Catch a Falling Star (11 page)

• • •

Brianna watched Mrs. Curtin do her thing in the East Gallery, and clapped heartily when Mr. G was introduced along with his Yuan dynasty plate. She wondered if anyone else knew he’d replaced it with the Maltese Falcon. Almost certainly not.

When the little ceremony was over and Brianna slipped back into the main gallery, she saw Natalie coming in from the courtyard, looking beautiful and glowing and … and like she had been kissing someone.

Brianna grinned. Who on earth … ? There were, like, three eligible men in this crowd, and they were all seventy. Maybe Natalie had been kissing a seventy-year-old. Or maybe one of the valets, which would explain why he’d been distracted enough to create a ding in a $200,000 car.

“Having fun?” she said.

Natalie’s eyes were shining. “It’s everything I thought it would be.”

“I’m so glad,” she said. “I’ve got maybe another hour here and then we can sneak out. You gonna be okay?”

“I’m going to be fine.”

• • •

“Thinking about replacing the Yuan dynasty plate with something else?” Donald asked.

Matthias realized he was staring at what was almost certainly Donald’s grandma’s chamber pot masquerading as a Greek urn. He shook his head. “No, I’ve already replaced the plate.”

“Yeah? I’ll have to stop by and admire.”

That made Matthias laugh. “I’m not sure you’ll admire. How about you? Is Marigold coveting the Romanov tiara?”

“Oh Christ, don’t tell me there’s jewelry. You know all I’ll hear is, ‘But it’s for a good cause’ when really she just likes things that sparkle.”

Matthias thought of Natalie in the courtyard under the fairy lights, her skin bare; no rings, no bracelets, no necklaces, just some discreet pearls in her ears. For a moment he was seized with the wild desire to adorn her, to give her something glittering, to draw people’s eyes. But their eyes were drawn to her anyway; she did not need jewelry to attract attention.

Donald seemed to read his mind because he said, “Who’s the girl?”

Matthias shrugged. “Natalie Johnson. Mrs. Curtin introduced us. Don’t know that much about her except she’s a senior in college.”

“Not doing a lot of talking?” Donald said with a knowing nudge, even though Matthias wasn’t the kind of man who went around making out with women he barely knew. Although that was exactly what he’d done, kissing Natalie in the starlight.

“We danced,” he said.

“Ah, that’s what the kids call it these days?” Donald said and Matthias laughed.

“You really are a pig.”

“Oink, oink,” Donald said. “Oh, there’s Brianna, do you think she can get the waiters to cut Marigold off? Because if she has any more champagne, she’s going to say the hell with restraint and I’ll be the proud possessor of a Romanov tiara.”

• • •

“Good time?” Brianna asked. She turned the heater up full blast because the night had gotten quite crisp, but the little Ford barely spat out a puff of warm air. Someday, when her ship came in …

Natalie had been staring out the passenger side window, her head leaning against the headrest. Now she turned to look at Brianna. “The best,” she said. “You are the best sister ever.”

“Well, we’ve known that all along,” Brianna said. “Although I think you may have had a little too much champagne.”

“Maybe. I feel a little lightheaded.”

“Kissing boys’ll do that,” Brianna said, and Natalie shook her head and said, “How you know these things, I’ll never figure out.”

“Nice guy?”

“Really nice.”

“Glad.”

“Me, too.”

A few minutes later Brianna pulled the Ford into the driveway. She’d left the porch light on, but you couldn’t see the peeling paint in the darkness.

Home.

And huddled on the front step, the devil who had come to spoil it all.

• • •

“I need to start carrying Mace.”

Richard could hear Brianna’s voice carry down the sidewalk, which he guessed he was fully supposed to do.

“I’m going to let the dogs out,” Natalie said. “Good night, Brianna.” She went past him up the steps. She wore an evening gown and looked like a princess. Also acted a bit like one. “Good night, Richard.”

He heard her unlock the front door and go inside, while Brianna stood on the sidewalk, hands on her hips, and glared at him. She was wearing a plain black dress, looking like a Fury.
You should try the princess approach
, he knew a lot better than to say to her.
I can rescue myself,
she would have said, even when she was thirteen.

He guessed the two of them had just come from some shindig put on by the museum where Brianna worked. Since Brianna wasn’t all dolled up like Natalie, that meant she’d probably been in charge of the production. If he were like any other father, he would know where they had gone and why because it was the kind of thing people talked about in families.

Suddenly he was very tired. It must be close to midnight.
About to turn into a pumpkin,
Chrissy used to say with a laugh, slurring her words. He rubbed his hand over his face.

“That Natalie, she’s a good kid.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And she told me you didn’t want her to know but you’re behind on the house payment.”

He could see her stiffen from where he sat, taking it like he’d slapped her. “I sent a payment to the mortgage company,” he said. “Cleared up the arrears and got next month’s in ahead of time. That’ll give you a little breathing room.”

“I don’t want your goddamned help,” she said, and stomped up the porch stairs, barely avoiding stomping on his hand.

“I know you don’t, Bree,” he said. “But I can’t give you those years back. I can’t. Much as I wish I could. And you don’t want nothing to do with me, I see that. I don’t blame you. Not at all. But I’m your daddy, and I gotta do something.”

He stood up and turned to look at her. She was facing the door, and even though he couldn’t see her expression, he could read her back; he could see she was tense with the desire to say something.
Kiss off,
or
go to hell,
or whatever it was. Then her shoulders slumped and she said, “If you got the money from holding up a liquor store, I will kill you myself.”

That was better. Vintage Brianna, but better than
go to hell.
Man couldn’t do much with
go to hell.

“I told you I got a job.”

She turned to look at him. “Doing what? Wal-Mart greeter?”

“Now, Bree,” he said. “Turns out I’m good with computers. I’ve been in IT since I got sober.”

That seemed to confound her. He supposed she remembered when he couldn’t keep a job for more than six weeks.

“All right,” she said. “When are you going back to where the job is? You must’ve used up your vacation time by now.”

“The job is in LA,” he said. “I own the company, so I can sort of take off when I want.”

“Don’t bother,” she said, but she wasn’t nearly as wound up as she’d been the first time she saw him. Maybe she was softening toward him. Or not. Hard to tell. But he guessed he’d find out.

Now was the little bit harder part. “That little Toyota parked at the curb, I want you to have that.” He held up the keys.

“No,” she said, and shoved open the front door.

“Honey, that Ford you’re driving is a deathtrap. It gives me heart palpitations just thinking about your driving it.”

“That’s your problem, not mine.”

He wasn’t above a little manipulation. “What about Natalie? You want her to get stranded in some bad part of town some night when she’s out with her friends?”

“Go to hell.”

Well, maybe it needed a little more manipulation. “You take the car, Brianna, and I’ll go back to LA. But you got to turn over that Ford to me or I’m not going to believe you.”

That stopped her. “You’ll go back to LA if I take the car.”

“You’ve got to give me the Ford, too. But, yes, that’s the deal.”

She took the keys in his hand, tossed him the keys to the Ford. “Knock yourself out, Dick,” she said, and went inside the house.

Matthias couldn’t help the stupid grin on his face. He’d spent half the night staring up at the ceiling, replaying the evening in his mind, like some dumb lovestruck kid. Finally he got up early and made some coffee, and then waited restlessly for the clock to tick forward to nine
A.M.
, which seemed like the earliest time it was decent to call someone on a Sunday morning.

Brianna had given him her cell number the day they’d met for coffee to talk over his spring event. And he was glad he had it because he knew Brianna would be able to help him.

He felt his whole body unclench when she answered the phone with a slightly drowsy “Hello?”

• • •

Brianna looked at the clock by her bed and flopped back on her pillows. She had barely slept last night, and now Mr. G was on the phone. She had no idea what he could want but … she couldn’t help feeling it was a positive sign that he was calling her on the cell. Maybe he’d say,
The Bogart retrospective is over but they’re showing Tokyo horror movies.
And she’d say,
I’d love to.
After all, he’d promised the next movie was on him.

“Morning, Mr. G,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Good morning, Brianna,” he said. “I’m sorry to bother you so early on a Sunday morning.”

She smiled and settled into the pillows. Him and his small talk. “No worries.”

“Did you have a good time last night?” he asked. “I know you were working but I hope you were able to enjoy yourself anyway.”

“It was fine. Slightly more disasters than last year, but fewer than the watershed event of five years ago.”

“I remember that.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone does. What’s up?”
Come on, Mr. G,
she thought.
Tokyo horror movies. Not that hard. Give me a sign, any kind of sign, and I’ll do the asking for you if you want.

“I met someone last night.”

“I — what?”

“I met someone last night,” he said. “And I didn’t get her number — ”

Her hearing seemed to cut out about then. She couldn’t seem to get past the
I met someone last night
when he was supposed to be telling her about Tokyo horror movies.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “One of the dogs just distracted me. So, you met someone last night?”

“Yes, and I know it’s an inconvenience, but I didn’t get her number and I would like to see her again.”

She examined that sentence. There was no Tokyo horror movie mentioned. There was no Brianna anywhere in it. She made a sound to let him know she’d heard him and examined the sentence a second time.

It’ll be my treat next time
, he’d said, and she had said … she had said,
Hmm
. Instead of
Yes
or
Sounds good
or
How about Saturday?

She closed her eyes. Her nerves had been jangling that day but she should have said something. Because apparently he had assumed she was not interested in a next time. And so he had gone and fallen for someone else when he should have been falling for her.

That hurt so much she gasped a little.

“What?” he asked.

“Sorry, Dakota just stepped on my foot.”

“You sounded like it hurt a lot more than that.”

She took a steadying breath. “It was unexpected, is all. So, you met someone.”

“Yes. I thought you might know who she is, and if you’re not able to give me her number then perhaps you would be willing to let her know I would be glad to hear from her.”

He said all that in a rush, and Brianna said what she had to say, which was, “What is this, high school?”

That made him laugh and when he spoke again he didn’t sound nearly so nervous. “I knew I could count on you, Brianna.”

Yeah, I am such a good sport.
“Who is it?” Maybe it would be someone awful, and he would realize that on their first date, and then he would call Brianna about the Tokyo horror movie. Or she would call him. Either way. It was just a slight delay, that was all. She knew they’d been inching closer to … to …
something
until this … this
floozy
, whoever she was, had got her hooks into him.

“Her name’s Natalie Johnson,” he said, and her stomach swooped to her toes.

Nice guy?

Really nice.

Glad.

Goddammit.

“Do you know her?” he asked anxiously.

Brianna cleared her throat. “She’s my sister.”

A stunned silence followed that. “Oh — I didn’t — your little sister? I didn’t make the connection because of your different last names.”

“Natalie Johnson. That’s the one.”

“Well,” he said cheerfully. “Then I guess you know how to get hold of her.”

“I do indeed,” she said.
Good sport good sport good sport. I am a good sport.
Goddammit
.
“Give me just a second to go find her.”

“Thank you.” Then: “I don’t suppose — ”

She closed her eyes, knowing exactly what he wanted. Her heart ached, but she said it. “She thinks you’re a really nice guy, Mr. G.”

He let out a little whoosh of breath. “Okay, good.”

“Give me a second,” she said and set the phone down on the night stand. She opened the bedroom door, and Dakota came racing in, prancing, and Brianna shooed her into the backyard, then went to Natalie’s door and knocked, then peeked inside.

Natalie yawned and sat up, patting Jasmine, who had stirred enough to open an eye and look at Brianna.

“Mr. G’s on the phone for you,” Brianna said brightly.

Natalie gave her a perplexed look. “Uh, Mr. G? Why does he want to talk to
me
?”

“I think you were kissing him in the garden last night.”

A smile blossomed on Natalie’s face. “
Matthias
,” she said, and scrambled out of bed.

“On my cell. In my room,” Brianna said and Natalie raced down the hall, giving a good impression of Dakota.

Jasmine looked at her. Brianna looked at Jasmine. Jasmine got off the bed and padded after Natalie.

Matthias
. Natalie knew him as
Matthias
. Whereas Brianna who had talked to him practically every damned day for five years had never gotten past
Mr. G.
Which, that was everything right there, wasn’t it?