Rule's Obsession (17 page)

"That's so sweet. Yeah, I think it's a good idea. Are you sure I can't bring anything?"

"Nothing, darling. Just your sweet little self."

"Okay. So, what does 'nothing formal' mean?" Angie asked.

"It means you can dress however you want. Casual."

"What are you going to wear?" Casual in Angie's world meant blue jeans or shorts. But she didn't think Mrs. Rule's idea of casual was the same.

"I'm going to wear a wrap-dress. I've had it for years but it's a classic. It has good lines . . . and I feel really good in it. I'm still at that stage in the relationship where I worry over these things."

Angie heard the excitement in the other woman's voice. "Okay, I'll wear a sundress then. How's that?"

"That sounds fine, darling. I know you'll be adorable. I think Courtney mentioned she's going to wear something along the same lines. Now do you remember how to get to the house?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm sure I'll be able to find it."

Chapter Nine

The rest of the week dragged for Angie. Work was exhausting, and every spare minute she had, she worried about the decision she was going to have to make when Damian returned.

She pretty much already knew that she wanted to move in with him. But she wasn't thrilled about quitting her job. She needed to stand on her own two feet, to make her own money. If something happened to them, if they broke up, she didn't want to be left out in the cold with no income and no place to live.

It occurred to her that she might offer him a compromise. Maybe during the week she could stay at her apartment, but on her days off, she could come stay with him. It wasn't the best idea, but it was all she could come up with. It wasn't really any different than the routine they'd already fallen into, but they'd never acknowledged it out loud.

She held on to the belief that the suggestion might appease him but the text messages she'd received from him during the week made her realize he wouldn't go for the idea.

His first had come the morning after he'd left.
Slept like shit
.

She'd sent back a reply:
I'm sorry. Mattress uncomfortable?

It was fine
.

She keyed in a quick response.
I'm sure it's difficult to be away from home.

His response came back instantaneously
. It's difficult to be away from you
.

Angie read his response and heat bloomed through her veins and in that moment, she decided not to play any more games.
I miss you
.

He hadn't answered, but she figured that he'd either been called away by his business dealings or maybe he thought that his feelings had already been explained. And they had. She knew he missed her.

The next morning his text was more abrasive but no less disconcerting to her.
Why don't you quit that fucking job and catch a flight up here?

Angie stared at the screen while the blood pumped furiously through her veins. She stalled, not knowing how to answer. Seconds turned into minutes and finally, she keyed,
I can't
.

She hadn't heard from him since.

On Saturday night after work, Angie went home and showered and changed clothes before heading to the Rule household. She'd splurged on a spray-tan the day before, and she felt pretty good in her ankle-length summer sundress and sandals. She'd forgotten what it was like to wear color; leaving the black behind almost felt as if she'd come out of mourning.

When she arrived, the door was opened by a man she recognized. He was the same man who'd pulled Courtney from the last party she'd attended, and there was absolutely no doubt in her mind that he was one of Damian's brothers. With the door wide, he stared at her on the threshold and raised a single eyebrow. A stream of shock slid down her spine. The resemblance was uncanny. Both of these Rule men were tall, dark, and undeniably handsome. They both had dark, wavy hair and their skin tone was almost swarthy, as if they belonged to the great American melting pot of ethnicity.

"Hi," she said, almost stumbling over the word as he continued to stare down at her.

He paused in his perusal, and then pushed the door wide. "Come in."

"Thanks."

As she stepped over the threshold and looked around, he said from behind her, "You belong to Damian."

She stopped short and turned to face him. "I don't really belong to anybody."

"
Right."

Before she had time to answer, his mother sailed up with a smile and a champagne glass dangling from her fingers. "Angie, darling." The older woman leaned in and gave Angie an embracing hug that threatened to slosh the liquid from her glass. Angie smiled and hugged her back. "I see you've met my middle son, Nick."

"Oh. Not really." Angie faced the man again and held out her hand, hoping she didn't appear to be as awkward as she felt. "Angie Ross."

He gripped her hand quickly and released her without lingering. "Nick Rule."

Before Angie could say anything more, Justine grabbed her hand and began leading her into the room, while whispering, "He's not for you, darling. We've still got to give Damian time to pull his head from his butt."

The words were so incongruent with the woman's appearance that Angie stumbled and began laughing.

"You think that's funny?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, it's true. He needs to realize that you'd be perfect for him, but in the meantime, come and meet Rick's son, Caiden. He's about your age, maybe a little younger, but he's absolutely adorable."

As Angie was all but dragged across a room full of people and they came to stand in front of Rick and his son, Angie said with a smile, "I already know Rick's son. I'm his stylist, also."

Caiden leaned in and kissed Angie's cheek and then his father followed suit.

"You cut his hair, too?" Mrs. Rule asked and then turned to Rick. "You didn't tell me they knew each other already."

As Angie and Caiden shared a look, she abruptly realized what this was about. Justine was trying to set the two of them up. Would the woman never learn? Finding herself on the receiving end of her manipulations, Angie suddenly realized why his mother drove Damian so crazy.

After chit-chatting a few minutes, the older couple excused themselves and Justine pulled Rick away, undoubtedly trying to give Angie and Caiden some time alone. Angie rolled her eyes and glanced back at Caiden, who she'd known for a good two years. "She's trying to set us up!"

"Actually she's been trying to set me up with every single woman who's here tonight."

"Why?" Angie leaned closer and whispered, "Doesn't she know you're gay?"

He looked taken aback. "Justine? Hell,
my father
doesn't know I'm gay."

Angie glanced back around the room, wondering if she should mind her own business, and saw Courtney speaking to a dark-haired young woman with familiar looking eyes. Caiden noticed her interest and said, "The blonde girl is Courtney, the goddaughter. The brunette is the actual daughter, and her name is Erin."

Angie looked away, not wanting to stare. "I've met Courtney but not Erin."

"Oh, you will. Justine is in her element tonight."

"Don't you like her?" Angie asked, referring to Justine Rule.

"Actually, I do. She's exactly what my father needs, but she is a bit of a match-maker want-to-be, and that's creating a bit of a problem for me."

Angie stopped just short of cringing for the young man and decided she would tell him what she knew, after all. "Hey, let's wander around a bit. I want to tell you something and you may need a bit of privacy for it."

He looked at her with a frown, but he turned and followed her. She stopped and snagged a glass of champagne from a side table, and he did the same. Glancing around as if about to mingle, Angie walked from the room as surreptitiously as possible and headed down a hallway that looked private enough.

She came to an open door that contained a library, and walked inside, Caiden following her. She shut the door and took a sip of the champagne to fortify herself.

"What's up?" he asked.

She attempted to broach the subject slowly. "How long have we known each other?"

He shrugged. "A couple of years, I guess."

She nodded her head and gave him a bittersweet smile. "I like you a lot. I always enjoy cutting your hair. You're cool," she said with a small grin. "I also like your dad."

He frowned as if bracing himself. "Okay?"

"I try to mind my own business, you know?"

Now he was looking really confused. "Spit it out, Angie."

She took a deep breath. "Dude, your father already knows you're gay."

His face paled and he looked cut to the bone. "No way."

She nodded her head sympathetically.

"How do you know?"

She held his eyes as a slice of compassion gentled her voice. "I don't remember the exact conversation. I know it was before I met you. I was cutting your dad's hair one day and he said he had a son who'd just moved back from college and asked me if I could take on another client."

"And?" Caiden prompted.

"I jokingly said something like 'for sure, if he's as good-looking as you are.'"

Angie studied him for a reaction. She didn't know him all that well, but she understood that coming out was something that many people struggled with, especially when it came to their parents.

He winced and asked, "And then?"

"Caiden," she soothed. "It was obvious to me, even then, before I met you, that your father loves you and is proud of you. All he said was, 'Well, my son looks just like me, but don't get your hopes up, the kid's gay." Angie gave him a smile to take away any sting her words may have imparted and then continued, "He said it with so much pride, like you were the light of his life and could do no wrong. It's never occurred to me before tonight that you didn't know that he already knew."

He stumbled back a step and fell onto the sofa. Angie followed to sit beside him, and picked up his hand, patting it gently.

****

Damian walked through the airport parking lot and climbed into his car. He started the motor just as his cell phone rang.

He let the engine idle as he answered the call. "What's up?" he questioned shortly, wanting nothing more than to get back to Angie as quickly as possible.

"And good-
fucking-
evening to you too, big brother," Nick snarled sarcastically.

Damian blew out a breath and attempted a more reasonable tone, even as he put the call on speaker and began to drive. "What's going on, Nick?"

"Where are you? Still in New York?" Nick asked in his usual bored tone of voice.

Damian glanced at the clock on the dash. "No. I'm home. Leaving the airport now."

"Very good.
You
can handle this shit," his brother said curtly.

Irritation bled down Damian's spine. "What shit, exactly?"

"Our dear mother is having a party right about now--"

Irritation turned into frustrated anger
. "Fuck, no."

"Give me a minute. You're going to want to hear what I have to say," Nick replied as if privy to something of importance.

"And what would that be?" Damian asked with little patience.

"Your woman is here," Nick announced blandly.

"My woman?"
Damian asked with a snarl.

"That's what I said, yes."

An edge of aggression raised his hackles. "How do you know about my woman?"

"I saw her here at the last party. She's the one you brought who apparently has you so fucked up that you think nobody notices when you drop off the face of the earth?"

"You're imagining things again, Nick," he denied, not wanting his brother butting into his personal business. "And you weren't even at the last party."

"I may not have shown my face, but I was there. And I saw your woman. I'm referring to the little gothic chick who's not a gothic chick anymore?"

At that spot on description, Damian's nerves took a leap. "What about her?" As he boarded the freeway, sudden tension made him head toward his mother's house instead of Angie's. Even though he didn't care for it, he acknowledged that Nick obviously knew more than Damian thought he did.

"As I was saying, she's here and she is, at this moment, sequestered in the library with a man who, as we both know, isn't you," Nick said in such a over-exaggerated, know-it-all tone that Damian wanted to plant his fist in his brother's face.

Coupled with the need to smack Nick, Damian felt such a vicious jolt of jealousy that he almost swerved the car. He took three deep breaths and concentrated on his driving.

When Damian was silent, Nick continued, "Are you on your way?"

"What do you think?" Damian snarled.

"All right then. I'll see you in a few."