Family Matters (DiCarlo Brides book 4) (The DiCarlo Brides) (17 page)

After spending the night and morning mulling over the images and impressions he had experienced the previous night, Harrison decided he should have lunch with his sister. Sage had been dealing with her precognition for decades and he hoped she’d have some insight for him.

When he arrived at the spa at lunchtime she was in a treatment, but her assistant manager said she’d be out soon. He grabbed a magazine on natural healing and flipped through it, not really interested in the text, but needing something to do so he didn’t fidget too much.

Sage came out of her treatment room a few minutes later and walked over, stopping in front of him. “What’s going on? You need a deep muscle massage? Someone probably has an opening.”

He shook his head. “I wondered if you’d like to grab some lunch. Or are you planning on eating with Joel?”

She looked at him for a moment and nodded. “I’ll let Joel know we’re doing a brother-sister lunch today. He’ll be okay with it.”

“I don’t want to be in the way,” Harrison protested, knowing it wouldn’t stop her and glad for it.

“Don’t worry about it. He understands sometimes you’re going to need me around too.” She flashed him a smile. “Besides, I want to hear about your date.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.

He felt his face heat a little and saw curiosity on her assistant’s face. “That’s kind of what I wanted to discuss. In a manner of speaking.”

“Good. Give me a few minutes to clean up my treatment room and call Joel.” She turned on her heel and headed off again.

She was fast and soon they were walking into the hotel’s snack bar. He preferred the main restaurant, but he didn’t want to take the chance that Rosemary would come out to say hello.

When he picked a booth on the far end, Sage lifted her brows. “Privacy?”

“Yes.” He felt like an idiot. He’d never discussed his dates with Sage before—but none of them had been The One, or her sister. And it was really the visions he needed to talk about and no guy friend would understand what that was like—even if he were close to anyone out here.

They ordered and she opened her bottled water while he sipped on his soda.

“So what’s going on?” she asked. “You said this was about your date—was there a problem? Because when I asked Rosemary about it, she was smiling.”

“It was fun. I think I might have freaked her out a little, so I’m glad she’s smiling.” He played with the straw in his cup. “I never told you what happened the first time I saw her, way back on that cruise, and again when we met here.”

“You didn’t have to,” Sage said. “I could see that there was an affinity there. I never noticed it with you and anyone else you dated.”

Harrison sucked in some air. “The first time I saw her I knew. Somehow I knew she was going to mean something to me. When she was nasty to you I wrote it off as a crazy thought. But he kept popping back into my mind at odd random moments—nine years passed and I couldn’t completely forget her. So when I saw her again, I recognized her immediately. I recognized that moment of connection and knew I had to get to know her, to give things a chance to go somewhere. For some small part of me, it’s always been her.”

Sage’s brows lifted. “You think any of this is a revelation for me?”

He laughed nervously, both relieved and embarrassed at once. “No, of course not. What was I thinking?” He brushed the hair out of his eyes and recentered his thoughts. “The thing is, it’s never been like that with anyone else—I don’t just mean that feeling of connection to her—I know I’ll never feel that with anyone else. I mean, feeling anything in that way—that freaky precog thing you do all of the time. I’ve never done that except with her.”

“Now my precog is freaky?” she asked, her lips twisting up a little at the edges.

“What do you mean,
now
? It’s always been freaky,” he shot back.

She laughed. “Fair enough. So what do you see when you’re with her.”

He closed his eyes, seeing the flash of images again. “Everything. Always. When I kissed her last night, it was like being slammed with my whole future.” He shook his head. “It freaked
me
out, no way was I going to tell her about it.

The waitress brought their food and he smiled and waited until she moved far away enough not to hear them. “I saw her holding our child in her arms, an older little boy toddling around. It threw me for a loop.”

Sage folded her arms on the table, leaned forward and studied him. “That’s a pretty incredible gift. And what you need, isn’t it?” She squirted lemon on her salad. “Rosemary’s, hmmm, a little prickly. She can be hard to get to know and she tends to put up walls to keep people out. You’ve seen your future with her—and don’t think I don’t envy that. It sucks never being able to use my gift to learn things about myself. Anyway, you know you can have that, and that it’ll be good. Not necessarily easy, but worth it.”

He nodded, reassured that she didn’t think he was crazy, that she supported his feelings when his relationship with Rosemary, at first glance, would seem doomed.

She reached across the table and touched his hand. “The next few weeks are going to be rough, rougher than you think possible. Hold on and don’t let it get to you. Things will turn out for the best, one way or another.”

He was surprised. “What do you know?”

She shook her head, her brows furrowing. “Nothing concrete, but there’s definitely something brewing. Keep her close, her and Cleo—and talk to Cleo about you and Rosemary. It’ll make things easier.”

He picked up his sandwich. “I can do that. Now, how are things coming with the house plans?” He needed a change of subject.

She picked up her fork and stabbed at some lettuce leaves. “We start digging the pool house the second the weather permits. We’re still finalizing details for the actual house.”

“But that comes secondary to the pool?” he teased.

“You know it does.” She talked about their house plans with a happy smile.

Harrison couldn’t help but hope Sage was right. When he spoke to Rosemary he downplayed the way his father’s rejection had affected him, the fact that George’s lies had hurt him almost as much as they hurt Sage, but there was part of him that wondered if the problem was partly him.

Intellectually, he knew better, but in those years between first meeting Rosemary and his move to Colorado, he’d wondered if he was the reason none of his relationships made it more than a few months. Now he knew it wasn’t him—it was because those women hadn’t been
her
. He just needed to remind himself of that when things got rough—and Sage was right, it wasn’t going to be easy.

The workday was almost over and Rosemary still pored over order forms. She really needed to delegate this to one of her assistants—Tate would be happy to handle it—but she was too big of a control freak and she knew it.

“Are we going soon?” Cleo grumbled from where she sat at the make-shift desk nearby, doing her homework.

“Soon. I promise.”

“That’s what you said twenty minutes ago,” Cleo grumbled. “I have all weekend to do homework, why do I have to do it all right now?”

“Then I guess how long it takes will depend on your definition of
soon
.”

“I wish you’d let me go see Harrison. He takes time to talk to me, at least.”

At his name, Rosemary’s mind automatically detoured to their kiss the night before. He had kind of freaked her out when he insinuated that his one psychic experience had something to do with her. By the time he said goodnight though, she’d pushed it from her mind—or the thought of kissing him, something she’d wanted to do for quite a while, did. She wondered if she’d been hoping the chemistry just wouldn’t be there so she’d have an excuse to walk away. But apparently chemistry really wasn’t one of their problems.

Thoughts of his revelation wouldn’t stay gone. As soon as her head had hit the pillow, it had been uppermost in her head again. She should end things now, right now, before they went anywhere. But then she thought of their kiss and how perfect, how right it felt when he held her, how much she wanted to feel that again, and she couldn’t make herself walk away. Maybe in a little while, when they ran out of things to talk about and the novelty of their relationship had worn off. She’d just been thinking about him for too long to look at it sensibly. “Give me five minutes of quiet and I promise we can go.”

“Five minutes?” Cleo sounded doubtful, but she stopped complaining.

A moment later the phone on Rosemary’s desk rang and Cleo groaned. Rosemary wanted to groan too—she wanted to go home—but she held it in. “Kitchen, this is Rosemary, how can I help you?”

“Rosie, I knew I would find you there. You’re such a workaholic.” Wanda’s voice snapped Rosemary’s thoughts away from the numbers that had been running through her head.

“Mom.” She sent her voice several degrees cooler than for most people and sat back in her chair.

“How are things in Colorado? I bet they have wonderful skiing there. One of my friends went to Park City last month, is that near you?”

“No, it’s in Utah, not near me. What do you want?” When her mother took on that wheedling tone and tried to make small talk, Rosemary knew she wanted something. It used to be that she wanted Rosemary to ask George for more money, an advance or something, but now George was gone and rumor was out about how much Rosemary and the others would be worth, it was her turn, apparently.

“Why are you so mean to me? You know I’m not very healthy. I’m fragile.”

She was as healthy as she wanted to be, and always had been. “Your point?”

“I need to go to a specialist to see what’s going on with my lungs. They hurt, Rosie, and I need the doctor.”

Rosemary felt the desire to give in. She’d always craved her mother’s approval, but she’d learned years earlier that it was fleeting, melting away moments after the favor had been granted. She steeled herself to be firm. “Then go. I’m not stopping you.”

“He’s really expensive, honey. I know you want me to get the treatments I need, don’t you?”

Rosemary sighed. She’d seen it coming, but she was past giving in—she wasn’t going to bankroll her mother’s fancies any more than George had in his last few years. “Yes. And I bet if you go get yourself a job, you could afford your special treatment.”

“But I’m too sickly for a job. Who would hire me? You have to help me, Rosie.”

“Who indeed.” Rosemary said the words quietly so she hoped they wouldn’t be understood over the line. “Do you remember when I was in DC and you gave me that line about cashing in on your mistake, Mother? Well, the bank is closed. You’ll have to go find another source of income.”

This time when she spoke, Wanda’s voice was no longer wheedling, but angry. “You owe me, Rosemary. You’re going to pay or you’ll be sorry.”

“Take it up with my lawyer.” She hung up without saying goodbye.

“I don’t like your mom very much.” Cleo bit her lip.

“Me neither.”

“That makes three of us,” Harrison’s voice added from the doorway.

Rosemary’s head pulled toward him like it was being controlled by a rubber band. “When did you get there?” She usually sensed him, but she was so focused on the call she hadn’t noticed his arrival.

“I heard the phone ring while I was walking up,” he admitted.

“Great.” So he’d heard the whole thing.

Cleo looked at him hopefully. “Can you take me for a walk and show me housekeeping? You said you would last time but we had to come back first.”

“You want to see where they do laundry?” His brows V-ed over his eyes.

“She’s bored stiff and I’m trying to finish this order,” Rosemary explained. “It really has to go in today.”

“Ah, in that case, my little friend, let us go seek the secrets of the laundry machines.” He held out a hand for her.

“Clean up your books first,” Rosemary said as Cleo stood.

“Of course,” she grumbled, but complied.

Harrison winked at Rosemary. “Ten minutes, fifteen tops. Will that be enough?”

“Plenty. Thanks.” She watched them go, then turned back to her forms. She didn’t know if she would be able to concentrate enough to finish the order before he got back, though. Not with Wanda’s whining voice in her head. She’d been firm, but it still twisted her up inside. The last thing she needed was for Wanda to start harassing her at work. It was why she had added Wanda’s number to her cell phone’s blocked call list—no messages. Rosemary wondered if there was a way to block her calls on the main hotel lines.

She pushed the thought away and forced herself to focus on what she needed to do so she could take Cleo home.