On Second Thought(57)

“No! Daniel, you’ll just make thing worse.” She looked at me. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Daniel growled.

“He’s probably not going to do anything.” Tears spilled over and ran down her perfect cheeks.

“I’m less than reassured,” Daniel said. “Come on. Tell me. Right now.”

Lizzie looked at me, rather than her brother. “It’s just...like, I was walking home the other day, and I heard him laughing, but when I turned around, I didn’t see anyone. And then... I don’t know. My phone rings at two in the morning, and it’s ‘Unknown Caller.’ He never liked the idea of me trying to be a model. Yesterday, there was a note in my locker that said I was ugly.”

Daniel started to say something, but I put my hand on his arm to stop him.

“You know,” I told Lizzie gently, “if I had a pesky ex and a big strong firefighter brother, I’d probably work that angle.”

“Listen to her. She’s smart,” Daniel said.

“I just want him to leave me alone. I don’t think he’d...do anything. You know. Hurt me.”

Daniel’s arm turned from old-fashioned hard to iron under my hand. I squeezed his biceps to keep him calm (and for the thrill of it). “Right,” I said. “But even if he’s harmless and just being a jerk, it can’t hurt for him to know you have this guy, you know what I mean?”

She picked her cuticle again. “Yeah. I guess.”

“So maybe your brother should have a word with him.”

“She’s right,” Daniel said, standing up. “Let’s go.”

“Daniel! Not this second! I’m getting my pictures done!”

“What’s more important, you idiot?” he snapped. “Pictures, or your safety?”

“God! I knew I shouldn’t have said anything!”

“Okay, how about this?” I asked. “Does this boy live fairly close?”

“Yes. Over on 8th Avenue.”

“Let’s finish this part of the shoot. Then you and Daniel can go talk to the guy, Max and I will get a coffee, and we’ll meet you at Daniel’s after.”

“Perfect,” Daniel said, crossing his Thor-like arms.

“No. Please come with us,” Lizzie said. “Daniel will beat Ewan up, and then the police will come and Daniel will get fired and Mom will have a fit and tell me how she’d only planned to have four kids, not five.”

“Ewan?” Daniel said. “You dated a guy named Ewan? You didn’t sleep with him, did you? Because that would break Ma’s heart, and then I have to kill him, and you will go to the convent.”

“Daniel, shush,” I said. “You’re not in a position to criticize names. Didn’t you date a girl named Waterfall once?”

He glared at me. “I don’t remember.”

“Of course you don’t, you slut,” Lizzie said.

Max sighed, which silenced the rest of us. “Let me fix your makeup, honey. Then your brother can go scare the shit out of this boy, and we’ll all be in the mood for drama shots.”

“Like there’s not enough drama with her already,” Daniel muttered.

But Lizzie perked up, and within fifteen minutes, I had some gorgeous shots of her, her shiny hair and lovely smile.

“You just glow in this one,” I said, showing her the shot. “And your eyes here are gorgeous.”

Daniel was pacing, his arms crossed, which made for some first-rate arm porn. “Can we get going here? Someone threatened my little sister. I’d like to take care of it.”

The little sister sighed. “Chill, Daniel.” Now that the problem had a solution, she seemed back to normal.

Max glanced at his watch. “As much as I’d love to come and stand in the background like the angel of death,” he whisper-said, which was exactly what I’d pictured, “I have to pick up the boys from soccer.”

“Okay. I can handle the rest without you. Thanks, Max.”

“Talk to you tomorrow.” He walked off. A nearby toddler looked at him and ran wailing to her mommy, making me smile. Good old Max.

I put my camera in the bag. “You sure you guys want me to come?”

“Yes!” Lizzie said. “Please. If you don’t mind.”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s kind of...” Fun, I was going to say. But it was, sort of. So much better than being back home.

Daniel grabbed my bag and the light reflector. He already had Lizzie’s suitcase. “Want me to carry something?” I offered.

“Please. I’m a New York City firefighter. I could carry all this, you, her and a German shepherd.”

“Be careful. My ovaries are melting,” I said, getting a snort from Lizzie. “And are you a firefighter? I somehow forgot that.”

“Right?” she said. “I don’t think he owns a shirt that doesn’t have FDNY on it.”

“Hush up and lead the way, Lizzie,” he ordered.

Despite the fact that we were on our way to deliver a verbal and hopefully not physical ass-whupping (or because of it...there was something very appealing about the outraged Brooklyn male protecting one of his own), I felt unexpectedly...happy. I snapped a few candids of Lizzie, who was bouncing around like a puppy now, swinging around a lamppost, hopping up on a rock, even doing a cartwheel on the grass.