“Why aren’t you getting ready? Your date’s going to be here in a few minutes.”
“No, he’s not. He called and canceled last night.”
“Is he sick?”
“He said he forgot that he has to do something with his family and can’t take me. But that’s a lie. He has a girlfriend now and he’s taking her.”
Something white and hot flashed behind his eyes. Something that clenched his jaw and tightened his hands into fists. No one stood up his sister and made her cry. “He can’t do that.” Luc moved farther into the room and looked down at Marie. “Where does he live? I’ll go talk to him. I’ll make him take you.”
“No,” she gasped, mortified, and sat up on the edge of her bed, her eyes wide as she gazed up at Luc. “That’s so embarrassing!”
“Okay, I won’t make him take you.” She was right. Being forced would embarrass her. “I’ll just go over there and kick his ass.”
Her dark brow rose almost to her hairline. “He’s a minor.”
“Good point. Well, I’ll kick his dad’s ass. Anyone who raises his son to stand a girl up deserves to get his ass kicked just on principle.” Luc was serious, but for some reason, that got a smile out of Marie.
“You’d kick Mr. Anderson’s ass for me?”
“I meant butt. Not ass. And of course I would.” He sat next to his sister. “And if I couldn’t get the job done, I know a few hockey players who would feed him his lunch.”
“That’s true.”
He took her hand and studied her stubby fingernails. “Why didn’t you tell me he’d called and canceled?”
She looked away. “I didn’t think you’d really care.”
With his free hand, he brought her gaze back to his. “How can you say that? Of course I care. You’re my sister.”
She shrugged. “I just didn’t think you cared about stuff like dances.”
“Well, you might be right. I don’t care that much about dances and dancing. I never went to any dances at my school because…” He paused and hit her arm with his elbow. “I can’t dance worth a damn. But I care about you.”
One corner of her mouth turned down as if she didn’t believe him.
“You’re my sister,” he said again, as if there were nothing else to explain. “I told you I’d always take care of you.”
“I know.” She looked at her lap. “But taking care of and caring about aren’t the same thing.”
“They are to me, Marie. I don’t take care of people I don’t care about.”
She pulled her hand from his and stood. She moved across the room to a dresser with a pile of bracelets, stuffed bears, and four dried roses on top. Luc knew the white roses had come from her mother’s casket. He didn’t know why she’d taken them or why she kept them now, especially when they made her cry.
“I know you want to send me away,” she said with her back to him.
Oh, boy. He didn’t know how she’d found out, but he supposed that wasn’t important. “I’ve been thinking that you might be happier living with girls your own age instead of me.”
“Don’t lie, Luc. You want to get rid of me.”
Did he? Was getting rid of her so he could go back to his life his major motivation for looking at boarding schools? Maybe a little more than he’d like to admit to himself. Guilt he could no longer ignore squeezed the back of his neck as he stood and walked toward his sister. “I won’t lie to you.” He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. “The truth is, I don’t know what to do with you. I don’t know anything about teenage girls, but I know you’re unhappy. I want to make it better for you, but I don’t know how.”
“I’m unhappy because my mom died,” she said in a small voice. “And nobody and nothing can make that better.”
“I know.”
“And no one wants me.”
“Hey.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I want you and you know Aunt Jenny wants you.” Actually, Jenny only wanted Marie to “visit summers,” but Marie didn’t need to know that. “In fact, she threatened to take me to family court to demand custody. I think she had visions of the two of you wearing matching housecoats.”
Marie’s nose wrinkled. “How come I never heard of that?”
“At the time, you had enough worries,” he evaded. “I have more money than Aunt Jenny if it came to a court battle, so she backed down.”
Marie frowned. “Jenny lives in a retirement village.”
“Yeah, but look on the bright side. She’d make you her special prune pudding every night.”
“Blech!”
Luc smiled and pulled back the cuff of his shirt to look at his watch. The banquet was just about to start. “I’ve got to get going,” he said, but couldn’t quite bring himself to actually leave her alone. “Why don’t you put on your new dress and come with me?”
“Where?”
“To a banquet at the Space Needle.”
“With old people?”
“Not that old. It’ll be fun.”
“Don’t you have to go right now?”
“I’ll wait for you.”
She shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“Come on. The press will be there, and maybe you’ll get your picture in the paper looking so good, old Zack will kick his own ass.”
She laughed. “You mean butt.”
“Right. Butt.” He pushed her toward her closet. “Get your butt in gear,” he said as he left the room and shut the door behind him. He grabbed his tuxedo jacket and moved into the living room to wait. He shrugged into the four-button jacket and hoped Marie shook her tailfeathers, but, typical of all females he’d ever known, she took her time getting ready.
He stood in front of the eight-foot windows and looked out at the city. The rain had stopped, but drops still clung to the glass and smeared the glittering image of Seattle at night, of the towering high-rise buildings and Elliott Bay beyond. He’d purchased this apartment for the view alone, and if he walked through either the kitchen or his bedroom doors on the other side of the apartment, he’d be on the balcony, which had a perfect view of the Space Needle and north Seattle.
Looking out the numerous windows was spectacular, but Luc had to admit that the condo had never really come to feel like home to him. Perhaps because of the modern architecture, or maybe because he’d never lived on top of a city before and it felt a bit like living in a hotel. If he opened the windows or stood out on the balcony, the sounds of cars and buses floated up to the nineteenth floor and reminded him of a hotel too. Even though he was beginning to like Seattle and everything it had to offer, sometimes he had a vague antsy feeling to go home.
When Marie finally emerged from her bedroom, she wore a little rhinestone necklace and a matching headband holding the curls back from her face. Her hair was cute, but the dress-the dress looked awful on her. About two sizes too small. The black velvet fit too tight across her breasts and behind and the small sleeves cut into her arms. Even though Marie usually wore big T-shirts and sweatshirts, he knew she wasn’t fat. But that dress made her look like a chunkster.
“How do I look?” she asked as she turned in a circle for him.
The seam running up the back of the dress pulled to the left across her behind. “You look beautiful.” And above the shoulders, she did look good. Her silver eye shadow was a little strange, though, sparkly like the kind of glitter he’d used in grade school.
“What size is that dress?” Luc asked, and by the look she gave him he immediately realized his mistake. He knew better than to ask a woman her dress size. But Marie wasn’t a woman. She was a girl and she was his sister.
“Why?”