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No one can say she doesn’t understand me.
“I will,” I lie.
I’m the big sister here, and it should be my job to take care of her, not the other way around. If I were to tell her so, she would undoubtedly insist it’s our job to take care of each other. Fine. But I’m not going to bottle up her sunshine. She’s newly engaged and happy, and I don’t want to do anything to screw that up.
Besides, other than the Byron mess and my ankle, I’m fine. My bar is doing better than ever, and if I’m having a bit of a crisis because I have trouble handing over the reins, then that’s my own problem. Most people would kill for a vacation. Admittedly, they probably wouldn’t choose to spend it in pain and on the couch, but so be it.
“I’m going to call you,” she threatens.
“If it’s before tomorrow, there’s a very low chance I’ll answer,” I tell her honestly.
There are more goodbyes, more reassurances, and then Danny and I are left awkwardly standing on the sidewalk, him with his two perfectly good legs and ankles and me with my cast and crutches.
“Shall we?” he says.
I start laughing without really knowing why, armpits balanced on my crutches. Despite the fresh outfit, there’s a very good chance I smell, and it’s only now I’m realizing that it won’t be easy taking a shower without any assistance.
“What?” he asks, self-consciously, shifting his weight between his feet. For some reason, it only makes me laugh harder.
“It’s just…you sound like a dude in some regency movie.Shall we, like you’re going to hook your arm around mine and take me for a walkabout.”
“It would work better if you weren’t on crutches,” he says, then nods to the door of the building. I can tell without knowing why that he’s itchy to get back inside. The traffic’s busy out here, and farther down the road a siren is going off. Admittedly, it’s not a pleasant spot for a chat.
I’m still chuckling as we approach the building.
“You enjoy laughing at me, don’t you?” he asks as he opens the door. His eyes land on me again, but there’s no annoyance in them this time, just slight amusement.
“I like laughing as a rule,” I tell him.
“It’s a good thing you have a nice laugh,” he says, entering the building after I swing my way through.
It’s a compliment no one’s ever given me, and I turn my head to glance at him as the door closes behind him. He’s looking at me, and he gives a small smile, as if to say he means it but won’t be repeating it. I’ll bet that’s true. He doesn’t seem like the sort of man who throws out compliments like they’re candy in a parade. That makes the ones he gives actually mean something.
“You know we’re going to have to take the elevator, right?” he says.
“You and that elevator.” I shake my head at him. “I’m beginning to think you should move into it.”
“You’re not going to get me out of the apartment so easily,” he says with a nearly-there smile.
I start swinging my way down the hall on the crutches, and he walks along beside me companionably. He’s close enough that my shoulder brushes his arm, and I have a flashback to what it felt like to have his arms around me in that stairwell. It gives me a flush of goodwill toward him that’s not at all reflected in what I say next. “Does this bring me back to the necessity of pushing you out of the window?”
“Probably,” he says easily, “but Burke might have questions for you.”
“He’s an easy mark,” I tease, giving him a slight bump with my shoulder. It’s obvious he misunderstands, because he touches my arm to steady me. “He’s so fond of my sister, he’ll overlook a lot of bad behavior on my part. Possibly even outright murder.”
“This means I’m not leaving you my record collection in my will,” he reports as we come to a stop in front of the death trap elevator.
“It’s a good thing we probably don’t have the same taste in music,” I say wryly, giving him a sidelong look.
He glances at me, still standing there.
I stare back at him.
“You want to press the button?” he finally asks.
“What am I, a five-year-old?” Truthfully, yes, I desperately want to press the button. I don’t want to go on the elevator, mind you, but pressing buttons is an inherently fun thing to do.
“Sure. My niece likes doing it too.”
