St. Nacho's 4: The Book of Daniel (26 page)

“You look like a forty-year-old frat boy. You need to act your age.”

“That’s not what the guys said last night.” I don’t know why I needed to be flippant with Bree. I didn’t care what she thought of me anymore, not really, but I was proud enough that I didn’t want her to see how far I’d fallen.

I didn’t want her to see how much what had happened in the wake of Jake’s engagement party had cost me, personally and professionally, even though I assumed she was astute enough to guess.

Then Bree did something I’d rarely seen her do in a strange place: she took off her gloves and laid them in her lap. When I glanced up, she clasped my hands in hers and held them tight. She gripped them tightly when I would have withdrawn them from sheer shock.

“I know it must have seemed as though everyone you thought was your friend lined up against you.”

“It didn’t just seem like that. Everyone did.”

“Speaking for myself, I never understood how passionately you were prepared to fight—not until after the fact. I thought you were posturing for the sake of your image. You should have talked to me privately.”

“And said what? That I truly didn’t want to invest in a venture because it would hurt people I care about?”

“You could have let me know how you felt.”

“Since when have you given a shit about me?” I asked bitterly. “Since when has making money taken a backseat to emotions for Al? For any of us? You wouldn’t have believed me if I’d tried.”

“Neither of us realized how far you’d go to stop the project from going ahead.”

I couldn’t help the way my lips twitched into a smile. I couldn’t hide what I was feeling, which was triumph. No one was going to underestimate me again. Ever.

“I guess you didn’t count on my desperation.”

“No. We didn’t.”

“So maybe you can tell me why you came. Why you’ve disrobed”—I nodded toward her hands—“and what you could possibly want from me now that I have nothing left.”

“You
won
, Dan. You beat us. You got what you wanted. Why are you hiding here in this dump as though you’re indigent?”

“I can assure you, the indigent can’t afford to live here, Bree. And since I currently own a rather large parcel of land I can do nothing with, I will have to get a job, and soon, if I want to continue to live in this kind of luxury.”

“You always make jokes when things get serious.”

“Nobody needs a joke when things are going along just fine.”

“You used every last bit of your liquid cash to get that property, and from what I understand, you’ve leveraged yourself even more. Why? Why did you do that for people who turned their back on you the second they thought you’d betrayed them?”

“Because—”
Crap
. My eyes stung, and not for the world would I show Bree that she could still get to me. I got up and went to the sliding-glass door. The vertical blinds were dusty and tangled, but I pushed them aside to look out. It wasn’t the worst place to live. There was a parklike atmosphere beyond my back patio, complete with streams and a small play yard where the Sunday fathers took their children to swing and slide.

At least I didn’t have kids.

“Because?” Bree followed me. “Why, Dan? I need to hear you tell me.”

“Because I loved them. Because making money doesn’t justify hurting people or destroying the environment. In the past I’ve looked the other way, and I just can’t anymore.”

Bree’s hand landed on my shoulder and rested there. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry for me, Bree. Like you said, I won.”

“I’m sorry because you think you’ve lost the very thing you were trying to protect.”

“Yeah well. There’s a lot of historical precedent for shit like that. If nothing else, you have to love the irony.”

She peered at my face. “You aren’t capable of subterfuge anymore. It’s fascinating.”

“Now you’re just making wild assumptions.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” She stood beside me and watched out the window for a while. “I’m sorry I didn’t stand by you when you wanted to block the project.”

I laughed at that. “It would have made things considerably easier if you had, but at least you bought me out. That was the last little bit of cash I needed. I should thank you for that, if I didn’t already. Are you going to change your name when you marry Jim? It will be odd to see Livingston Properties without a Livingston at the helm.”

“I won’t keep your name in any case.”

“I see.”

“I never should have had it in the first place.”

Old news
. “I’ve regretted using you for a long time. I hope you’ll agree I’ve been fair enough that we can both put it behind us now. LP can move on without that land and I can move on to…whatever’s next.”

“How did you manage to get that land anyway? Al was furious. He says to tell you hello from Ellie and the girls, by the way.”

I nodded. That was
exactly
Al. He could be professionally furious with me during the day, and at night we could still have cocktails and catch up as though we were back in school. That friendship wasn’t going anywhere, at least. Unless I let it die of neglect.

“I still have one or two tricks I never shared with the folks at Livingston Properties.”

She bit her lip. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

“Oh, jeez.”
What more can there possibly be?

“I want you to know, I’ve been seeing a counselor. I think…I may have always known what you couldn’t tell me. I may have been hateful to your brother and…others like you because I sensed…”

When she didn’t continue, I guessed. “You thought I might be gay?”

“I didn’t need ESP to know you weren’t that into me. You substituted precise, almost clinical control for passion pretty early on. I was angry and waiting for the other shoe to drop. I resented the hell out of you for not wanting me. It made me feel unattractive and… Whatever. I must have known something wasn’t…”

What it cost her to say that, I couldn’t imagine. Bree did not like to apologize. So naturally, I made her clarify. “What exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ve said some pretty hateful things. Things that—looking back—I can’t believe came out of my mouth.”

“And?”

“
Must
I say it? I was vile to you and your brother. I was vile about your sexuality and insulted you every chance I got. But I knew I was losing you. I had lost you long since, and I—”

“Stop.” Suddenly I didn’t need her to say it. I could let her off the hook and tell her what she needed to hear because after all that time, it just didn’t matter anymore. “I understand. It’s okay. We both—”

“I’m sorry.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m sorry that I treated you the way I did. I never meant for things to get like that between us.”

“Neither did I. It wasn’t only you.”

She blinked and tried to wipe the tears that glittered on her lashes from her eyes before they ruined her makeup. “I swore I wouldn’t do this.”

“I have a box of tissues around here somewhere.”

“No doubt,” she said drily. “But you can keep them.”

“I beg your pardon? They’re not used or anything.”

“You know I can’t use
anyone else’s tissues
. I have some in my purse.” She snorted and gave my shoulder the tiniest shove. I got the briefest glimpse of the girl I knew before everything went so wrong. “You made me say that out loud.”

“Looks like we’re both falling apart.”

She leaned against me then. Or rather, she slumped, and I caught her. I felt her arms slide around my waist and then she was hanging on, almost hugging me, and I put my arm around her shoulder and held her there.

“I never meant to hurt you.” I said. “I swear I tried to do the right thing.”

She shook her head, but said nothing.

“I wish I could have been the man you wanted—the man you needed—I wish…” I couldn’t say it out loud. I wished, at that point, that I had never been born.

I held her, and we both looked out the window as if there was something fascinating there. People walked to and from the parking lot with shopping bags, or they led dogs along the winding pathways. We could hear children playing on the swings in the distance. Her voice, when she finally spoke sounded tired.

“When I met you, I saw something in you. A core of intelligence and passion and promise. I thought I could build a future with
that
man, not the successful con artist you became. I would have been glad for a life with a man who would risk everything he had for the love of his friends.”

“Oh,
Bree
.”

“You’ve become the kind of man I can believe in, Dan.” She swallowed hard. “And you could never have done that with me by your side. That’s…hard to take.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” She tried in vain to wipe her tears, then left to retrieve her purse from where she left it by the sofa. “I’m a mess.”

“Bree, you are always,
always
beautiful. You need to believe me when I say that, if for no other reason than because I can’t lie worth a damn anymore.”

Her lips formed what was sure to have become a genuine smile if she’d allowed it. “I know.”

“It’s a
curse
. Minerva from Rune Nation wrote these symbols on my damned driveway in sidewalk chalk, and I haven’t been able to lie since.”

“So it’s a magic spell?” She didn’t look too impressed. “
Right
. But good for her.”

“Them. There are three of them, and they followed me around like the witches in
Macbeth
.”

Bree was digging around in her handbag, no doubt to retrieve her tissues, but she stopped and glanced up at me. “You don’t really believe in witchcraft.”

“Of course not. But that’s as good an explanation as any for my inability to hide what I’m thinking or feeling at this point. I’m so…extremely uncomfortable.” Vulnerable.
Naked
. As things stood, I was afraid to leave the safety of my apartment. Apparently I could still
omit
some things even if I couldn’t outright lie, because I didn’t tell Bree that.

“Maybe,” Bree suggested, “you simply don’t
need
to lie anymore. I should think you’d be relieved.”

“No such luck.”

“All right. Well. Maybe you should see someone. I’ve had some success with my therapist. Maybe you need to see about getting yourself a good therapist and a good PT for that hand.”

“This is odd, hearing you concerned with my welfare.”

“Tell me about it. But it seems I have a conscience too.” She pulled an envelope from her purse and left it on the coffee table. “Who knew?”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t open it until I leave. And do as you’re told, Dan Livingston. Take care of yourself.”

She crossed the room to me and rose up on the balls of her feet. On autopilot, I leaned over and let her kiss my cheek. For once, she didn’t rub at the smudge of lipstick she left behind.

“I’ll be off, then.” I watched her put on her gloves then hoist the little chain of her handbag over her shoulder. She turned with a swish, leaving a Chanel-scented breeze in her wake. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“All right.”

* * *

A long time after Bree left I sat quietly on the couch, nursing a beer and staring at that envelope. Darkness fell all around me. I didn’t know what she might have written, and I wasn’t sure I had the strength to find out. Had her counselor instructed her to put her thoughts into words? Was this her final indictment of me for marrying her in the first place? Her last opportunity to tell me how I ruined her life?

I opened it with shaking fingers, eventually, and took it into the kitchen to read. But…it wasn’t a letter at all. It was a legal document reassigning the ownership of Livingston Properties to me, both the portion I’d given up to her as part of the divorce settlement
plus
the rest, which I’d sold back to her to get the St. Nacho’s land parcel. I was once again half owner of the company I’d started from a couple thousand dollars, a decrepit beach cottage, and a lot of backbreaking physical labor.

There was a pink Post-It note stuck next to Bree’s signature.

Make me proud.

Chapter Twenty-six

The miniature horse I purchased in the beginning of October was officially the best, and the worst, idea I’d ever had.

The best, because taking care of a tiny horse as autumn’s brightly colored leaves drifted down from the trees around my new home turned out to be the most joyful work—and the best therapy both emotionally and physically—that I could have undertaken at that point.

The best, because it cemented my status as the coolest, most perfect adult who ever lived, in the eyes of Al’s girls. All of them, not just Katy and Jana, but Ellie too, loved that tiny hairball with every fiber of their being so my place became the favorite weekend destination for their entire family.

The worst, because every so often my diminutive pintaloosa looked at me as if he knew he’d been purchased as a shiny lure for a certain firefighter named Cam, and since he’d heard me admit it once or twice, in the deeply personal dialogue we carried on while I cared for him, perhaps he’d begun to believe it.

“So. Who’s the best-looking guy around, huh?” I groomed him conscientiously, giving him a good, thorough daily brushing as well as performing a thousand other horsey chores. Even so I swear he was still lower maintenance than Bree had been.

“I guess I could have gotten myself a spirited little mini stallion in the first place and saved myself a boatload of alimony.”

He nudged my arm.

“That’s right. You need to stop me when I start bad mouthing my ex, boy. If it weren’t for Bree, we wouldn’t be here.”

My new best friend, a 32-inch-tall bay with spots on his hindquarters and a fiery copper mane and tail—aptly named Fireball—gazed at me reproachfully with one blue and one brown eye as I tangled my fingers in his mane. He was uncommonly vain about his hair. He nipped at my hand without actually catching it in his teeth and gamboled off to play in the small paddock.

It was a fine day to lean against the white rail fence and watch him play. I caught up a colorful plastic beach ball and hurled it. He jumped like a dog, charging it and nudging it around with his nose.