Entwined with You(66)

By ten o’clock, Mark and I were deep into debating the various approaches to a divorce attorney’s ad campaign. We were trying to find the right mix of sympathy for a difficult time in a person’s life and the most prized qualities of a lawyer—the ability to be cunning and ruthless.


“I’m never going to need one of these,” he said, somewhat out of the blue.


“No,” I replied, once my brain caught up to the fact that he was talking about divorce attorneys. “You never will. I’m dying to congratulate Steven at lunch. I’m really so thrilled for you two.”


Mark’s grin exposed his slightly crooked teeth, which I thought were cute. “I’ve never been happier.”


It was nearing eleven and we’d switched to a guitar manufacturer’s campaign when my desk phone rang. I ran out to my cubicle to grab it and had my usual greeting cut off by a squeal.


“Oh my God, Eva! I just found out we’re both going to be at that Six-Ninths thing tomorrow!”


“Ireland?”


“Who else?” Gideon’s sister was so excited, she sounded younger than her seventeen years. “I love Six-Ninths. Brett Kline is so freakin’ hot. So is Darrin Rumsfeld. He’s the drummer. He’s fine as hell.”


I laughed. “Do you happen to like their music, too?”


“Pfft. That’s a given. Listen”—her voice turned serious—“I think you should try talking to Gideon tomorrow. You know, just kinda walk by and say hi. If you open the door, he’ll totally barge through it, I swear. He misses you like crazy.”


Leaning back in my chair, I played along. “You think so?”


“It’s so obvious.”


“Really? How?”


“I don’t know. Like how his voice changes when he talks about you. I can’t explain it, but I’m telling you, he’s dying to get you back. You’re the one who told him to bring me along tomorrow, didn’t you?”


“Not precisely—”


“Ha! I knew it. He always does what you tell him.” She laughed. “Thanks, by the way.”


“Thank him. I’m just looking forward to seeing you again.”


Ireland was the one person in Gideon’s family for whom he felt untarnished affection, although he tried hard not to show it. I thought maybe he was afraid to be disappointed or afraid he might ruin it somehow. I wasn’t sure what the deal was, but Ireland hero-worshipped her brother and he’d kept his distance, even though he needed love terribly.


“Promise me you’ll try to talk to him,” she pressed. “You still love him, right?”


“More than ever,” I said fervently.


She was quiet for a minute, then said, “He’s changed since he met you.”


“I think so. I’ve changed, too.” I straightened when Mark stepped out of his office. “I have to get back to work, but we’ll catch up tomorrow. And make plans for that girls’ day we talked about.”


“Sweet. Catch you later!”


I hung up, pleased that Gideon had followed through and made plans with Ireland. We were making progress, both together and on our own.


“Baby steps,” I whispered. Then I got back to work.


AT noon, Mark and I headed out to meet Steven at a French bistro. Once we entered the restaurant, it was easy to spot Mark’s partner, even with the size of the place and the number of diners.


Steven Ellison was a big guy—tall, broad shouldered, and heavily muscled. He owned his own construction business and preferred to be working the job sites with his crew. But it was his gloriously red hair that really drew the eye. His sister Shawna had the same hair—and the same fun-loving nature.


“Hey, you!” I greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, able to be more familiar with him than I was with my boss. “Congratulations.”


“Thank you, darlin’. Mark is finally going to make an honest man out of me.”


“It’d take more than marriage to do that,” Mark shot back, pulling out my chair for me.


“When haven’t I been honest with you?” Steven protested.


“Um, let’s see.” Mark got me settled in my seat, then took the one beside me. “How about when you swore marriage wasn’t for you.”


“Ah, I never said it wasn’t for me.” Steven winked at me, his blue eyes full of mischief. “Just that it wasn’t for most people.”


“He was really twisted up over asking you,” I told him. “I felt bad for the guy.”


“Yeah.” Mark flipped through the menu. “She’s my witness to your cruel and unusual punishment.”


“Feel bad for me,” Steven retorted. “I wooed him with wine, roses, and violin players. I spent days practicing my proposal. I still got shot down.”


He rolled his eyes, but I could tell there was a wound there that hadn’t quite healed. When Mark placed his hand over his partner’s and squeezed, I knew I was right.


“So how’d he do it?” I asked, even though Mark had told me.