Risk (It's Complicated Book 2) (12 page)

Look at those
shoulders
!

Was there an ounce of fat
anywhere
on him?

The truth was, seeing him today reminded her way too much of how he’d looked the night of Carolyn and V.J.’s wedding.

“The partners?” she asked, doing her best to refocus on Carmen. “What are they meeting for?”

“I assume it’s about us,” Carmen said. “They’re probably going to start our evaluations and look at our hours for the year.”

“Great,” Angela said. “My hours are going to suck, what with planning the funeral and taking Maya and everything. And after all this, I couldn’t care less about making partner.”

Carmen raised an eyebrow. “Get real, Angela. You’re the most ambitious person I know. You care, trust me.”

Angela waved a hand. “Did you get those guardianship papers drawn up for me yet?”

“Yeah. They’re ready to file whenever you want.”

“Good.” Angela scanned the room and found Vincent, ever the charming host, even at his own son’s funeral, pouring coffee into some woman’s raised cup. “I’ll mention it to Vincent first, but I don’t think he’ll object. He’s too old and sick to take her.”

“Fine. Is Maya in school today?”

“Yeah,” Angela said. “I didn’t think it was a good idea to have her here and—
oh, shit
.”

Ronnie, wearing the requisite dark suit and tie, stepped into the room and scanned the crowd.

Angela gasped. “What’s he
doing
here?”

“Well, obviously he’s come to pay his respects,” Carmen said. “If you’d followed my advice at church and just spoken to him instead of ignoring him like a two-year-old, he wouldn’t have had to follow you here.”

“
Respects?
” Angela tried to shrink lower against the cushions. “Why do I want
respects
from the man who just dumped me for some other woman?”

“Shhh!” Carmen cried, grabbing her arm. “Here he comes.”

Sure enough, Ronnie had spotted them and his thin lips widened into a strained smile as he approached.

“Hello, Carmen,” he said, stopping in front of them.

“Ron,” Carmen said coolly.

His gaze shifted to Angela. “Hey,” he said softly. “Do you have a few minutes?”

A
ngela led
Ronnie to a relatively quiet spot near a twelve-foot ficus tree in the solarium.

She turned to face him, semi-regretting her earlier rudeness. He wasn’t a monster, after all, even if he
was
a lying, cheating dog, and he would want to give his condolences.

“You really didn’t have to come, but thanks,” she said.

Ronnie gaped. “You
know
how much I care about you. Why wouldn’t I come?”

Whatever momentary goodwill she’d felt toward Ronnie imploded like a skyscraper upon demolition, leaving only a hazy red anger that clouded her vision. “What would make me think? Hmmm, let me see. Maybe it was when you dumped me at a restaurant the other night. Or—”

Ronnie dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

“—maybe it was when you lied right to my face and told me there was no one else.”

Ronnie stiffened like a bunny that’d wandered onto the tracks ahead of a speeding train.

Bingo
.

Angela made a show of nodding thoughtfully, tapping her index finger to her lips.

“No, wait. I’m
pretty
sure it was when I saw you grinding up against that woman in the hospital parking lot the night my sister died. Yeah. That was
probably it
.”

Her voice rose at the end. She realized, too late, that several people were staring at her for disturbing the quiet.

Worse, Justus strode over and leaned against the doorframe ten feet away, the better to openly monitor the situation.

Pointedly turning her back on him, Angela focused on Ronnie. “Would you just leave? Please? Today is hard enough already.”

Ronnie had the decency to look stricken. “I—I’m sorry, Angela,” he said. “I didn’t mean for you to find out about Brianna and me like that—”

“
Brianna
,” she echoed faintly, feeling sick.

So it was already
Brianna and me,
was it? Last week it would have been
Angela and me
, but look how quickly and efficiently she’d been replaced.

Wow.

If anyone had ever asked her, she would have sworn both that Ronnie would never dump her, and that if he did, he would at least wait until her side of his bed was cold before he replaced her.

You’re 0-2, aren’t you, girl?

So here was proof that he’d probably been sleeping with his little Brianna for a while. Didn’t take long. The only small solace Angela had was that she’d always insisted that Ronnie use condoms with her. Now she wouldn’t have to worry about getting tested for STDs on top of everything else.

Funny, though.

She couldn’t recall the last time she and Ronnie had made love.

“Brianna...and you?” she asked.

“I’m handling this all wrong.” Ronnie stepped closer and put a light hand on her arm. “I didn’t mean—”

“
Don’t touch me
.” She snatched her arm away, earning more curious looks from the bystanders.

One woman sitting on a settee to her right said, “My goodness,” with exaggerated concern, to Angela’s further embarrassment.

Ronnie jerked his hands back. “I didn’t mean—”

“Is there a problem?” asked a quiet voice.

Justus’s voice
.

“It’s okay,” Angela said quickly, her knees and voice weakening with relief that she had backup, even though she instinctively knew that it would take very little for Justus to reach his breaking point with Ronnie today, and that would be
bad
. “I can handle it. Really.”

His expression unfathomable, Justus took Angela’s elbow and gently pulled her back and away from Ronnie.

Then he squared off with Ronnie and stretched to his full height, a sight as impressive and menacing as a cobra unfurling its hood and spitting.

Ronnie, who’d turned distinctly pale, stuck out a hand. “Justus,” he said in his crisp doctor’s voice. “I was so sorry to hear about your brother. I liked him. A lot.”

Justus stared at Ronnie as though Ronnie had fresh shit squished between his outstretched fingers.

Ronnie, slowly getting the message, dropped his hand.

“You’re upsetting Angela,” Justus said in a voice like death encased in ice. “It’s time for you to leave.”

Ronnie’s gaze, speculative now, swung back and forth between Justus and Angela before settling on her. “What’s this about, Angela?” he asked. “Maybe you’ve been keeping a few secrets yourself.”

Angela all but choked on her outrage. How could Ronnie have the nerve—the absolute
gall
!—to throw nasty little stones when he lived in a glass house? She glanced to Justus, more than a little worried he was about to swing for Ronnie’s accusatory face, but Justus merely watched her, as though he was as curious about her answer as Ronnie was.

“My relationship with Justus is none of your freaking business,” she told Ronnie. “And you need to leave. Now.”

“Angela...” Ronnie began beseechingly.

She raised a hand to stop him. “We don’t have anything else to talk about.
Leave
.”

Ronnie hesitated, opening his mouth.

“Don’t make me call the police,” she warned.

Without another word, Ronnie turned and walked off. Angela didn’t want to take any chances, so she kept an eye on his departing figure until he walked out the side door.

“Punk-ass bitch,” Justus muttered as the door shut behind Ronnie.

Angela smoothed her ponytail with a shaky hand, thoroughly unnerved. “Yeah, well, even though you interrupted a private conversation, and even though I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, I’d like to thank you for—”

Justus leveled his flashing black gaze on her. “You wanted to
marry
that guy?”

Once again, Angela bristled at this attack on the man she’d invested so much time in. “Excuse me, but I—”

“Because he doesn’t give a
shit
about you, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“He wasn’t
all
bad,” she said. “He was chief resident and he’s got a great job now. Plus, he’s active in his church—”

“I don’t want his résumé,” Justus snarled. “I know he looks good on paper! But did you ever look beyond that and see he doesn’t give a damn about what you need? Why else would he show up here when he knew you didn’t want him to come? Huh?”

“Well...”

“I’ll bet your whole little relationship was like that, wasn’t it?”

Angela’s mind veered off onto the times she’d asked Ronnie if they could vacation somewhere else besides Martha’s Vineyard, only to be shot down. And the times she’d wanted to try a new restaurant, play, or hobby, only to have Ronnie talk her out of it. And the times—way too numerous to count—she’d tried to talk with him about her day, her clients or her work pressures, only to have him roll his eyes and say she didn’t know anything about pressures because she didn’t have people’s lives in her hands. Like Ronnie did.

To her horror, Justus’s expression had morphed into pity.

She much preferred the anger.

“You don’t know anything about it,” she snapped.

Justus stared her in the face. “I know you’re a million times too good for him. I hope you know it, too.”

The intensity fueling his emotion was way too much for her right now. “I’m
okay
,” she insisted, turning away.

But he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, startling her.

“Don’t let—
look at me
,” he commanded.

He waited until she complied and raised her defiant gaze to his.

And when she did? Staring into his turbulent brown eyes, it was like...

Honest to God, in that one bewildering moment, it was like the entire universe was there, concentrated in this young man’s face, waiting for her to notice.

“
Justus
,” she said helplessly.

“Don’t let him hurt you again,” he said. “Never. Again. You feel me?”

All she could do was nod.

Something in his expression softened. He stepped closer, opening his mouth.

She stepped closer and tipped her chin up, eager to hear anything he had to say in this heated moment...

“Here you are!” cried a syrupy female voice behind them.

And there, Angela realized with a cold swoop of annoyance, was Justus’s friend with benefits (Janet? Justine? Janice?), wearing a skimpy blue dress and striding into the solarium on her six-inch heels.

* * *

J
anet turned
on Justus as soon as Angela excused herself and strode off.

“What’s going on with you and that woman?” she demanded. “I
knew
something was going on with you two. I could tell by the way you were looking at her the other night at the restaurant. And then you went into the ladies’ room and were holed up with her for half the night, and you’re trying to act like it’s no big deal. I’m not
stupid
, Justus. I want to know what’s going on.”

“Nothing,” he said, which was technically true.

Well, okay, it was a complete lie. He just didn’t see any need to do a Jimmy Carter and confess he was lusting in his heart after Angela.

“Oh, really?” Janet folded her arms over her chest and her voice went up a screechy octave. “So what did she mean by that just now—‘
I’ll see you later
’?”

Justus threw his temper into lockdown, a difficult task considering he didn’t like being interrogated, especially by a woman with whom he was having, at best, a casual sexual relationship. He kept his voice low and deliberate.

“I suppose it means she’ll see me later.”

“You’re fucking her, aren’t you?” asked Janet, the very soul of class.

With that one sentence, Justus hit his lifetime limit of Janet.

Enough was enough.

What had started out a few weeks ago as a perfectly pleasant seduction between him and Janet had lately turned into an ongoing interrogation worthy of the top CIA operatives in the business. Where was he? Why hadn’t he called? Why didn’t he return each of her four million daily texts within thirty seconds of her sending them? Why didn’t he stay the night? Who was that girl? Who was
that
one?

And all this when they’d agreed
up front
that all they wanted from each other was sex?

Hell no.

And now here she was, grilling him about his nonexistent extracurricular activities at his brother’s funeral?

Hell fucking no.

“You need to back off,” he said quietly, intending to dump her later, in private. “And I need to talk to some of the guests.”

Janet seemed to realize she’d gone too far, and did her best to mitigate the damage. “Justus—wait.” Smoothing her voice out, she flashed him a seductive smile. “Should I come over later?”

Justus sighed and took a breath. Janet had turned into a pain in the ass, but that was no reason for him to be cruel.

“I don’t think so,” he said gently, maintaining eye contact so she’d get the picture.

The silence grew, eventually becoming awkward, while tears formed in her eyes.

“I’ll call you, then,” she said.

Justus dropped his head, his jaw flexing. He thought of sugarcoating things, of saying,
Yeah, great, call me
, then ignoring her when she did.

But that was the coward’s way out, and he wasn’t a coward.

“I’ll understand if you’re too busy to call, Janet.”

Painful comprehension finally appeared in her eyes.

“Fine,” she snapped, looking away.

He hesitated. So...were they done here?

Looked like it, he decided, giving himself permission to leave, determined to make his escape before anything else went south.

“Take care of yourself, Janet.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and walked off as quickly as he could, already scanning the room for Angela.

* * *

W
hile Vincent ushered
the last of the guests to the door at three fifteen, Angela, feeling tired but strangely peaceful, wandered through the French doors into the elaborate courtyard. English ivy climbed the six-foot wall, creating a secret haven. She sat on one of the wrought-iron benches and watched as water splashed down large flat stones that had been stairstepped into the wall and filled a kidney-shaped koi pond. The sun shone overhead and the sky was a vibrant cerulean.