“Oh, give me a—”
“Take a good look at where you are, Nick.” He jerked his head at the corner of the parking lot, where trash overflowed from a Dumpster. “You used to be an artist. You dreamed of designing buildings. Skyscrapers. Museums. But you settled for this.”
Nick stared at him. “If I’m such a loser, then why do you work for me?”
“Who the hell knows? Because Ma asked me to? Because you’re my brother? Because I once worshiped the ground you walked on? All I ever wanted was for you to stop working long enough to see me. Who I really was.” He scuffed the ground with the toe of his running shoe. “But I’m not missing this audition, Nick. Not even for you. I can’t. It’s my best shot to get what I’ve been working for all this time.”
Slowly, Nick picked up his briefcase. “So you expect me to give you more time off?”
“I don’t expect you to give me shit, Nick. And I’ll even save you the trouble of firing me.”
Johnny shoved his hands in his pockets. “I quit.”
Motherhood is a giant step into the great unknown.
Look before you leap.
“I’m not surprised Nick wouldn’t support you when you told him about the donor,” Mags said, jiggling Lily on her shoulder. “You want to have another man’s baby. It’s an affront to his male ego.”
“It’s all that testosterone,” Chelsea said as she walked down the vitamin aisle at Healthy Eats, clipboard in hand, taking inventory. “It makes men territorial.”
“I wasn’t expecting him to be so angry,” Tori said. She rubbed her bare arms. “He wants me to wait, have the surgery instead, but he says he’s not interested in marriage and he definitely doesn’t want any more kids. So where does that leave me?”
“He’s just mad you’re not shaping your life to his needs,” Mags said. “But he doesn’t want to shape his to yours, either.”
Mags was right about that. “I’ve been there with Colin,” Tori said. “I swore when we split that I would never again rearrange my life goals for a man.” She let out a long breath. “It’s just that I…have feelings for Nick, you know?”
Chelsea sent her a troubled look. “Maybe you should consider putting the pregnancy idea off for a bit. Until summer’s over. After all, you’re just getting your shop started.”
“But it might take a couple months to get pregnant,” Tori said. “And if I wait too long, it might not happen at all.”
The three of them fell silent.
Finally, Chelsea gave Tori’s arm a squeeze. “You have to go with your heart. Just remember, we’re here for you, whatever you decide.”
She decided to do it.
The next day, she paid the fee to Choices. In return, she received an instruction booklet, an ovulation predictor kit, an insemination syringe and—her heart beat faster each time she looked at it—a home pregnancy test kit.
A couple days later, the ovulation kit said all systems were go.
Another call to Choices, and by that night she had everything she needed to do the deed. A vial of sperm. A syringe. An instruction pamphlet. She laid the first two on the bed and read the third.
Looked at the syringe. Looked at the vial.
Felt vaguely panicked.
Read the instruction booklet again.
Relax
, it advised.
Easier said than done.
She opened the cabinet where she’d stashed the last two candle magic spell kits. She’d been saving one of them for this very moment. Green was the color of fertility. The green bag held a candle of the same color, a circle of green felt, a long, sharp needle, and instructions that included a freshly peeled hard-boiled egg.
She didn’t happen to have any eggs, because of the vegan thing, so she went up to the corner convenience store and bought a half dozen. Then she waited by the boiling pot, her anxiety rising with the bubbles. Even after the water had cooled and she’d lit the candle, even after she’d wrapped the egg in the green felt and secured it with the needle, even after she’d snuffed the candle and buried the egg in her tiny backyard, doubts whispered down her spine.
She returned to her bedroom and put on a CD featuring calm forest and waterfall sounds, hoping it would soothe her nerves. The CD player was the one Nick had bought her, after he’d tossed the beat-up one with the frayed electrical cord in the trash.
There was a stabbing sensation in her chest and stomach, as if Tori’s heart were breaking into sharp slivers and sliding downward.
She sat abruptly on the edge of the bed, hugging herself, trying to block Nick from her mind. She tried to concentrate on the baby, the one she’d make without him. Would it be a girl? A boy? Would the child take after his anonymous father? Were there biological cousins he’d never know? Grandparents and aunts and uncles who would never cheer at any of his soccer games?
Would he ask about them? Miss them?
Would he end up, like Tori, longing for a real family?
You’re jumping into this baby thing half blind
, Nick had said. For the first time, Tori stopped to consider that maybe he was right. But not for the reasons he’d recited—that she didn’t have enough time or money. Or that raising a child might cause heartache or sleepless nights. Those things didn’t matter. She was ready and willing to brave them.
What she couldn’t find her way around were the new images that had taken up residence in her imagination where her future baby resided.
The child was no longer a little girl who looked like Tori.
He was a little boy with Nick’s eyes and Nick’s smile.
She picked up the vial of sperm, wrapped it in a paper towel, and threw it in the trash.
She just couldn’t do it.
Brothers fight. Sometimes, they even draw blood.
“Johnny told me you cast a candle magic spell for him,” Leigh told Tori Saturday afternoon during a rare lull in customer traffic. It was the Fourth of July, and they’d been doing a brisk business. “Do you think you could cast one for me, too?”
Tori studied her assistant. Leigh had been acting strangely the last few days—vacuuming the clean rug, dusting the dustless counters, and rearranging the merchandise with a single-mindedness that Tori could only call obsession.
She’d been talking a lot, too, in a nervous kind of way.
“I thought you don’t believe in magic,” Tori said.
Leigh got out a bottle of spray cleaner and started wiping down the spotless glass on the front of the sales counter. “Well, I didn’t, at first. But Johnny told me about the spell you cast for him, and…”
Tori laughed. “And because of that you’ve changed your mind? Even though he hasn’t even gone for his final audition yet?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I’m just…well, I just thought maybe a love spell would help. Johnny said you had one.”
“Let me guess. You want me to cast it on Jason.”
“Yeah.” Leigh abandoned the rag and sprayer on the counter. “I told him I’d meet him tonight. His family’s out of town.”
Tori regarded the girl seriously. “Ah. So that’s why you’re so jumpy.”
“I’m kinda nervous.” She swallowed. “Kinda? Who am I kidding? I’m petrified. But if I knew he really loved me, I think it would help me relax.”
Tori touched her shoulder. “Jason loves you, Leigh. I can tell every time he looks at you.”
She didn’t seem convinced. “A spell might help.”
“Love spells are tricky,” Tori said. “It’s bad karma to cast them on a specific person.”
The girl’s face fell. “Oh.”
“But…I could cast a general love spell. If Jason’s already in love with you—and I know he is—he’ll feel it.”
“Oh, Tori, would you?”
She retrieved the last of the Cajun witch’s spell kits. Inside the red bag she found a small vial of rose oil and a very thick, blunt-tipped red candle.
Leigh picked up the candle, her expression a study in thoughtfulness. Making a circle with her thumb and forefinger, she tested its thickness.
Her fingertips didn’t touch.
Tori blinked. With a little imagination, that candle looked like…
Leigh giggled. “Right. What do I do now?”
Tori refocused on the instructions. “Pour some of the oil on it.”
Leigh opened the vial and drizzled some on. “Now what?”
“ ‘Rub it in,’ ” Tori read.
Leigh ran her fingers up and down the candle, lightly at first. Then, her grin widening, she anchored the base with one hand and started stroking up and down.
“Oh, my God.” Tori smothered a snort of laughter.
Leigh shot her a look. “I wonder if Jason’s this well endowed?”
Tori’s shoulders started to shake. “You’re not supposed to be thinking of Jason, remember?”
“Oh, right. I forgot.” Leigh stroked faster. “How long do I have to keep this up, do you think?”
Tori consulted the instructions. “Until—”
She broke off as the candle slipped out of Leigh’s fingers, skidded across the counter, and bounced on the floor.
“Um, until that happens, I guess.”
Leigh burst out laughing. Tori joined her, and for a while neither of them could stop. Every time Tori thought she’d gained some control, she’d exchange glances with Leigh and they’d both start up all over again.
“Anything else?” Leigh finally managed to gasp.
Tori’s sides hurt. “You have to light it. To release its, um,
energy
.”
They dissolved into laughter again.
Finally, Tori bent to pick up the candle. Leigh was still giggling as she prepared to light the match.
“Here goes.”
The flame sizzled, then caught and held. A scant moment later, the door to the shop opened. Tori’s head snapped around. Nick’s grandmother stood on the threshold.
“Nonna!” Leigh jumped up. “What’re you doing here?”
Nonna peered suspiciously at the burning candle. “I came to invite Tori to our Fourth of July barbecue tonight.”
“Sure,” Leigh said, quickly blowing out the flame. “She’d love to come.”
The barbecue at the Santangelos’ was a boisterous affair, awash with chatter about Rita’s upcoming singing debut at midnight that night at Johnny’s club. Nonna frowned, but everyone else wished Rita luck.
Everyone except for Nick, that was, since his place at the table was empty.
“He’s got a business dinner,” Johnny told Tori. He manned the grill, wearing a chef’s apron emblazoned with the words,
STAND BACK—I’M SO HOT I’M ON FIRE
!
“On the Fourth of July?” Tori asked, incredulous.
Johnny shrugged. “The man doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘holiday.’ The client’s Canadian, in town on a working vacation, so what does he care about Independence Day? When he called last week, Nick jumped.”
When the dinner was ready—hamburgers and hot dogs for the Santangelos, a veggie burger for Tori—Sophie took the seat between Tori and Leigh. “I wanna go to Atlantic City, too, Daddy,” she told her father. “To see the fireworks. Uncle Johnny said he’d take me.”
“So I did,” Johnny said. He looked from Alex to Tori and Leigh. “What about it? Everyone game?”
“Sure thing,” Alex said. Leigh shot Tori a nervous look. “Just as long as I’m back here by eleven.”
An hour later Tori stood on Atlantic City’s Steel Pier, surrounded by squealing children and laughter.
“Did you see?” Sophie tugged her arm. “Did you see me on the spaceship ride?”
Tori smiled down at her. “I saw.”
“The Ferris wheel’s next,” Johnny announced, materializing with two paper cones topped with fluffy balls of cotton candy. “Then I’ll win some prizes for the ladies.”
He wasn’t joking. Within the hour, Sophie was hugging a five-foot purple alligator, Leigh was the proud owner of a glow-in-the-dark alien, and Tori had the fuzzy stem of a giant smiley-face flower in hand.
“Is there any game you can’t win?” she asked Johnny, impressed.
“Nah, can’t think of any.”
Tori returned his cheeky grin. This was fun. Twilight and the fireworks were still an hour or so off. The Atlantic City Boardwalk was alive with tourists, either milling about on foot or riding in hand-pushed rolling chaises. On the pier, rides spun, kids laughed, and hot dogs and popcorn scented the air.
Families were everywhere. And wonder of wonders, Tori felt like she was actually part of one. Sophie clung to her hand while Alex walked a few steps behind, scanning the crowd. Johnny’s jokes streamed past her ear. Leigh had hooked her arm through Tori’s as if they were sisters.
Suddenly Sophie stopped and turned to her father. “Daddy?”
“Yes, honey?”
“I gotta go potty.”
Alex groaned.
“I’ll take her to the ladies’ room,” Leigh said with a laugh. She grabbed Sophie’s hand. “We’ll meet you guys back here.”
“I’ll go get some caramel corn in the meantime,” Alex said. He loped off in the other direction, leaving Tori and Johnny alone.
Johnny watched them go. “They’ll be a while. Want to walk up the Boardwalk a bit?”
“All right.”
They left the amusement pier to stroll on the Boardwalk between the bright casinos and the dark sea. For a long while, Johnny remained uncharacteristically silent.
“Something wrong?” Tori asked.
He hesitated, then sighed. “I guess I’m not going to be able to keep it a secret from everyone for long. I quit my day job. Right after I stumbled on your fight with Nick.”
“You quit Santangelo Construction?” Tori came to halt, forcing him to stop and turn back. “I certainly hope it wasn’t because of me.”
“No. Not really. It’s been coming for a while. Nick and I just don’t get along.”
He was bleaker than Tori had ever seen him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I hated that job. I probably never should have taken it in the first place.” He studied her, his eyes grave. “Tori, I wanted to talk to you about something. Nick told me you’re planning to have a baby.”
“Johnny—”
“And I wanted to tell you I think that if that’s what you want, then you should go for it. I’ve seen you with Sophie. You’d make a great mom.”
Her belly twinged. But she wasn’t sorry she’d chickened out at the last minute. It hadn’t felt right to go ahead with the insemination. Not when she was so obsessed with Nick. But where were she and Nick now? Nowhere.
“Please,” she said. “Could we talk about something else?”
He searched her face, and for a moment she thought he was going to pursue the subject. Then his expression morphed, and he was back to being Johnny the comic.
“Okay. Enough about you, then. Let’s talk about me.”
She chuckled. “All right. What about you?”
They started walking again. “The
Franklinville Hospital
screen test is coming up and I’m nervous as hell.”
“I thought actors were supposed to be nervous. Doesn’t it give you an edge or something?”
He darted a glance in her direction. “That’s a crock.” Then, “It’s a love scene, you know.”
“What is?”
“The screen test. It’s a scene between a new character, a street-tough surgeon named Gavin Hunter, and Macey Lark, the reporter.”
“Macey Lark? I’ve seen her on the show. She’s gorgeous.”
“And tough. She’s investigating Hunter and threatening to go public with the skeletons in his closet. But she’s hot for him, too, which is a problem.”
“I’ll bet.”
He moved closer. “He wants her just as badly. In fact, Hunter can’t seem to keep his hands off Macey. And she doesn’t mind at all.”
Tori snorted.
“The scene for the screen test is set at the hospital charity ball.”
Without warning, Johnny swung around and caught Tori about the waist, twirling her in a circle. Tori grabbed his shoulders and shrieked. The smiley-faced flower tumbled out of her hand.
“Johnny! What are you doing?”
In lieu of an answer, he waltzed her across the Boardwalk, scattering the crowd. “Okay, so picture this. Dr. Hunter’s at the ball. He sees Macey across the room, talking to one of the hospital’s biggest benefactors. Hunter’s afraid of what Macey might let drop to Mr. Moneybags, so he interrupts their potentially damning conversation and drags her onto the dance floor.”
“How resourceful.” Tori shrieked as Johnny dipped her.
He pulled her upright and grinned. “Hold on tight.”
He twirled her dizzily past an older couple, who turned to stare as they flashed by.
“Dr. Hunter maneuvers Macey into a dark corner of the ballroom,” Johnny said. “No dark corners here on the Boardwalk, so we’ll have to improvise.”
He danced them to the top of the steps leading down to the beach, upon which Johnny scooped Tori into his arms and ran down the stairs.
“You’re nuts!” She clung to his neck.
“Funny, that’s just what Macey tells Hunter. How did you know?”
A laugh bubbled up in her throat. “Put me down.”
He waggled his brows. “My pleasure.” Then he released her with excruciating slowness, sliding her down the length of his body until her feet touched the sand.
“Johnny…”
“Okay, Tori, work with me here. You’re Macey; I’m Hunter. The scene goes like this: You accuse me of murder. I tell you to keep your nose out of things you don’t understand. You threaten to splash my story all over the front page of the
Franklinville Gazette.
Ready?”
“What? You want me to act this out with you? I don’t know what to say!”
“Doesn’t matter. Just ad-lib. I’ll fill in the rest.”
“I can’t—”
His expression morphed from playfulness to anger. “Macey, I’m warning you: Don’t do this.”
Tori blinked. In less time than it took a heart to pulse a single beat, Johnny Santangelo had vanished. In his place was a man who was grim and dangerous, with haunted blue eyes and tension radiating from his lean body.
Dr. Gavin Hunter, a man with a secret to protect.
“Go to the press,” Hunter growled, “and you’ll regret it.”
“I…” Tori floundered for a response. “Um…I’ll regret it more if I stay silent.”
Johnny stepped closer, forcing her to tilt her head back to look up at him. “You think I killed Frank Dermott, don’t you?”
“I’ve…I’ve seen the evidence.”
“Evidence can be faked.”
“Was it faked? I’m not so sure about that.”
He scowled. “It’s not what you think.”
“But, Johnny—”
“Gavin,” he corrected, breaking character to give her a quick grin.
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” She drew a breath and started over. “But, Gavin, I saw the police report with my own eyes. I saw the evidence. It’s an open-and-shut case, unless…unless you can give me something to go on. Something to make me believe in you.”
A breeze fluttered past, blowing a curl into Macey’s—or Tori’s—face. Hunter—or was it Johnny?—tucked it behind her ear. His fingers lingered on her cheek. Traced a path to her lips.
“Macey.” His voice was low and rough as he cradled her head in his hands. “Facts don’t mean anything. You can have all the facts in the world, and still not see the truth. And the truth is this….”
His gaze dropped to her lips.
And then he kissed her.
Nick pushed through the revolving door, glad to exchange the stale atmosphere of the air-conditioned casino for the blast of humid sea air that greeted him on the Boardwalk. His dinner meeting with his potential client had taken longer than he’d expected, and he’d had a hell of a time concentrating on the business at hand.
All he could think of these days was Tori.
The Boardwalk was packed—another hour or so and fireworks would burst over the Steel Pier. He threaded his way through the crowd, working his way toward the railing on the ocean side of the Boardwalk. When he reached it he stood for a moment, just staring over the beach at the darkening ocean.
What was Tori doing tonight? Was she spending the Fourth with her friends? Or sitting home, alone and lonely? More important, was she already pregnant? He counted back to the night he’d found her curled up in bed, her face drawn with pain. A little more than two weeks ago.