Somebody to Love (Gideon's Cove #3)(66)

“Sounds like The Da Vinci Code,” James said.

“Never heard of it,” Collier said a bit sharply. “I only read literature. Anyway, when the Vatican finds out he’s on the trail…”

The guy went on. And on. And on. This was hell. Worst of all, Parker seemed totally into it. Laughing, asking questions.

Then again, he was from the same world she was. Maybe she liked him.

“But enough about me,” Collier said. “I was thinking about maybe getting a boat and doing a little lobstering, like you, Malone. Cowboys of the sea, right?”

James would bet both lungs that Malone had never thought of himself as a cowboy of the sea. For crying out loud.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Malone said. Maggie elbowed him in the ribs. “But it’s a good life.”

“Exactly!” Collier said. “Hey, you guys want more wine? It’s from a little vineyard I’m part owner in, this sweet place in the Loire Valley. Now, not to brag, but Robert Parker gave this a score of ninety-eight. You can’t get it here in the States, but, well, ownership has some privileges. Hey, Parker, your dad has quite the wine cellar, doesn’t he?”

“Had,” Parker said. “His defrauded investors own it now.”

“Right, right. Sorry to hear about that.”

“Oh, he had it coming,” Althea said. “Always was a cheater.”

James glanced at Parker. Her expression was pleasant and composed.

He hadn’t been horribly surprised to hear her story of Harry and the babysitter. He knew how Harry was with women, after all. But he winced at picturing Parker at age ten, walking in on her father. And though his boss had been a complete and utter shit, he could well imagine Harry’s panic on being discovered. Harry didn’t like people knowing he had feet of clay; he tended to fire them if they found out. But you couldn’t fire your kid. It sure explained the origins of the father-daughter cold war.

“So you two kids are getting married this weekend?” Collier said, turning those freaky blue eyes on Maggie and Malone.

“It’s true,” Maggie said. “You should come! We’d love it.” Malone winced, then coughed to cover.

“Man, I wish I could,” Collier said. “I have a meeting with my portfolio manager, then have plans to pop down to Maryland to look at a sailboat. But hey! Where are you going on your honeymoon? You’d be welcome to use my place in Aspen. I’ll call the caretaker, and it’s yours. Or New York! I have a little apartment there on Central Park.”

“How little?” Althea asked. The woman practically had dollar signs in her eyes. “Parker loves the city. Of course, she grew up there. You two should get together sometime! Parker, wouldn’t that be nice?”

James was suddenly aware his jaw was aching, he was clenching it so hard.

“Well,” Parker said, “I don’t get down there too often.”

“No, your mom’s right,” Collier said. “We should! But, Maggie, if you’d like to use it, feel free, anytime. It’s only three bedrooms, but I like it. Minimalist, a little Japanese flair. The view of the park is very nice.”

“That’s really sweet, Collier, and thank you,” Maggie said. “We’ll probably go away in the winter, when it’s not so busy around here. But we’ll keep your offer in mind.”

An older woman James recognized from Dewey’s came out with a platter of something. “Bananas Foster,” she said, setting the tray down with a clatter. She groped in her pocket for a match, and set fire to the dish, making Collier clap like a little kid.

“We supposed to eat that now?” Lavinia asked. The woman rolled her eyes and began serving the dish once the flames burned out. Rich people. Always looking for more ways to gild the lily.

“So, Jamie, I haven’t really had the chance to talk to you,” Maggie said. “Chantal says you’re a lawyer?”

“Yes,” James said. “I worked for Parker’s father.”

“May he rot in prison,” Althea added, sucking down the last of her martini. The cook put a plate of slimy, burned bananas in front of him. Nasty.

“I thought you were a carpenter,” Collier said.

“No. But I worked on a construction crew in college.” He met Collier’s eerie gaze.

“And are you and Parker dating?” Collier asked.

“Heavens, no!” Althea cried. “No, Parker’s completely unattached.”

Collier looked at Parker. “Is that right?” he asked with a small smile.

James stared at the tablecloth. Good question, Parker. You’ve been ogling me since I got here, you worship the Paragon…are you unattached?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her glance at him, as if feeling his thoughts. He didn’t look up. “Well,” she said, “I’m a single mom. Not much time for dating.”

“Please. Nicholas is four years old,” Althea said. “He’s hardly aware of your comings and goings.”

“He’s five and a half,” James said.

“Thank you, James,” Parker murmured.

“You have to think of yourself first,” Collier said, folding his hands.

“Actually,” she said, “it’s the other way around. Child first, parent second. In most cases, anyway.”