A Lot like Love
Page 77
Given the way he’d stormed out of her house on Sunday night, it was obvious that they’d had some kind of misunderstanding. Clearly, they needed to work on their communication skills. An issue she intended to address with him as soon as he called her back.
For now, however, she had her family to deal with. This was her brother’s homecoming dinner, the first time the three of them had gotten together since his release from prison and the hospital. “Sounds like Dad really went all out,” she said to Kyle.
Grey was waiting for them in the dining room, with a glass of Scotch in his hand. He gestured magnanimously. “What can I say? How often does a father get to celebrate his son’s release from prison?” His sharp blue eyes narrowed in on Kyle. “You better say ‘only once.’ ”
Kyle held up his hands innocently. “Only once. I promise.”
They took their seats at the dining table, which had been set with crystal stemware and china.
“Since this is a celebration of sorts, it’s a good thing I brought something, too.” Jordan handed a bag with her store’s label to Kyle. “I figured it’s been a while since you’ve had a decent glass of wine. So I thought long and hard about the perfect bottle for you.”
Kyle looked touched. “Aw, Jordo, you shouldn’t have. But I will gladly drink it regardless.” He pulled out the wine bottle and checked out the label. He threw her a look. “Very funny.”
Grey leaned forward. “What is it?”
Kyle set the bottle on the table to show him the label. “Orin Swift. The Prisoner.”
Her father laughed, and Jordan smiled innocently. “It actually is one of my favorites.”
As the waiter began to serve them sashimi and ahi tuna ceviche, Jordan and her father let Kyle guide them on how much, or little, he wanted to discuss his incarceration at MCC. Mostly, he talked about how he still couldn’t believe he was out.
“Such a shame that I didn’t get to say good-bye to my fellow inmates,” he said sarcastically. “Actually, Puchalski was the only guy I liked. I still can’t figure out what got into him.”
As Jordan used her chopsticks to pick up a piece of hamachi, she decided it was best to get her brother off that topic as fast as possible. “Sounds like he just snapped.”
“But why would he have a fork in his shoe?” Kyle mused. “That makes me think he was planning the attack, which doesn’t make sense.”
Let it go, Kyle. She shrugged. “Maybe he always keeps a fork in his shoe. Who understands why any of these felon types do what they do?”
“Hey. I am one of those felon types.”
Grey tipped his glass of wine. “And who would’ve thought you would do what you did?”
“It was Twitter,” Kyle mumbled under his breath.
“Maybe we should change the subject,” Jordan suggested, sensing the conversation could only spiral downward from there.
“Okay. Let’s talk about you instead,” Grey said. “I never asked—how did Xander’s party go?”
Now there was a potential land mine of a topic. “It went fine. Pretty much the same party as usual.” Except for a little domestic espionage. She threw Kyle a look, needing help. Change the subject. Fast.
He stared back cluelessly. Why?
She glared. Just do it.
He made a face. All right, all right. “Speaking of wine, Jordo, how was your trip to Napa?”
Great. Leave it to her genius of a brother to pick the other topic she wanted to avoid. “I visited that new winery I told you about. We should have a deal this week so that my store will be the first to carry their wine in the Chicago area.”
Grey’s tone was casual. “Did you bring Tall, Dark, and Smoldering with you on the trip?”
Jordan set down her chopsticks and looked over at her father. He smiled cheekily as he took a sip of his wine.
“You read Scene and Heard, too?” she asked.
Grey scoffed at that. “Of course not. I have people read it for me. Half the time, it’s the only way I know what’s going on with you two. And don’t avoid the question. Tell us about this new guy you’re seeing. I find it very odd that you’ve never mentioned him.” He fixed his gaze on her like the Eye of Sauron.
Jordan took a deep breath, suddenly very tired of the lies and the secret-agent games. Besides, she had to face the truth at some point. “Well, Dad, I don’t know if you have to worry about Tall, Dark, and Smoldering anymore. He’s not talking to me right now.”
Kyle’s face darkened. “Tall, Dark, and Smoldering sounds like a moron to me.”
Grey nodded, his expression disapproving. “I agree. You can do a lot better than a moron, kiddo.”
“Thanks. But it’s not that simple. His job presents some . . . challenges.”
That was definitely the wrong thing to say.
“Why? What kind of work does he do?” her father asked immediately.
Jordan stalled. Maybe she’d overshot a little with the no more lies promise. She threw Kyle another desperate look. Do something. Again.
Kyle nodded. I’m on it. He eased back in his chair and stretched out his intertwined hands, limbering up his fingers. “Who cares what this jerk does? Send me his e-mail address, Jordo—I’ll take care of it. I can wreak all sorts of havoc on Tall, Dark, and Smoldering’s life in less than two minutes.” With an evil grin, he mimed typing at a keyboard.
Their father looked ready to blow a gasket. “Oh no—you do not get to make the jokes,” he told Kyle. “Jordan and I make the jokes. You’ve been out of prison for four days and I seriously hope you learned your lesson, young man . . .”
For now, however, she had her family to deal with. This was her brother’s homecoming dinner, the first time the three of them had gotten together since his release from prison and the hospital. “Sounds like Dad really went all out,” she said to Kyle.
Grey was waiting for them in the dining room, with a glass of Scotch in his hand. He gestured magnanimously. “What can I say? How often does a father get to celebrate his son’s release from prison?” His sharp blue eyes narrowed in on Kyle. “You better say ‘only once.’ ”
Kyle held up his hands innocently. “Only once. I promise.”
They took their seats at the dining table, which had been set with crystal stemware and china.
“Since this is a celebration of sorts, it’s a good thing I brought something, too.” Jordan handed a bag with her store’s label to Kyle. “I figured it’s been a while since you’ve had a decent glass of wine. So I thought long and hard about the perfect bottle for you.”
Kyle looked touched. “Aw, Jordo, you shouldn’t have. But I will gladly drink it regardless.” He pulled out the wine bottle and checked out the label. He threw her a look. “Very funny.”
Grey leaned forward. “What is it?”
Kyle set the bottle on the table to show him the label. “Orin Swift. The Prisoner.”
Her father laughed, and Jordan smiled innocently. “It actually is one of my favorites.”
As the waiter began to serve them sashimi and ahi tuna ceviche, Jordan and her father let Kyle guide them on how much, or little, he wanted to discuss his incarceration at MCC. Mostly, he talked about how he still couldn’t believe he was out.
“Such a shame that I didn’t get to say good-bye to my fellow inmates,” he said sarcastically. “Actually, Puchalski was the only guy I liked. I still can’t figure out what got into him.”
As Jordan used her chopsticks to pick up a piece of hamachi, she decided it was best to get her brother off that topic as fast as possible. “Sounds like he just snapped.”
“But why would he have a fork in his shoe?” Kyle mused. “That makes me think he was planning the attack, which doesn’t make sense.”
Let it go, Kyle. She shrugged. “Maybe he always keeps a fork in his shoe. Who understands why any of these felon types do what they do?”
“Hey. I am one of those felon types.”
Grey tipped his glass of wine. “And who would’ve thought you would do what you did?”
“It was Twitter,” Kyle mumbled under his breath.
“Maybe we should change the subject,” Jordan suggested, sensing the conversation could only spiral downward from there.
“Okay. Let’s talk about you instead,” Grey said. “I never asked—how did Xander’s party go?”
Now there was a potential land mine of a topic. “It went fine. Pretty much the same party as usual.” Except for a little domestic espionage. She threw Kyle a look, needing help. Change the subject. Fast.
He stared back cluelessly. Why?
She glared. Just do it.
He made a face. All right, all right. “Speaking of wine, Jordo, how was your trip to Napa?”
Great. Leave it to her genius of a brother to pick the other topic she wanted to avoid. “I visited that new winery I told you about. We should have a deal this week so that my store will be the first to carry their wine in the Chicago area.”
Grey’s tone was casual. “Did you bring Tall, Dark, and Smoldering with you on the trip?”
Jordan set down her chopsticks and looked over at her father. He smiled cheekily as he took a sip of his wine.
“You read Scene and Heard, too?” she asked.
Grey scoffed at that. “Of course not. I have people read it for me. Half the time, it’s the only way I know what’s going on with you two. And don’t avoid the question. Tell us about this new guy you’re seeing. I find it very odd that you’ve never mentioned him.” He fixed his gaze on her like the Eye of Sauron.
Jordan took a deep breath, suddenly very tired of the lies and the secret-agent games. Besides, she had to face the truth at some point. “Well, Dad, I don’t know if you have to worry about Tall, Dark, and Smoldering anymore. He’s not talking to me right now.”
Kyle’s face darkened. “Tall, Dark, and Smoldering sounds like a moron to me.”
Grey nodded, his expression disapproving. “I agree. You can do a lot better than a moron, kiddo.”
“Thanks. But it’s not that simple. His job presents some . . . challenges.”
That was definitely the wrong thing to say.
“Why? What kind of work does he do?” her father asked immediately.
Jordan stalled. Maybe she’d overshot a little with the no more lies promise. She threw Kyle another desperate look. Do something. Again.
Kyle nodded. I’m on it. He eased back in his chair and stretched out his intertwined hands, limbering up his fingers. “Who cares what this jerk does? Send me his e-mail address, Jordo—I’ll take care of it. I can wreak all sorts of havoc on Tall, Dark, and Smoldering’s life in less than two minutes.” With an evil grin, he mimed typing at a keyboard.
Their father looked ready to blow a gasket. “Oh no—you do not get to make the jokes,” he told Kyle. “Jordan and I make the jokes. You’ve been out of prison for four days and I seriously hope you learned your lesson, young man . . .”
