He knocked again. “Your brother made me come all this way. At least let me in to take a piss.”
I jerked the door open. Calvin stood there, looking travel-rumpled but perfect in his ubiquitous khakis and button down shirt. He had new, deeper, worry lines on his forehead. And a wedding ring on his left hand. I blinked at it, cursing myself for even imagining that fine catch such as this man would sit around pining and waiting for me to get over myself and realize what I had right in front of me.
“Come on in,” I said, relieved and jealous and furious with myself all over again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
New York City
Two Years Later
“Come on, Angel, I told you what time to be here.” Aiden’s voice grated on my nerves, but I forced a smile, reminding myself that at least one of the Love family members had a right to be a diva. His fourth book had just been released, and he was in New York for a book signing.
He’d brought the whole damn family, and I’d promised them tickets to one of the big shows, thanks to my connections working in the promotions department for the theater in question.
I sighed and spun my chair, wishing I had the nerve to open my own dance studio, and recalling the conversation I had with Gayle about her planned expansion in Lexington.
“Come home, Angelique,” she’d pleaded with me. “I need your help.”
But I was not going home. I couldn’t face it and all it represented for me, especially knowing Calvin and his wife lived there.
In the two years since my divorce, I’d maintained as much distance as I could, skipping the Love family Christmas with excuses about busy seasons and whatnot involving my new, lame-ass job that at least allowed me to stay in the city. But this year, I knew I’d get roped into the melee. I had about six weeks to figure a way out, but part of me didn’t want to do that.
“All right, all right, hold your water,” I said, grabbing my purse and heading out into the cool, early November air. “I’m coming. I’m just a few blocks away.”
“Hurry, will ya?” He hung up.
Deciding that to walk there would be quicker and cheaper than hailing and paying for a cab, I started hoofing it toward the giant bookstore, where, I was told, they’d had to issue tickets for the A.L. Amatore book reading and signing.
Aiden had taken our father’s family’s old country name as his pen name. The movie based on his first book, the one chronicling our parents’ wild and crazy start as a couple, was being filmed in and around a horse farm in Virginia, since hardly any decent farms remained in Kentucky.
I’d stayed in touch with Cal after he made that trip down to Florida, catching me at my absolute worst. He and his wife, another doctor he’d met and dated in med school after I took a powder and mailed him his ring back like the loser I was, lived in Lexington now with a mortgage, a dog, probably even a white picket fence. But no kids. A fact that gave me a completely inappropriate sense of satisfaction. I tried not to resent the hell out of the woman, considering I’d never met her. I usually failed.
The whole family was descending on my city for this weekend, complete with kids, teenagers, the works. I’d dreaded it like the very plague, but now that the big day had arrived, I found myself looking forward to guiding everyone around, taking them to a show, to some great restaurants, seeing the familiar-to-me sights through their fresh, un-cynical eyes.
I noted the long line out the door of the bookstore, and experienced a thrill of pride for my youngest brother. Although I was also a little squeamish about having my parents’ early lives splashed all over the big screen. Aidan had used different names, but it was well known that he’d based it on their story.
Sometimes, especially lately, a waitress or checkout girl would do a double take at the sight of my name, then shoot me a knowing smile, or flat-out ask me if that sexy Italian stable hand was my father.
I hadn’t read the book, and I didn’t think any of my brothers had, either—even Kieran, the one among them who actually read books.
But today was all about Aiden, “Little A,” as he’d been referred to until he got old and big enough to put a stop to it.
His wife, Rosie, and their kids—Jeff, now an angst-riddled teen, and Mandy, their energetic little girl who’d apparently decided she wanted to be a horsewoman like her grandmother—had been flown in by his publisher and put up at an expensive downtown hotel. He was doing the circuit—national morning talk shows, a few late night ones, and two big signings. Today was the first.
By the time I got past the guy at the door by flashing my VIP pass and made it up to the second floor, everyone was there.
Mama and Daddy had flown in with Antony, Kieran, Margot, and Cara, along with all their kids.
Dominic and Diana drove up with Jace and LeeAnn, planning to leave their kids with various aunts and uncles and cousins while they spent a week at a bed and breakfast near Ithaca. A working vacation, Dom claimed, since he was guest brewing at a famous craft brewery up there. They’d been married for nearly six years, after a rudimentary justice of the peace blessing, but had never gone on a honeymoon. Too busy with the brewery and the expansion of the pub menu, since Diana had taken over that kitchen, they claimed. Kieran said Dom said they believed it would be a jinx to have a ceremony, which made our mama nuts, but she adored Diana so she stayed mostly quiet on the subject.
I hugged everyone, exclaimed over kids, including AliceLynn’s new baby. I’d been the maid of honor at her wedding right after my divorce. That had been, in a word, humiliating.
“You’re late,” Mama said, and rubbed something off my cheek with her finger.
“Don’t spit shine me.” I ducked out of her reach.
She frowned and sighed, shouldering her purse and glaring at the growing crowd. “I hate these things,” she said. Daddy put an arm around her and kissed her forehead. “How’s the job?”
“Fine,” I said, unwilling to explain how much I hated it.
The doors had finally opened, and the long line was moving forward, headed to the escalators. Rosie gave Aiden one more kiss, then herded her kids over to us. Mandy latched on to her grandma.
“Let’s go find a horse book,” she insisted. Mama smiled and smoothed her curly brown hair.
I glanced over my shoulder and spotted Antony with his son, Josh, Mandy’s counterpoint cousin, born within hours of each other. The boy had his mother Margot’s looks, coolly blond with ice blue eyes, but the Love family jaw line and chin dimple. Since he was growing into his father’s attitude, I knew they were in for a seriously wild ride once he discovered how his stark, aloof good looks would be catnip to girls.
Kieran had Sean, his youngest, on his shoulders. Cara stood next to Frankie, their oldest. Margot was fussing over AliceLynn’s baby nearby.
My breath caught in my throat at the sight of them all. Desire for stability, a good man, and a family had been consuming me lately. I figured it was my biological clock, tick-tocking away within my apparently barren body. Explicit and constant dreams about Calvin Morrison woke me nearly every night, leaving me pissed off, feeling sorry for myself, and insomniac.
A sharp smack on my butt made me shriek. Dom stood behind me, shit-eating grin on his face. Diana walked over to hug my parents. Jace had her little girl LeeAnn by the hand. The child was the spitting image of her father, Lee, the vet. I wondered how Dominic could stand it. But we all knew LeeAnn had him so tightly wrapped around her tiny finger, he was a total goner. Which, the entire Love family executive board agreed, was about damn time.
We all turned to look at our youngest brother Aiden, who was sitting, sipping water, and looking sheepish at the sight of the masses of people who’d come to hear him read and have him autograph their book.