My Brother's Crown (18 page)

Nana was there too, impeccably dressed and coiffed as usual, and though she seemed excited, there was a distinct sadness in her eyes. Impulsively, I pulled her in for a big hug.

“I miss him too,” I whispered before letting go.

We shared a teary smile—what was it with me and tears this morning?—and then she surprised me by placing a hand on my cheek and holding it there for a long moment, soft and papery and cool, as she gazed lovingly into my eyes. She'd never been overly demonstrative, so the tenderness of the gesture made it even more special to me.

Our moment was interrupted from one direction by my parents, who were just coming down for breakfast themselves, and the other by a fresh batch of volunteers feeding in through the front door.

I loved seeing my family like this each year, but making pleasant conversation with so many people at once was draining for me, especially when I still had things to do. It didn't help matters when some of the youngest relatives, excited to be together again, started running up and down the broad hallway, weaving in and out between our legs, giggling all the while. Feeling flushed and overwhelmed, I longed for the quiet of my lab back home but was willing to settle for the display rooms right now—if only I could get to them. Attempting again to extricate myself, with one last dash I finally made it.

Pulling the door shut firmly behind me, I sat in the nearest chair in the empty room, closed my eyes, and tried to catch my breath. I was starting to feel better a few minutes later when Danielle came in from the outside door, looking lovely in a pale pink sundress and strappy sandals.

“Hey, you,” she said, wiggling a flash drive at me. “I added some last-minute tweaks to the movie and wanted to run through part of it again on the big screen. Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

“I'm not interrupting? You look like you're in the middle of something.”

I smiled. “Yeah. I was recovering.”

“From?”

“Let's see. ‘Oh my goodness, you're getting so much older!' ‘Honey, you're just so thin, do you ever eat?' ‘Looks like you've put on a few pounds since last year, Renee. Are you eating too much?' ”

Danielle laughed. “Oh, boy. I can't wait.” Glancing around, she spotted the ladder, now propped against the wall, and moved it over under the projector.

“And then there's my favorite,” I continued. “ ‘Are you seeing anyone?' I got that three times. This last time, they added, ‘Are you seeing anyone? Because you're not getting any younger, you know.' ”

With a groan, Danielle started up the ladder. Moving closer, I held it steady while she worked.

“So are you?” she asked after a moment.

“Am I what?”

“Seeing someone? I noticed you didn't volunteer any info last night when Maddee and I were dishing about our love lives.”

For some reason I found myself hesitating. The answer was no, and yet not only was that word suddenly stuck in my throat, but I could feel my cheeks turning a vivid red.

In the the absence of a reply, Danielle glanced down at me and then did a double take. Mortified, I turned my face away.

“Renee!” she cried eagerly, abandoning her task and climbing halfway down. “What are you not telling me? I know that expression. There
is
someone, isn't there?”

“No!” I blurted out, the word finally popping from my throat like a piece of bread after a Heimlich maneuver.

She came down the rest of the way and stood her ground in front of me, hands on her hips. “Oh, yeah? This is
me
you're talking too, cuz. I see all, I know all, remember? Now spill.”

I let go of the ladder, taking a step back. “I'm not dating anybody, I promise.”

“But…”

This was so embarrassing. “But… okay, fine. I did meet someone just recently who seems kind of interesting. “

“Mm-hmm,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “And what's his name?”

I pinched a finger to my thumb and slid them across my lips like a zipper.

“Got it. So you think what's-his-name is ‘interesting' but otherwise nothing's happened? You haven't gone out yet?”

I shook my head, feeling fourteen. “We only just met.”

“Yeah, but what's the real holdup?”

I shrugged. “I don't know. He's not my type. Like, not at
all
.”

“How so?”

To my relief, she turned back toward the ladder and began to climb it again.

“Well, he's kind of… um… well,
built
. Really built. Like big muscles, big neck, big arms. All brawn, no brains, you know? At least, that's what I thought at first. But then we started talking and…” My voice trailed off as I realized how ridiculous I was sounding. I hardly knew anything about the man. “It's dumb. Really. I doubt it's even mutual. Besides, he doesn't live near me, so it's not like we could date or anything.”

At that moment, the door to the hallway swung open and there stood Blake Keller. Silhouetted against the bright morning light pouring in from the windows behind him, he looked like some sort of Adonis poised on the horizon. Then he moved further inside the room and shut the door, turning back into himself again.

Not that he wasn't an Adonis in his own right.

C
HAPTER
T
EN

Renee

G
ood morning,” I said to Blake, drawing on every speck of summer etiquette camp I could muster to stay right where I was rather than walk away and start fiddling with the pleats on the nearest fabric panel or straightening the rows of chairs.

“Good morning, Talbot,” he replied, his eyes sparkling as they lingered on mine.

Ignoring the flirty nature of his gaze, I turned toward Danielle, who had come back down the ladder and was waiting for an introduction. “Blake, this is my cousin Danielle Talbot. Danielle, this is Blake Keller.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, turning that handsome gaze toward her. He was looking good—maybe too good—in a slim-cut navy jacket, light blue shirt, and subtly striped tie.

“You too,” she replied, shaking hands and giving him her prettiest smile.

Oh, who was I kidding? He could never be interested in someone like me with someone like her around. And the minute Maddee showed up, well, that would seal the deal. Not that either one of them were man-stealers by any means—nor that this guy was even mine to
steal in the first place. But still. It was ludicrous to believe he might look my way again once he'd met the two of them.

Feeling disheartened but trying not to let it show, I explained to Danielle that Blake was with Nana's insurance company and had been charged with protecting the Persecution Pamphlet until tomorrow's ceremony.

“Cool. Like, standing guard and everything?” she asked, her eyelashes looking ridiculously long and full.

“Actually, I have a guy to do that, but I'll be spelling him once in a while. Otherwise, I'll be sort of here and there, just keeping an eye on things.”

He flashed me a quick smile, but I found myself incapable of giving him one in return.

“Danielle is the one who did the posters,” I said instead, trying to cover my awkwardness. “And the film too.”

“Oh, so you're the artist, huh? Your grandmother mentioned you. I have to say, you look almost exactly like I expected you would.” With a quick glance at me, he added, “Then again, I'm kind of uncanny that way. I always know what to expect when meeting new people.”

I waited a beat. “Yeah, it's his superpower,” I said dryly, a flutter running through me at our shared private joke.

We were interrupted by the ding of an incoming text. Blake pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen before excusing himself, saying his “guy” had arrived. With that, he went out the way he'd come in, leaving behind a silence so loud I could almost hear the grass growing outside.

“Lots to get done!” I said quickly, turning on my heel and moving as fast as I could into the other room.

“Yeah, like that's going to save you,” Danielle replied with a giggle, hot on my heels.

My face burning, I reached behind a fabric panel to grab a rag and the bottle of cleaner Dr. Underwood had left for me, and then turned and went to town on the display cabinet.

“Honey. Seriously. You call that ‘interesting'?” Her tone was hushed
but eager. “I call that prime rib with lobster on the side. Are you
kidding
me? He's
gorgeous
. And
totally
into you, by the way.”

“No, he's not.” My hands went still, but I couldn't meet my cousin's eyes. “Is he?”

I expected to hear something sweet, something encouraging and kind.

Instead, her voice was sharp and scolding. “Now you listen here, missy.”

When I didn't meet her eyes, Danielle leaned forward and placed both hands squarely on top of the case I was trying to clean.

“Hey—”

“Renee,” she barked, cutting me off. “This is serious.”

I stopped cleaning and stepped back. “What?”

Looking me deeply in the eye, she spoke succinctly. “Do. Not. Mess. This. Up. Not again.”

I looked away.

“Oh, like you don't know what I'm talking about? Every time you meet a guy who is actually smart enough and cute enough to catch your eye, you end up running him off.”

“Come on—”

“Either you're snarky or condescending or, worst of all, you do the buddy thing, where you act more like a sister than a girlfriend.”

Ouch. Her words hurt, but we both knew they were true.

We were quiet for a long moment. When she spoke again, her tone at last was gentle. “I don't know what it's going to take to make you change,” she said softly, “but at least you have to try.” After a beat, she smiled and added in a high-pitched, nasally voice, “Because you're not getting any younger, you know.”

As it turned out, Blake's guy was a grizzled older fellow with a gravelly voice and steely blue eyes who introduced himself as “Ingles”—though whether that was his first name or last, I wasn't sure. He was
wearing a navy uniform with all kinds of things strapped to it, including a Taser, a flashlight that could double as a billy club, and a big, shiny gun. I wasn't exactly thrilled at the sight, but at least I didn't have a panic attack. Unlike yesterday outside the bank, I was prepared this time.

Blake instructed Ingles on logistics and procedure while I finished the last of my preparations, and then it was time to retrieve the pamphlet from the study. Only then, however, did I realize I had made one important miscalculation: Between here and there were tons of relatives, even more than before. I explained to Blake that we were going to be waylaid, probably over and over. He thought for a moment and then looked to his buddy.

“Guess we can do a Swift?”

“Sure,” he replied, standing up straight and placing a hand just millimeters away from his gun barrel.

My pulse surged. “What's a swift?”

“A Taylor Swift,” Blake explained. “Her tour came through Richmond last month, and Ingles and I were in charge of getting her in and out of the coliseum. We got it down to a science.”

I blinked, about to ask what on earth they were doing escorting a pop star to her concerts when he added matter-of-factly, “Her legs are insured by our company.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Anyway, here's how it works,” Blake continued, taking my elbow. “The two of us flank you real tight and then we walk three across, moving with speed and purpose directly from here to the study in as straight a line as we can muster.”

“If anyone tries to engage,” Ingles added, “we just pass 'em by. No eye contact, no response. Nothing. Got it?”

Behind me, Danielle clapped. “Fun, Renee! You're a rock star.”

I couldn't imagine anything I less wanted to be, but the pamphlet was in there and we needed it in here, so I reluctantly agreed. Then we were off.