“Dad built all the homes on the cul-de-sac,” one of Cat’s brothers—Danny, if Law remembered correctly—supplied. “A house for each of his kids. He wants to keep our family close.”
Close felt claustrophobic to Law. He fingered the invisible escape card. He’d give himself one more minute, then split. Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight.
“Let’s grab you a hamburger.” Roger nodded toward the barbecue. “One with the works.”
“Another beer?” Danny asked as he took Law’s empty.
“You must try the potato salad and baked beans,” Cavanaugh insisted. “They’re old family recipes.”
“Some other time,” was all Law could manage.
Catherine May sensed Law’s withdrawal. His vibe was polite but restrained, his gaze now shuttered. He’d met every one of her forty-two relatives and now needed his space.
She loved her family and the way they came together as a unit. She also understood that en masse they could shell shock an outsider. James Lawless had outstayed his intended time.
Cat made a show of looking at her watch. “Sorry, but Law has to leave.”
Her mother looked disappointed. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” she bade him.
“Stop back again,” her father invited.
Law nodded, unable to speak.
Cat walked him back to his car. Mike dragged himself from under the hood and rolled his shoulders. “A wet dream on wheels,” he said as he lowered the hood. “Ever drive it full out?”
Law shook his head. “I’d need a racetrack.”
Mike’s older sister, Mari, jogged over. “Time for dessert. Grandma made your favorite: root-beer-float cake.”
“Lame cake,” Mike scoffed in front of Law. “I’m not eight anymore.”
Cat caught the look on Law’s face. Eight was the age he’d lost his parents. His gaze held shadows as he said, “I had Orange Crush cake with raisins at every birthday.”
“Shit, man, for real?” Mike stared hard.
Law nodded. “For real.”
Cat watched her brother’s kids walk away. They bumped shoulders and tried to trip each other all the way to their driveway. Cat was amazed neither took a nosedive.
“How often do you celebrate?” Law found his voice.
“Several times a week,” she answered. “When Cassie was potty trained at eighteen months, she was rewarded with Gerber sweet potatoes while the rest of us grilled hot dogs and made s’mores. We splurged on pork chops when my sister Sarah passed her dental hygienist exam. The coals in the barbecue never cool.”
Law went quiet as he passed her the invisible escape card. “I appreciate the out.”
“You were never fully in.”
“I’ll meet you at Driscoll Financial tomorrow at ten. I’m taking Bouncer to Give the Dog a Bone. You should bring Foxie, too.” Keying the engine, he made a U-turn. The taillights on his sports car were soon lost to the night.
“Law is one fine-looking man.” Cat’s sister Sarah joined her at the curb.
“He’s one hell of a ballplayer.” Cat’s brother Danny crossed the street with long strides. He held a paper plate with a huge piece of cake. “Had it not been Mike’s night, I would have asked for an autograph.”
“He has commitment issues,” Cat’s mom noted as she crossed to her children. “He’s the Tin Man.”
Law had a heart, Cat knew, yet tragedy had broken him at a young age. He’d closed off the world that had hurt him. She’d hoped her family’s warmth might have touched him, yet he’d gone stiff and on guard and never fully relaxed.
“He needs a haircut,” Roger May stated as he wrapped his arms around his wife’s shoulders.
“I like it long,” Cat said without thinking. Her cheeks heated, and she was glad they stood in shadow.
“Sure he’s only a client?” her sister pressed.
A flash of Law as Captain America zapped Cat. He had a superhero body and was Rogue hot. The combo fluttered her tummy. “We’re all business,” she tried to convince both her sister and herself.
Darkness soon snuck across the yards as the families unplugged their outdoor lighting. It was time to call it a night. Cat tracked down Mike, gave him a hug, then headed home. Her house sat on the southern tip of the cul-de-sac, a three-bedroom with wide window seats in the living room, a small gourmet kitchen, and a short back porch with red patio furniture, where she could unwind and watch the sun set.
The fact that her entire house could fit in Law’s living room hit her hard.
She also realized that the four tires on his Bugatti cost more than her Volvo.
Their dinner tonight equaled a month’s worth of her groceries.
A single vintage Superman comic cost more than she’d make in a lifetime. Perhaps two lifetimes.
At the end of the day, she felt no envy or want, only empathy for Law. She had family, and that was priceless.
Chapter 4
Driscoll Financial
Seven AM
Catherine May arrived at the office just as Merry Maids were about to depart. The cleaning team was making a final sweep. Cat didn’t expect any of the financiers to show until closer to nine. Zen had left a message on her cell phone. He planned to take Ellie to school, as her science fair project was too big for her to carry on the school bus. The young girl had studied the saltwater ecosystem of peppermint shrimp. Zen didn’t want the aquarium sloshing onto the other bus riders.
Cat’s first stop was her office. She released a wiggly Foxie from her shoulder-bag mesh carrier. The puppy liked to hide and took refuge under Cat’s desk.
She next prepared a pot of rain-forest-nut coffee in her personal Keurig and left it to brew. Returning to the hallway, she heard the front door open and close with a quiet click. It wasn’t unusual for clients to drop by early; this man, however, was far earlier than most.
The muted hall sconces left him in shadow until he reached reception. In the harsher light, Cat took him in. She’d seen him before, but only from a distance. The man had been speaking to Zen at the time. A comfortable conversation during which Zen had smiled a lot and the older man had nodded often, as if in approval.
As he now neared Cat, she guessed him to be in his late seventies, perhaps early eighties. His hair was more silver than white and his brown eyes were sharp. His persona was as tailored as his black suit. His walking cane was dapper. He looked regal and rich, a man who could loan King Midas gold. He was that mesmerizing.