The Do-Over (22 page)

“I’m her boyfriend. It’s nice to meet you,” Kyle said, extending his hand. He had an urgent desire to make sure this woman understood exactly what their relationship meant, even if Kyle had no idea himself. She regarded him coolly but nodded her head, pressing her manicured hand to her styled hair instead of taking his hand.

“Delaney, please get drinks for our guests. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Cassie, come help me.”

Lanie took Kyle’s and Brad’s drink requests. Kyle looked around the sumptuous living room, where every wall and table was filled with knickknacks and artwork. Brad was going on about some trade the Bears had made. Kyle gave him obligatory answers when needed so he was part of the conversation. Really though, he was scrutinizing the room. There were tons of photos of Cassie in all stages of her life—baby Cassie in pink bows with a missing tooth; little girl Cassie at a dance recital, wearing a white ballerina skirt; teenage Cassie as a cheerleader; high school Cassie at prom. There were family photos of baby Cassie with Mom and Dad too. Kyle searched around in a sort of scavenger hunt for photos of Lanie. He only found one in a small plain brown frame, angled behind a credenza, dwarfed against much larger photos of Cassie. He picked it up, staring at Lanie in her Harvard crimson cap and gown. Cassie and Ellen flanked her, looking stiff and bored. Even Lanie didn’t look very happy. Despite that, Kyle found himself smiling with pride. She’d graduated summa cum laude. His girlfriend was so smart.
Girlfriend?

She came behind him with his drink.

“Lanie, why aren’t there more photos of you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t like having my picture taken.”

He accepted the answer but doubted it. Little girls usually didn’t mind photos.

Dinner was served on a large mahogany table in a paisley-wallpapered dining room. Following Lanie’s lead, Kyle rarely interjected in the conversation. Ellen Miller was completely smitten with Brad. She asked him about his job, his family, and his tastes. Brad’s responses were congenial, but even he was getting uncomfortable with the way she was hanging on his every word.

“Mom, guess what? Rue Morrow came in the store, and I helped her pick out eyeliner!”

“Who is Rue Morrow?” Kyle asked.

Cassie looked at him in disbelief as she explained Rue Morrow was a pseudocelebrity, having been on a reality show for a few weeks.

“That’s wonderful, Cassie. It’s easy to see why she’d ask you. You have such good taste in these things. Imagine, my daughter helping a celebrity!” Ellen Miller squealed.

“Recent research shows that seventy-five percent of women now seek help from a professional like me for their cosmetic choices,” Cassie said with a proud grin.

Kyle couldn’t contain himself anymore. “That’s really interesting because I just read that two-thirds of all statistics are fake.”

Lanie muffled her laugh with her napkin. Brad couldn’t contain his chuckle even though he tried. Mama Miller and Cassie just scowled at Kyle. He wasn’t sure if it was because they got the joke or didn’t. Either way, it didn’t matter. He’d succeeded in making Lanie smile at least. She’d been tenser than he’d ever seen her, and that was saying a lot.

“Go on with your story, Cassie. I want to hear all about it,” Ellen Miller said, patting her daughter on the back. Cassie did, reciting every tiny detail and making what was probably a ten-minute exchange into a thirty-minute story.

“You know who Lanie met with last week? Rahm Emanuel. Now there’s a celebrity,” Kyle finally said as soon as Cassie finished.

“Who is Rahm Emanuel?” Cassie asked, glaring at Kyle, obviously annoyed at him for deflecting her moment.

Kyle blinked in surprise. He knew Cassie wasn’t bright, but he’d expected her to recognize the name. “He’s the mayor of our city.”

Lanie stiffened next to him. “It’s not a big deal. There’s a disgruntled city employee, and I’m handling the case.”

“It is a really big deal. How many associates can litigate a case like that?” Kyle said, squeezing Lanie’s hand.

“Lanie’s one of the best lawyers we have,” Brad added. Kyle felt a mixture of annoyance and gratitude toward Brad at that moment. Annoyance because he didn’t want Brad praising Lanie. That was his job. Gratitude because he relished the envious expression on Cassie’s face. He was completely confused, though, by the irritated look on Ellen Miller’s face.

“Yes, that’s a very generous compliment, Brad. Tell me more about what you do at the firm. It must be very interesting.” She leaned toward him, resting her chin on her perfectly manicured folded hands. Was this really happening? Ellen Miller was an exact replica of Cassie in every way. Kyle felt a searing desire to scream at all of them. Lanie’s childhood must have been a nightmare, being subjected to these two self-obsessed, vain women.

“Lanie, you’re coming shopping on Sunday, right?” Cassie asked, once Brad was done droning on about his work at the firm. Cassie looked between her mother and Lanie with a smug expression. It was apparent to Kyle she was lighting the tinder for some drama.

“Um, I can’t,” Lanie replied and bit her lip. Kyle knew that look. She was lying. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to go with them. Cassie had picked out that awful nightgown. He couldn’t imagine how inferior they would make her feel during a shopping trip.

“You’re coming, and don’t use work as an excuse this time. You always try to find a way to get out of it. I think that outfit doesn’t quite suit you, and you’ll need Cassie’s expertise,” Ellen said haughtily.

Lanie looked beautiful to Kyle in her blue shirtdress and black boots. In fact, he toyed with the idea of taking her into the bathroom to have his way with her. The reason Ellen Miller didn’t like the outfit was because Lanie looked more stylish than Cassie. In some sick, twisted way, that bothered her.

Kyle cleared his throat. “I’m taking Lanie to the football game on Sunday.”

Everyone’s expressions spoke volumes at the simple statement. Lanie was confused, and she should have been since the Bears weren’t playing at home. Brad looked ready to correct Kyle but stopped when Kyle shot him a venomous glance. Cassie and Ellen weren’t fans, so they didn’t feign expressions of suspicion, but they seemed disappointed. Kyle suspected it had nothing to do with not spending time with Lanie. It was something else…something menacing. In fact, Ellen had been rather cold to Kyle, clearly an extension of how she treated her daughter.

“Football?” Ellen said as if Kyle had told her they were going skinny-dipping in a lake.

“Yes, Mom, football. You know I watch it,” Lanie said, picking up on Kyle’s cover. Kyle moved his hand to her knee to still her shaking.

“That’s right. You’ve always enjoyed that stupid game…just like your father.”

The change in Lanie was so sharp that even Brad asked her if she was all right. She went ramrod straight, jerked her knee away from Kyle, and took a long, nervous sip of her water. Being compared to her father was no compliment. Kyle wanted to put his arms around her and soothe her, but her posture was so guarded he thought it best to keep his hands to himself and his mouth shut. He didn’t want to upset her any more than she was. When the painful dinner was finally over, Lanie walked Kyle to his car. She kissed him on the cheek, but he pulled her close to him and embraced her. She was so rigid he thought she might snap in two. “Come over tonight,” he whispered in her ear.

“Not tonight,” Lanie said, burying her face in his chest.

“I want to see you, sweetheart.” He had so many questions that he had a difficult time containing them. He wanted to help her, to hold her, to tell her how wonderful she was. That she was better than these people.

“Kyle, I don’t think I’d be very good company. I need to decompress after seeing my mother,” she replied sullenly, pulling away from him.

“We can decompress together.” He didn’t mean it to sound sexual, but he knew that’s what Lanie was thinking by her sarcastic smile. He decided to pull out the big guns. “I have ice cream,” he said in a singsong voice.

“You do?” she asked, giving him a genuine smile.

“Your favorite kind and hot fudge too. Maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you lick it off me.” Okay, that was definitely sexual, but at least it got Lanie to laugh. He picked up her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing every finger. “Come on, Lanie. I want to be with you tonight.”

“Are you bribing me?”

“It’s coercion at best,” he said, placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I guess I’m coerced then.”

* * * *

Lanie stood in front of Kyle’s door, allowing herself a deep breath. She had contemplated canceling, mortified he’d witnessed the bizarre dinner. Even Brad pulled her aside, asking if she was all right, and he was usually oblivious to her feelings. In contrast, Kyle picked up on everything, and that worried Lanie, but she wanted to see him regardless. He was the one person who could make her feel better.

He opened the door in his boxers and no shirt. She stared at his muscular chest, with its perfect proportions and six-pack abs, feeling the now familiar flush that crept along her neck in his presence. Before she could form any words, he pulled her inside the door and embraced her.

“You look so sad,” he said. She knew she looked like a mess, but she’d tried to conceal her blotchy eyes with drops before coming over. He took her overnight bag, placing his other arm over her shoulder, and guided her to the couch. She sat on the far end, wishing she could fall into the crevice between the arm and cushion. He took the other end, patiently waiting for an explanation.

“What’s going on?” he finally asked. It was a loaded question, and she knew it, but she wasn’t sure how to answer it. He’d already seen her at her worst, but this would surely drive him away. Right now she so desperately needed his friendship that she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it.

“I don’t understand your question.”

He sighed in exasperation, running his hands through his thick black hair. “Why are there hardly any photos of you? Why did we spend an hour talking about eyeliner when you’re about to blow the lid off a huge case? Why does your mother treat you like an annoyance instead of the brilliant woman you are? You have to know your family’s not normal.”

Her nails dug into the flesh of her palms as she clenched her fist. “Is your family normal?” It was a mean question and she knew it, but she didn’t want to open the rest of her scars to him. He’d accepted the physical one, and that was enough for her.

“You know it’s not.”

“Okay, so we’re both a little fucked-up. Can we just leave it at that?” She didn’t know why he kept pressing her. She just wanted to eat ice cream off his sculpted body and go to bed like any normal girl.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve never told anyone about the cabin, but it helped me to talk about it with you. Let me help you…please.” He looked at her like he had that day, full of tenderness and affection.

“Why?” she demanded, feeling her lip quiver and cursing herself for it.

“Because we’re friends first, and I know you’re hurting. I don’t like to see you in pain.” There was such a sincerity in the statement that she felt herself open to the idea of sharing her secrets for the first time in her life.

She grabbed a cushion, gripping it tightly in her hand and looking away from him because it was easier to stare at anything else than risk seeing the look of horror in his eyes when she told him.

“Cassie and I have different fathers.”

“I figured from the different last names.”

She swallowed. “Cassie’s father was apparently a very hardworking and caring man. He and my mother were high school sweethearts, and they loved each other very much. “

“Wait a minute…Cassie’s older than you?” he asked with disbelief. Lanie looked up at him, finding her fear competing with her temper.

“Yes, she’s two years older than me, but I’ll try not to be offended by your shock.” He looked so contrite that she offered him a small smile.

He offered his own. “It’s not that you look older than her, but you definitely act it.” He scooted closer to her, placing his hand near her knee but not touching it. She knew he was letting her dictate whether she wanted to hold it. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Cassie’s father died in a car accident. My mother met my father. He married her because she was pregnant with me, and I’m pretty sure she married him for his money. They never loved each other.” Her voice was taking on that choked sound she hated, the one that foreshadowed tears.

“Would you like a glass of water?”

She nodded, relieved for the small respite in telling her twisted tale.

He returned and placed the glass in her hand, which trembled, almost causing a few drops to spill. He steadied her hand with his and helped her bring it to her lips. She drank it all, not realizing how thirsty she was.

He sat next to her silently, waiting for her to continue.

“We lived in Racine then. My father wasn’t a good man… That’s an understatement. He was pure evil. He was a lazy, abusive alcoholic who enjoyed tormenting us. I don’t remember all the details, but I know our lives were hell until…until he got arrested. It’s funny the secret lives people lead. Everyone knew my father was the biggest jackass, but no one suspected he was a rapist.”

“A rapist?” Kyle asked. She noticed he clenched his own hands, and the look on his face registered anger, but she knew it wasn’t aimed at her.

“A serial rapist actually. They caught him, but it was a huge embarrassment for my mother and Cassie. She forgave his sins when they were concealed within the walls of our house, but when they became a public spectacle, it almost destroyed her.”

Lanie saw the realization as it flickered across his face. His eyes widened as his fists tightened. “Are you trying to tell me your father was the Racine Rapist? Deland Carmichael?” She nodded, unsurprised Kyle knew her father’s name. He was a journalist after all.

She felt her lips tremble again, and she swallowed, trying to drown the lump in her throat. “I was named after him. There were sixteen victims as far as we know, some of them underage. My mother moved us here afterward. We never spoke about it, and she changed her last name back to her first husband’s.”