyone was there. She doesn’t have safe-deposit boxes. She doesn’t rent a safe in hotels.”
“I can’t believe you—”
“I honestly thought she had the gems,” she said, her laughter sounding angry and sad at the same time and I felt as if I’d been dropped in some kind of wormhole. “It would be so like her, making me jump through hoops, chasing my tail all over the damn world while she sat in Bonne Terre laughing.”
