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  He shrugged off her gratitude the way he shrugged off everything else, with a note of indifference that completely mystified her. “Don’t know about thanks, but I thought you might need the support.”

  Maybe there was more to this man than just commando training. “I did. Thanks.” She paused, trying desperately to lift the fog from her brain. “And thanks for the flower arrangement.” Thinking of it, she smiled. “It dwarfed everything else.” She had a feeling that it was supposed to. The man liked to think of himself as larger than life.

  “I’m glad you liked it.”

  The room felt chilly. This was a colder autumn than most. She pulled the covers closer. “I was surprised you didn’t come, since you told everyone else about the wake. I kept looking for you.”

  There was a long pause on the other end. “Funerals are not my thing. I’ve seen too many good men put in the ground already.” He gave serious thought to hanging up before she could probe further, but he hadn’t gotten to the reason for his call. “So how’s it going?”

  Was he being actually friendly? She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost midnight. Was there a full moon out? Was that the reason for this show of civility? “You want that blow by blow, or a Reader’s Digest summary?”

  “The latter.”

  Elisha smiled to herself. She would have put money on his choosing that version.

  “Rough, but I’ll make it.” Even as she said it, she didn’t wholeheartedly believe it. But Sutherland wasn’t someone she’d be willing to pour out her innermost insecurities to. The man respected strength, not weakness. Then, because she felt she had to say something, she added, “I’ve been interviewing nannies all day.”

  “Sounds like you didn’t find one.”

  She tried not to notice that having his distinctly male voice rumbling against her ear was stirring something within her. Probably had to do with the fact that she hadn’t been with a man for so long, she was no longer sure which end was up. And though she hated to admit it, Sutherland did have a sexy voice.

  “Actually, I did,” she told him. “I just need to check out her references.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Samantha Wentworth. Why?”

  It was clear by his tone that he didn’t like explaining himself. “I probably have a lot better sources than you do.”

  “For checking out nannies?”

  “As long as they come under the heading of human beings,” Sutherland said crisply, cutting short any further speculation on her part. “How soon do you need to know?”

  Okay, we’ll talk your language. “ASAP.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  It was as good as a promise and she knew it. One less thing to worry about.

  Settling back against the pillow, she slowly wound the cord around her finger. Curiosity got the better of her. “Why did you call, Ryan?”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line. She wondered if it was because she’d called him by his first name. Had she crossed some imaginary line she shouldn’t have? She half expected to hear a click. Instead, he answered her.

  “To see if you’ve thought about rescheduling your appearance at the poker game. I’ve got one going this Friday.”

  Friday. She’d missed the game two weeks ago. God, had it been two weeks already? Two weeks since Henry had died? It felt like aeons, and at the same time, like just yesterday. Without work to serve as her guide, the days somehow seemed to meld into one another without form or designation.

  When she made no answer, he was all set to shrug it off. “All right, maybe it’s too soon. I’ll—”

  “It’s not too soon,” she interrupted. “Besides—” she smiled to herself “—as I remember, the fate of your manuscript lies in the balance.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” he contradicted, his voice as sober as a judge doling out a death sentence. “My manuscript is just fine.”

  Somehow, they were back to the same argument. She had no idea why, but it made her smile. Probably because she missed familiar ground. “Oh, it’ll sell, Sutherland.”

  “Damn straight it’ll sell.”

  “But,” she continued with feeling, “it’ll sell more copies and gain you a measure of respect if you do it my way.”

  He exhaled in what she could only take to be exasperation. “Still cocky even after everything.”

  I am so far from cocky, you’d need a road map to find your way back to the first C. But it wasn’t anything she would readily admit to him. “Hey, if it works…”

  Sutherland wasn’t about to listen to anymore. “Okay, the game’ll be at my house on the island.” Then, in case she didn’t have it, he gave her the address.

  All the phone numbers where she could reach him plus his two residences were already entered in her BlackBerry. What she wasn’t prepared for was that he was holding the game at his house rather than his Tribeca apartment. “I thought your friends liked to play in the city.”

  “No,” he contradicted with a touch of impatience, “I said my friends played when they were in the city. But I’ve decided to relocate it this time.” Then, before she could get a chance to ask him why, he told her. “So that you wouldn’t be too far from the girls.”

  Thoughtful. Ryan Sutherland was being thoughtful. It had to be some kind of trick. The man was setting her up for something.

  She was still waiting to find out what that something was when he hung up several minutes later.

  CHAPTER 28

  “You going on a date?” Andrea asked incredulously that Friday when Elisha asked her to stay with Beth in the evening.

  She hadn’t called it anything at all, but if she had, it wouldn’t have been a date. Dates were for people who still nurtured the hope for a social life. She’d given that notion up after Garry left.

  “It’s not a date. I’m going out to play poker with some friends.”

  The game didn’t seem to matter to Andrea. The destination, however, did. The teenager eyed her. “In the city?”

  “No, just a few miles away, actually.” She’d had no idea that Henry and Ryan Sutherland lived so close to one another. She hadn’t made the connection until she’d looked it up on her BlackBerry this morning and the address had sunk in. The world was a grab bag of constant surprises to her. “I need you to stay home with Beth until I get back.” She didn’t estimate that it would be too late in the evening. She’d win, put Sutherland in his place and be back by eleven. Maybe eleven-thirty.

  Andrea looked at her moodily. “Why don’t you hire a sitter?”

  “I am,” Elisha said brightly. “You.” She’d babysat for the neighbors when she was younger than Andrea. There was no reason why the girl couldn’t stay with her sister.

  Andrea lifted her chin defiantly. If she was stuck, she was going to make the most of it. “Sitters get paid.”

  She’d expected something like this. Maybe she was getting better at the game. Still, she asked, “You want money for watching your sister?”

  Andrea blew out a loud sigh. “No, I want money to make up for my not going out tonight. I can’t do that if I’m going to be here babysitting.”

  She supposed Andrea had a point. And if she went along with it, she’d at least seem as if she was willing to compromise. That had to earn her some points with the girl. “Well, since I’m spoiling your plans for the evening, I’ll pay you for watching Beth.” It had been almost thirty years since she’d babysat and had no idea what the going rate was. “How much?”

  Andrea shrugged. “For you, I’ll take five bucks an hour.”

  Fifty cents had been the going rate when she had sat for the O’Hara twins. It should have been fifty cents an hour plus combat pay. In comparison, sitting for Beth was a walk in the park.

  “I’ll make sure I’m not gone too long,” Elisha promised.

  Andrea stood back and gave her the once-over in slow, sweeping glances. And then she laughed dismissively. “Looking like that, you should be back befo
re you even leave.”

  Elisha narrowed her eyes. She saw nothing wrong with the casual pants and loose, nondescript blouse she was wearing. She wasn’t sure if this was the outfit she was ultimately going to wear, but the look on Andrea’s face made her feel insecure. “Looking like what?”

  “Lame.”

  Elisha glanced down at her outfit. It was neat, clean and the colors didn’t clash. It was a poker game, for God’s sake. “You think this is lame?”

  The small noise Andrea made had definite rude overtones. “Well, not for a grandmother.” And then she frowned. Elisha saw that her niece was looking at the glasses that she’d shoved on top of her head. “You gotta wear those glasses?”

  “Only if I want to read the numbers on the cards. I’ve gotten rather blind when it comes to close work.”

  Andrea’s expression said she didn’t think much of the excuse, but she’d let it slide. For now. “Okay, then how about your hair?”

  Instinctively, Elisha put her hand to her hair, as if to protect it from any insults that were coming. “What about my hair?”

  Andrea had begun to circle her like a drill sergeant in the middle of a major inspection. “Well, for one thing, it hasn’t seen fit to come out of the nineties.”

  Elisha turned her head so that she could keep her niece in her sights. “Excuse me?”

  “Your hairstyle, very yesterday. And the color’s dull.” Having come full circle, Andrea stopped to stand in front of her again. Judging by the girl’s expression, she hadn’t passed whatever test Andrea had subjected her to. “Like your clothes.”

  Back to the clothes again, Elisha thought, just a little annoyed at all this critiquing. “I’m going to play cards, Andie, not try to seduce somebody.”

  “Good thing, because you sure wouldn’t be able to, not unless it was some guy with a seeing-eye dog.”

  Elisha pretended to wince. “Ouch.” The comment had been harsh, but she wasn’t about to let Andrea see that it had hurt her. That made her too vulnerable.

  “Sorry, I call it as I see it. You’ve got to get with it,” Andrea insisted. “People know you’re my aunt now.”

  “And you have an image to maintain,” Elisha guessed.

  Her expression said the conclusion was self-evident. “Well, duh.”

  Elisha looked over her shoulder toward Beth. The little girl had been standing there, listening to the entire exchange. Might as well have the peanut gallery put in their two cents’ worth, she thought.

  “How about you, Beth?” She beckoned the girl forward. “Do I look bad to you?”

  Crossing to join them, Beth raised her face up to her. “You look like Aunt Elisha.”

  Beside her, Andrea stifled a laugh. Elisha wasn’t sure if Beth’s comment was a good thing or a bad thing. It certainly did nothing to bolster her sagging morale. She’d been doing fine until she’d gotten the once-over from Andrea. Of course, they moved in different worlds, she and Andrea. But she had to admit that the woman looking back at her from the mirror over the fireplace did look a little, well, matronly.

  When had that happened?

  When had she stopped looking hot? She could remember looking hot once. Could remember hearing one of her boyfriends refer to her that way. And she could remember when her appearance had been all-important to her.

  It stopped being important to her the day that Garry left.

  After that, she got too tired, too wrapped up in her growing career at Randolph & Sons to really care what she looked like as long as it was presentable. Her eyes widened as she looked, really looked at herself, perhaps seeing herself for the first time in years.

  Somehow, she’d allowed herself to slide into the stereotype of a middle-aged woman without even realizing it was happening. Certainly without putting up a fight to prevent it.

  Elisha suddenly glanced down at her midriff. Well, at least she’d lost those annoying pounds that had seen fit to sneak up on her over the years, although she wouldn’t have recommended the method that had brought her to this lighter weight.

  Exhaling a cleansing breath, she looked at Andrea. “Okay, what do you suggest?”

  Andrea struggled not to look as smug as she felt. “Let me do your hair and makeup.”

  Given some of the things that passed as acceptable in the under-thirty set, she wasn’t altogether sure if that was such a good idea. Especially since Andrea suddenly looked eager. “Whoa, are you still mad at me?”

  Andrea paused to consider the question. Right now, they were living within the boundaries of a tentative treaty. “No, I guess not.”

  She would have preferred hearing more enthusiasm in the girl’s voice, but she supposed she would take what she could get.

  “Okay, then I guess you can have access to my face and hair.” Andrea was already grabbing her by the hand and leading her up the stairs to her room. “If I like what you do,” Elisha qualified, “I’ll go with it.”

  “What can I do?” Beth wanted to know as she hurried up the stairs behind them.

  Thank God she still had one of them in her corner. She looked over her shoulder at the little girl as Andrea led her into her room. “You can tell me if she’s messing me up.”

  Beth seemed more than happy to be accommodating. “Okay,” she chirped.

  Andrea’s room was a compilation of piles. Piles of clothing, piles of books, piles of DVDs and CDs. Somehow, to the teenager, there was order in the heart of the chaos. Andrea brought her over to a chair and gestured toward it.

  Elisha had no idea why she was even concerned about the way she looked. She’d always made sure that her clothes, suits mostly, were always cleaned and pressed. But beyond that, she no longer gave her wardrobe much thought.

  Yet it seemed important to look good tonight. She supposed she wanted to look her best while delivering the death blow.

  “All right, Andrea,” she said, sitting down. “I’m all yours.” It was a swivel chair and she pivoted it into position. “Just be gentle.”

  Andrea rolled her eyes even as she went into her bathroom to retrieve her arsenal.

  Ryan stood in the doorway, one hand leaning on the doorknob. He was staring at the woman who had just rung his bell.

  This was his editor?

  There’d clearly been some kind of change since he’d last seen her. The woman had on a leather jacket with a red turtleneck peering out from the top, but what had actually caught his attention was the pencil-slim black skirt she was wearing. It ended several inches above her knees.

  He hadn’t even realized that Elisha Reed had skin above her knees. She’d always made him think of some kind of prim, proper stereotypical spinster who’d given herself over to a career in letters. Obviously, he was going to have to rethink his initial conception of the woman in light of her appearance now.

  The skin above the knees looked quite appealing. She had nice legs, he decided. And cleaned up a hell of a lot better than he thought she might.

  He raised an eyebrow, not finished with his perusal. “Max?”

  She stifled the urge to tug on the edge of Andrea’s skirt. She wasn’t used to anything so short, and the way Sutherland was looking at her was making her nervous. He was probably trying to rattle her so that she wouldn’t play well. Well, she was on to him.

  As if to show him that, she tossed her head. The hair that Andrea had spent the better part of an hour and a half lightening and working over moved in response. Rather than wearing it up and away from her face, the way she ordinarily did, it fell in waves just a little shy of her shoulders. She wasn’t sure if she liked it yet, but it was different.

  “Yes.”

  Sutherland stepped back, admitting her into the house. She was very aware that he was giving her a very slow once-over. “You do know that it’s regular poker we’re playing and not strip.”

  Inside, she turned to look at him. “Yes, why?”

  “Just making sure.” His face was a mask, damn him. “Not that the latter might not be interesting,” he allowed.
“It just never occurred to me to play it before since there were only male faces around the table.”

  Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. But she’d come so far and she wasn’t about to let him see that she was having second thoughts. She had to see this through.

  “Regular poker is all I’m here to play,” she informed him crisply.

  “And you intend to cheat.”

  Now he had her mad. Except for one algebra test back in ninth grade, she’d never cheated on anything in her life. “What?”

  Still keeping her in the foyer, his gaze was unrelenting. “Lady, you came to play dressed like that hoping to distract the rest of us.”

  She shot him a look. “Would you like me to put on a burka?”

  He considered the idea for a moment. Granted, the woman wasn’t model thin, but then, women who looked as if they’d fall over at the first sign of a spring breeze had never interested him. He liked to feel something in his arms when he held a woman.

  “Might not be a bad idea,” he told her. “You’re blonder.”

  “Sunshine.” She caught the tip of her tongue between her teeth.

  He knew better. “In a bottle?”

  “Maybe.”

  Ryan nodded his approval. “Becoming.”

  The smile started inside of her before it ever reached her lips. “Thank you.”

  “Doesn’t mean I’ll let you cheat.”

  She met his gaze head-on. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

  With a nod, Sutherland turned to lead the way to his game room.

  CHAPTER 29

  There were five players around the circular table in Sutherland’s game room, all men. All, Elisha judged, around the bestselling author’s age.

  Looking at them, she could almost feel the brotherhood they shared. Though they varied in size and appearance, all looked fit, as if they could go on a fifty-mile forced march with sixty-pound backpacks at the drop of a poker chip. She had a feeling that love of poker was not the only thing the men shared. They probably shared a common past, as well. A past, if her limited information was correct, that no one else would ever be completely privy to. People in that world were never entirely debriefed, not even before God.