call you so that I could help Dani.”
A phone rang in the background, followed by a low voice, so he knew she was still on the line despite her lengthy silence. “Did he say how you were supposed to help Dani?” she finally asked.
“No.”
“Did he tell you who I am?”
“No.”
15
The Only Way Out
“What did he say?”
“Just to call this number, tell you I was his brother, and that I wanted to help Dani. That’s it.” He paused to let it sink in. “So what the hell is this all about?”
She growled. “He said he was going to do this, and I warned him not to.”
“Well, he didn’t listen. I want to know what I have to be worried about here.”
“Nothing. Dani can take care of herself.”
He’d have agreed until he saw Dani dressed to kill tonight. “I won’t know until I hear the story.”
“Look, Mr. Dawson, Kern was a very sweet man, but he didn’t have the right to reveal Dani’s secrets without her permission. I’ve already stuck my nose into one friend’s business, and I realize now that was wrong. So I’m not telling you anything, and I won’t mention to her that you called. This is strictly between you and Dani. You figure out how to bring it up with her. Whatever she decides she wants you to know is her call.”
“You sure do know how to pique a man’s curiosity.” Except that what he felt was more than that.
“I most certainly do.”
For the first time, he heard a smile in her voice and suspected a double entendre. “Fair enough,” he agreed. “I’ll talk to Dani about it.”
“If she wants your help, feel free to call back. And Mr. Dawson, just so you know, I’m looking out for Dani, too. You really don’t have to worry.”
Damn. The woman had him going. What the hell was up with Dani? He’d thought he and Kern were so close, yet his brother had been keeping things from him. Mac was beyond being pissed at a possible affair, way past mere curiosity. His need to know was fast becoming obsession. And it was definitely not good to have any kind of obsessive feelings about your brother’s widow.
GOD, WHAT HAD MAC THOUGHT LAST NIGHT WHEN HE’D SEEN HER party dress? She couldn’t think about that now. Maybe after a cup of coffee, she’d dream up a reasonable excuse to give him the next time she saw him. Dani poured herself a mug of the strong brew, grabbed the paper off the front porch, and carried both out to the back patio. The morning sun was already warm and the air still muggy after the storm two days ago. It was the most changeable early-fall weather she’d seen in the Bay Area in quite a few years. 16
The Only Way Out
She hoped it signaled the end of the drought.
In more ways than one.
She’d stuffed last night’s envelope in her purse to take to the bank. She preferred weeknight dates, starting and ending the evening earlier rather than staying out to all hours. The guy had been nice enough, in San Francisco on a business trip from Atlanta. He’d chosen a luxury hotel on Union Square, dinner at a hot spot on Geary, continental cuisine. It had all been so . . . ordinary, lacking the thrill she got when she had Kern to go home to. In the beginning, Kern had liked to watch her in action, though he never participated. Isabel chose clients who were into that. Kern was always making suggestions on new positions or acts he wanted her to try. There’d been times when he’d gotten so turned on, he needed to relive it all in their own bed when they got home. After he no longer felt well enough to go out with her, he still wanted to know every detail when she arrived home. The naughty recounting made it hot, sexy, and exciting for her all over again. Last night, she’d had no one to go home to. No one with whom to share the experience. She didn’t feel dirty, just tired. And alone. She’d stopped taking dates a couple of months before Kern died. For the most part, he hadn’t been the cancer patient you saw on TV, with tubes and IVs and no hair. Up
A phone rang in the background, followed by a low voice, so he knew she was still on the line despite her lengthy silence. “Did he say how you were supposed to help Dani?” she finally asked.
“No.”
“Did he tell you who I am?”
“No.”
15
The Only Way Out
“What did he say?”
“Just to call this number, tell you I was his brother, and that I wanted to help Dani. That’s it.” He paused to let it sink in. “So what the hell is this all about?”
She growled. “He said he was going to do this, and I warned him not to.”
“Well, he didn’t listen. I want to know what I have to be worried about here.”
“Nothing. Dani can take care of herself.”
He’d have agreed until he saw Dani dressed to kill tonight. “I won’t know until I hear the story.”
“Look, Mr. Dawson, Kern was a very sweet man, but he didn’t have the right to reveal Dani’s secrets without her permission. I’ve already stuck my nose into one friend’s business, and I realize now that was wrong. So I’m not telling you anything, and I won’t mention to her that you called. This is strictly between you and Dani. You figure out how to bring it up with her. Whatever she decides she wants you to know is her call.”
“You sure do know how to pique a man’s curiosity.” Except that what he felt was more than that.
“I most certainly do.”
For the first time, he heard a smile in her voice and suspected a double entendre. “Fair enough,” he agreed. “I’ll talk to Dani about it.”
“If she wants your help, feel free to call back. And Mr. Dawson, just so you know, I’m looking out for Dani, too. You really don’t have to worry.”
Damn. The woman had him going. What the hell was up with Dani? He’d thought he and Kern were so close, yet his brother had been keeping things from him. Mac was beyond being pissed at a possible affair, way past mere curiosity. His need to know was fast becoming obsession. And it was definitely not good to have any kind of obsessive feelings about your brother’s widow.
GOD, WHAT HAD MAC THOUGHT LAST NIGHT WHEN HE’D SEEN HER party dress? She couldn’t think about that now. Maybe after a cup of coffee, she’d dream up a reasonable excuse to give him the next time she saw him. Dani poured herself a mug of the strong brew, grabbed the paper off the front porch, and carried both out to the back patio. The morning sun was already warm and the air still muggy after the storm two days ago. It was the most changeable early-fall weather she’d seen in the Bay Area in quite a few years. 16
The Only Way Out
She hoped it signaled the end of the drought.
In more ways than one.
She’d stuffed last night’s envelope in her purse to take to the bank. She preferred weeknight dates, starting and ending the evening earlier rather than staying out to all hours. The guy had been nice enough, in San Francisco on a business trip from Atlanta. He’d chosen a luxury hotel on Union Square, dinner at a hot spot on Geary, continental cuisine. It had all been so . . . ordinary, lacking the thrill she got when she had Kern to go home to. In the beginning, Kern had liked to watch her in action, though he never participated. Isabel chose clients who were into that. Kern was always making suggestions on new positions or acts he wanted her to try. There’d been times when he’d gotten so turned on, he needed to relive it all in their own bed when they got home. After he no longer felt well enough to go out with her, he still wanted to know every detail when she arrived home. The naughty recounting made it hot, sexy, and exciting for her all over again. Last night, she’d had no one to go home to. No one with whom to share the experience. She didn’t feel dirty, just tired. And alone. She’d stopped taking dates a couple of months before Kern died. For the most part, he hadn’t been the cancer patient you saw on TV, with tubes and IVs and no hair. Up
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