Release (33 page)

“You know what? Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer,” she told Carol.

Carol gave her some advice on some new video releases she might enjoy, and they concluded their conversation.

It was with a slightly less heavy heart that Genevieve dug some velvet lounging pants out of her bag and slipped out of her black dress pants. Might as well get cozy.

If there was a weekend that needed to be extended for a day or two, it was definitely this one. Now that she’d made her decision, she found herself looking forward to the prospect of seeing Sean for lunch—of spending another night with him—more than she’d ever anticipated anything in her life.

She’d tried to call Jim on Saturday, but ended up getting his voice message, so she was glad to see his name on her caller identification when her cell phone rang a few minutes later.

Jim was immensely relieved to hear that nothing he’d done or hadn’t done had inadvertently caused the fire. He explained to her that he’d returned to the scene of the fire on Saturday and the chief had asked if Jim would like to take a hodgepodge of items that had been removed from the ruins.

“There isn’t much, and what there is seems pretty fire-damaged. Would you like me to drive it down to the city so you can take a look at it?” Jim asked.

“No, absolutely not, Jim. I’m sure it’s just a bunch of junk.”

“Well, some of the stuff may be something you value. It’s a miracle, but one photo of Max and his father survived with only minimal scorching. I was so happy to see it.”

Genevieve blinked burning eyelids when she heard the slight tremor in Jim’s voice. Jim had taken care of Max for so long. He was sixty-seven years old, and he’d worked for Max in one capacity or another for forty of those years. He’d first been employed by Maximillian Sauren, Sr.—who had also held a high level position at the CIA.

Max’d learned secrets and Machiavellian machinations from the breast, no doubt.

It seemed that Jim’s unfailing generosity and sincerity had never been dimmed by living in a house of secrets. Maybe Jim represented all that was good in Max.

“You keep that photo, Jim.”

He protested loudly, but Genevieve was firm. He finally relented, but Genevieve couldn’t stop him from insisting upon delivering the items to her. Even when she explained that she had nowhere to put the items here in the penthouse, Jim offered to take the items for storage to her mother’s house in Gary.

“They’ve opened the interstates, and it’ll be nice for me to get out after being holed up during this storm. Besides, I’d like to see Marietta and Roberta again,” Jim said, referring to Genevieve’s mom and aunt. All three of them were of an age and had met on many occasions, like dinners at Max and Genevieve’s house, their wedding . . .

Max’s funeral.

“No, Jim, it’s really not necess—”

“I need to
do
something, Genevieve.”

Genevieve sighed, hearing the subtle plea in his voice. “Of course, I understand. Do you have my aunt’s address?”

“Yep. I’ve got it right here. Roberta Cline, 5437 Grove Street.”

“And you’re really going to go
now
?”

“Sure,” he said, sounding more like the spry, energetic Jim she was used to.

She laughed softly. “Okay. Thanks so much, Jim. Please tell my mom I’ll call tonight. And Jim?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want you worrying about your job or your pay. You have a position in my employ as long as you want it.”

“That’s nice of you to say, Genevieve,” he replied gruffly after a pause. “Don’t know that there’ll be much for me to do, depending on where you decide to live ’n’ all.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ve come to rely on you too much for you to even begin to consider retirement. I’d be lost without you.”

As she was saying good-bye to Jim she heard someone tap on the penthouse door.

“Hi!”

She caught a glimpse of Carol Fallia’s short blonde hair when she opened the front door before Carol rushed her and gave her a tight hug. A moment later, Carol leaned back and studied her.

“You look fabulous. Only you could experience a catastrophe like you did this weekend and end up looking like you just returned from some kind of sexy vacation on a beach. Sounds like something from one of the plots of the movies I ordered for you,” Carol said as she released Genevieve and jostled a white bag. She grinned widely. “Are you really doing okay, Genevieve?”

“I’m fine. It’s so great to see you again,” Genevieve said. “You’ve lost weight, haven’t you? And I love what you did with your hair.”

Carol smiled girlishly and fingered her jaw-length, asymmetrically cut blonde hair. “Jamie and I have a joke that he gains a pound for every one that I lose. Thank goodness for the Sauren-Kennedy workout facility.” She glanced around the penthouse with curious green eyes. “Nice digs. I always wondered what this place looked like. I was going to come up with the maid once, just to be nosy, but Sean piled some stuff on my desk, and I never got around to it. The man’s a tyrant.” She gave Genevieve a wink. “He’s such an adorable tyrant, I have no choice but to put up with it, though.”

Genevieve laughed. “Come in and have a cup of coffee.”

“Sure.”

They sipped coffee in the living room and caught up. After twenty minutes or so, Carol checked her watch and squawked. “I better get going. I should check on Sean to see if he needs anything for his meeting.”

“You spoil him,” Genevieve teased as she stood with Carol. “I can’t believe he talked you into coming in this weekend because of that big project. Good thing the snow kept you home. You’d think he didn’t know you had a family.”

“What big project?”

Genevieve paused in the action of picking up their coffee cups. “I thought Sean mentioned some kind of big project that made it necessary for him to . . .”

She finished the rest of her sentence in her thoughts when she saw Carol’s mystified expression. She obviously had no idea what Genevieve was talking about.

Sean Kennedy,
Genevieve thought irritably.
You great big liar.

Her frown seemed to cause understanding to dawn on Carol’s face. She grinned. “Is
that
what Sean told you? That he was working on some kind of project, and that’s why he needed to stay here? I was wondering what the heck you two were talking about on the phone Saturday. He’d have to hog-tie me to get me here on a weekend. Well, you know Sean. He always finds a way to get what he wants . . . one way or another.”

Carol gave her a knowing glance.

Genevieve hid her irritation and anxiety. Great. If it wasn’t bad enough that Sean had manipulated her to get her to stay in the penthouse with him, now Carol seemed to be getting ideas about their relationship.

“Carol . . . I wish you wouldn’t mention anything about . . . this,” she waved vaguely around the penthouse, “to anyone. It’s not what you think.”

Now Genevieve had taken up lying.

Carol waved her hand and made a pishing noise. “I worked for Max, and now Sean, Genevieve. I know how to keep a secret with the best of them. Besides, I don’t really know anything unless you
tell
me, right?”

She quirked a plucked, frosted eyebrow at Genevieve significantly.

Genevieve laughed good-naturedly at Carol’s subtle invitation to spill the goods about her and Sean, but she felt a little queasy as she showed her out of the penthouse. Carol’s casual comment about Max, Sean, and secrets had unsettled her deeply.

She wasn’t really mad at Sean for lying about needing to stay there. His lie indicated his degree of desperation—and determination—to be with her, after all. It’d irritated her, but she understood why he’d done it. She’d been dead set against them staying there together, after all.

But the promise of the day had been dimmed somehow, Genevieve realized with a sinking feeling.

She wandered into the living room and checked a clock on one of the tables. Sean wouldn’t be up for a while. She listlessly picked up the white bag of videos, figuring she’d watch one of them and try to relax. Sean was right. She had been strung as taut as a high wire ever since she’d seen Sean. He was also right about the fact that the only time she wasn’t rigid with stress was when he was holding her in his arms.

Or making her insane with lust.

After examining her two movie choices, she picked the romantic comedy, thinking Sean wouldn’t mind missing that one as much as he might the suspense drama.

She inserted the disc and picked up the remote control. As she cuddled up on the velvet couch, she wondered if she was joking herself about relaxing when Detective Franklin was out there somewhere, relentlessly doing his job.

And potential witnesses like Carol accumulated.

She was about to hit the PLAY button when the penthouse phone rang.

“Hello?”

“What’cha doing?”

Warmth flooded her at the sound of his deep drawl.

“I was going to watch one of the videos Carol brought up.”

“Uh-huh. And what are you wearing?”

“I guess you’ll just have to come up here and find out.”

She could perfectly visualize the slow spread of his potent grin.

“I’m gonna do exactly that.” He dropped his voice volume. “I worked up quite an appetite last night.”

“Is that right?”

“Gawd’s truth. Mike Butler might have been talking Swahili while he updated me on his case this morning. All I could think about was burying my nose in your—”

“Neck,” he finished innocently.

Genevieve snorted. “Carol and I had a nice visit when she delivered the videos earlier. She had no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned that big project you were working on.” A taut silence followed. “You remember? The big project that made it so imperative that you absolutely
had
to stay in the penthouse this weekend?”

“Don’t be mad about that, Genny You were in shock. I had to think of something to stay with you here. I was desperate.”

“You got that straight,” she muttered under her breath. Still, a grin tilted her lips. It was a relatively minor lie, after all. And he’d only been doing it because he cared about her. Besides. What right did she have to judge him?

They all had their secrets.

The thought amplified her anxiety all over again. She
wanted
just to forget everything for a while. She
wanted
to glory in Sean, in the richness of their burgeoning relationship. Why did the harshness of reality have to keep interfering in her thoughts when she was trying so hard to keep it at bay for a while?

“When are you coming up here, Sean?”

“So . . . I’m forgiven?”

He chuckled softly. “I guess that means ‘yes.’ I just need to look over a few things and I’ll be up in an hour and a half or so.”

“That long?”

“Less than an hour, most likely.”

“Come quicker.”

A pregnant silence ensued.

“Are you teasing me, girl?”

She closed her eyes and smiled. She could perfectly imagine him leaning forward with his elbows on his desk—the familiar hard gleam entering his blue eyes.

“If I am, it’s all for a good cause.”

“Forty-five minutes. Tops,” Sean growled softly before he hung up the phone.

As soon as Sean set down his phone, Carol knocked and entered. She gave him a funny look as she stepped into the office.

“What?” Sean asked.

Carol shrugged. “Who was on the phone? You look like you’re about to kick some butt and take no prisoners.”

He laughed as he flipped open his laptop. “Don’t worry. I’ll show mercy to this particular captive.”

“I’m off for lunch. Do you want me to pick anything up for you and Genevieve while I’m out?”

“No, there’s plenty of food in the penthouse.”

“It sure was nice to see Genevieve again,” Carol reflected with a smile. “She’s so calm, so elegant, you know? I remember how contained she was at Max’s funeral. She actually comforted
me.
I felt like a real heel.”

“She disguises her anxiety extremely well,” Sean murmured as he opened a file. Personally, he’d always been able to read Genevieve’s nerve level like bold, neon print.

“I guess so. I mean . . . her house just burned down, and she chatted with me this morning as if the only thing she had to worry about was getting a dress to the dry cleaner. I’d be a basket case if my house had just burned down. Do you suppose
everything
is gone?”

“I don’t see how much could have survived that blaze. The insurance report indicated it was a complete loss of property.”

“That’s just awful. I’d freak out if I lost all the kids’ baby pictures . . . or our wedding photos. What a shame. You’d think
something
could be salvaged,” Carol muttered with a sigh before she left Sean’s office.