The Family You Choose (19 page)

"I know what my loyalty to Stephen is
supposed to be, and I’m not betraying it. But you...there’s just no
good reason for a man like you to go after me, given the
circumstances, as you say."

Alex took a step closer. "Maybe you were
right last week. Maybe I was trying to get something off of
Stephen. And maybe you’re right now. I do need a good reason to do
something like this."

She tilted her chin up. "And what might that
be?"

"How about that I can’t stop thinking about
you? How about that I have a whole list of numbers I could call to
take my mind off of you, and it hasn’t worked? How about that for
the first time in my life I’m having trouble sleeping? I’ve done
some things, Ms. Hamilton, which I’m not very proud of, but I
usually sleep pretty goddamn well. Not this week. And why? Because
I keep seeing those gorgeous green eyes of yours, and I keep seeing
your smile, and I keep hearing your voice. Is that a good
reason?"

"Maybe you’re just not used to hearing no,
Mr. Sheldon. Maybe that’s why you can’t sleep."

"I’ve heard
no
many times in my life.
Out loud and unspoken. I don’t usually listen, or I find a way
around it."

"Much like now."

"I don’t usually tell my opponent that I’m
not listening." He bit the inside of his cheek. "And I’m hoping you
don’t see me that way."

"What do you want?"

He opened his eyes. "Maybe if you stop saying
no, I’ll be able to get some sleep."

Tatiana laughed in surprise. She wasn’t
offended. "And maybe if I say yes you’ll tell Stephen."

He shook his head. "I won’t. I can’t prove
it. That’s not what this is about. But you’re just going to have to
trust me, or not."

"I could just tell Stephen that you won’t
leave me alone."

"That occurred to me too." His voice was
lower. "And apparently you haven’t. If you had, I might not be able
to stand on this street corner, or anywhere else for that matter.
Stephen’s a big guy, and I’ve also been grateful to have him on my
side." Now it was his turn to smile. "Why didn’t you, if that would
have solved everything?"

"Maybe I don’t want Stephen to have to give
up his best friend. He talks about you all the time."

"That’s pretty generous of you." She was
silent. "Or maybe it’s something else?"

"What do you want, Alex?"

"No more games."

"No promises."

"I want to see you tomorrow."

"That might be hard to arrange."

"Then the next day. Or the day after that. I
don’t care, you pick."

She didn’t say anything, but held his gaze
for a few moments. "Thursday," she said at last. "But it has to be
earlier."

She understood, he understood. "Fine."

"Where?"

He took out another card and wrote an
address. "There. Nine o’clock, Thursday."

She took the card and nodded. "Nine o’clock,"
she repeated. "Thursday."

"And don’t be late."

"No promises," she said quietly as she walked
away.

~~~

It was nine-ten when Tatiana got to the Park
Plaza on Thursday. She went up the elevator and into the appointed
room. Alex, tall, dark and handsome, was waiting for her. She
leaned against the door and looked at him. Then she saw the black
roses. "Wow," she gasped. "Those are beautiful."

"I’m glad you like them," he said, moving
towards her. "They seemed to suit you."

"How so?" she whispered as he got closer.

"Rare and beautiful." He leaned in. "And
maybe a little frightening," he whispered before he kissed her.

At eleven, Tatiana was resting against Alex’s
shoulder on the large bed in the hotel room. Alex sighed.

"Why did you come here?" he asked, playing
with her hair.

"Because I wanted to."

"Why?"

"Oh, boy—how much ego stroking do you need?"
she said teasingly before she kissed him. "You know you’re a very
handsome man."

"I never really cared before," he said. "It
was just one more thing to help me get what I wanted. But if you
think I’m handsome," he kissed her, "that’s helpful in an
altogether different kind of way."

She kissed him for a few minutes more, before
pulling away. "I’m sorry, I have to go," she said. She sat up and
started getting dressed. He sat up and traced his fingers down her
spine. "And if you do that," she said without turning around, "then
I’m going to have a little trouble getting dressed."

He kissed her shoulder. "Then don’t get
dressed."

"Don’t you have somewhere you need to
be?"

"Like I said, I’m the boss."

She shook her head and stood up to finish
getting dressed. "What if I want to see you again?" he said as she
started putting on her coat.

She froze. "I thought that was part of the
point of being here, Alex. Now we’ll both be out of each other’s
systems."

"Oh," Alex laughed. "Is that what we were
trying to do? I’m sorry, I think we failed."

He stood up, naked. He put his arms around
her and kissed her. She kissed him back. He held her face. She
grabbed his hips. Then she pulled away. She closed her eyes.

"I think this is getting too complicated,"
she whispered.

"Sorry, wouldn’t want to be a
complication."

"I have to go."

"I’m not stopping you."

"Good." She kissed him again. He laughed.

She pulled away again. "Good bye, Alex." She
turned around stopping when he put his hand on her shoulder.

"See me again," he said simply.

"Probably not a good idea," she said after a
moment.

"So say no." She was silent. "Let’s make a
deal. I’ll have this same room next week; same day, same time. And
I’ll be here from nine to ten. And if you don’t come by ten, then
I’ll go. And I won’t bother you. And I won’t tell Stephen."

"And if I do?" she said, still facing the
door.

"Then maybe this is different than what you
thought it was going to be."

"And you really get off on surprises, don’t
you?" she said before she let herself out.

Michael did manage to call into work on
Monday afternoon. "There now," he said, coming back to bed. "Do I
get a reward for being a responsible boy?"

"Are you in trouble with them?"

He scowled. "Why are you so worried about my
work?"

"You do realize that Alex is going to cut you
off now?"

"Fortunately my grandfather Abbot paid the
mortgage on this place years ago. In fact, I don’t think there even
was a mortgage."

"I’ve noticed that you have expensive
habits—if not tastes."

"I’ll downgrade to beer."

"And the travel."

"All of it business from now on."

"The filet mignon."

"I could probably get by with chicken."

"The clothes—oh never mind, you have lousy
taste in clothing."

"See? It will all work out."

"The clubbing? The drugs?" She paused, then
smiled crookedly. "The girls?"

"All of it was strictly recreational. I can
try the Internet."

"I think the internet can get pretty pricey
if you screw around too much."

"Alright, books and television it is."

"Michael, I’m serious. You know Alex isn’t
going to be merciful."

"Are you really worried about anything other
than the women?"

"Don’t flatter yourself. And sorry, but if
they’re under eighteen, they’re girls."

"You do care, or you don’t care?"

"I care...about you not having to mortgage
your father’s house so you can snort and screw your way through
your misery."

"How about I worry about the former and you
worry about the latter?"

"Oh, shut up!" She tried to get up, but he
wouldn’t let her. "And don’t try and be a brute, because I think I
could beat you up with that concussion."

"Only if you wanted to."

He hovered over her, and she smiled and
touched his face. "You need to worry."

"Trust me; I’ve worried my whole life." He
kissed her, but then he pulled up. "And what are you going to
do?"

She smiled. "I suppose you never thought
about that before, hmm? Or did you hope I’d go back to being a—what
was it again—‘piece of charity trash?’"

"How old was I when I said that?"

"Wasn’t it just last week that you called me
a parasite?"

"Anyone ever tell you that you like to
belabor a point?"

"Anyone tell you that you’re incapable of an
apology?"

"I thought my apology was understood to be
global."

"I guess I’m too much of a princess to let
you off the hook so easily."

"Miranda, what are you going to do?"

She sighed. "Well, I think college is over as
of now, at least for a little while. I’m pretty sure Zainab will
let me stay there for a while—God knows she was generous with
Emily—but she’s going to have to leave at some point. I could
probably get a job from Richard or, God forbid, Lucy. And I can go
to Israel. Maybe that’s what I should do. And if all else fails,
I’m pretty sure the title to that little cottage in Magnolia is in
my name, unless Alex lied about that too. Last resort, but it’s a
pretty little town."

"So you’ve got it all figured out."

"And let’s not forget eBay—I mean, God knows
I’ve got plenty of expensive things sitting in my closet that I
could get rid of."

"Will you stop it?" Michael blurted out
suddenly.

Miranda pulled back and laughed. "What is
your problem?"

"You don’t have to sell anything and you
don’t have to go to a foreign country or get a job from Lucy. I’ll
take care of you."

"No, you won’t!" she said, sitting up. "I
don’t need to be taken care of. I am not a child, and I don’t want
to be a kept woman. Besides which, I’m still not convinced that you
can afford to keep your house, much less another person."

"I have a job," he repeated. "A good
one."

"Right, because Alex has never screwed
someone out of a job."

"Not this time."

"And how can you be so sure?"

"Let’s just say I’ve been privy to a lot of
information since I took this job, and I bet there’s a bunch of
things Alex wouldn’t want made public."

"See, when you say stuff like that, it just
sounds creepy."

"But what about when I do stuff like this?"
He kissed her again, so well that her toes tingled. "Well?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I’m not sure. That
might be creepy too."

He smiled. "Good creepy?"

Emily spent Sunday as she had Saturday. She
had prayed that if she stayed in bed, if she took it easy, that
she’d be able to go to work on Monday.

No such luck. She woke up at five to throw
up, then got up again every half-hour after that to vomit some
more. At seven-thirty, Mitch shook his head. He dialed his phone.
"Hi Professor Hazlett, this is Mitch Graham. I’m sorry to bother
you, but I wanted to let you know that Emily came down with
something, and I don’t think she’s going to make it in today or
tomorrow. Yeah, if she’s not better by tomorrow morning, she’ll go
to the doctor. Okay, I’ll give you an update then. Thanks a lot."
He hung up the phone and knew by Emily’s pained groan that she
appreciated the assist.

"I’m staying home," he said.

"No," she managed painfully. "You have to go
to class."

"I can’t leave you like this. You’re getting
too weak."

She managed one word. "Zainab," she whispered
before drifting off.

Always thinking
. Mitch covered Emily
up. "Good plan, honey."

Mitch dialed Zainab’s number. "Miranda?" she
said as soon as she picked up.

Mitch looked at the phone, then looked at the
number he just dialed. "Um, no. It’s Mitch. Can’t you see the
numbers on your cell?"

"Yes," Zainab said with a sigh. "Sorry, I’m
expecting a call from her, and she’s a little late."

Mitch furrowed his brow. "Does this have
anything to do with her calling from your place on Saturday?"

"Possibly."

"Okay." He’d get the story later. "I need
your help. Emily needs your help."

"Mitch, what’s wrong? Is she okay?"

Mitch looked at his wife, who seemed to have
lost about five pounds in three days. "Not really. Can you come
over?"

"Oh, hon, I wish I could, but I can’t leave
Jessie. Have Emily come here."

"That is so not an option right now." He took
a deep breath. "Can I come to you?"

Zainab waited a moment. "Let’s say yes. I’ll
call Richard and the doctor just to double-check, but if I don’t
call you back, assume it’s okay."

"Thanks Z." Mitch hung up and put out some
ice for Emily, then kissed her on her hair.

~~~

When Mitch got to Richard’s house an hour
later, he was surprised to see a security guard at the door.

"Can I help you?" the guard said.

"Yeah, please. I need to see Zainab."

"Is she expecting you?" he said in a rough
but professional tone.

"Yes. I just called her an hour ago."

"Your name?"

"Mitchell Graham."

"Alright, let me check this out." He dialed
his cell phone. Mitch heard the phone ring inside. "You have a
guest here by the name of Mitchell Graham?" The guard nodded,
hanging up. "Alright, Mr. Graham, you can go right in."

The guard opened the door. Mitch walked in,
wondering if Zainab was playing an elaborate practical joke. Before
he could say anything, he saw Jessie sitting on the couch, watching
television. Her hair was up, and she was wearing a white tee-shirt
and white sweatpants. She was pale, and looked like she might have
lost a few pounds herself. She turned in his direction. "Hi," she
said simply. "Who are you?"

Mitch blinked. "I’m Mitch. I’m a friend of
Zainab’s. I hope you don’t mind me visiting her now."

Jessie nodded. "That’s okay. It’s nice to see
people. Richard’s away this week." She squinted her eyes. "You
remind me of someone. Are you sure your name isn’t Martin?"