Pursued by the Rogue (The Fairy Tales of New York Book 1) Read Free

generation of Sullivans had added to. Why weren’t some of Faith’s pictures up on those walls? They were good enough. Stick a price tag on them and watch them sell. “Make time.”
    “How come you had descriptions for Zel and Mercy and not for Dawn?” Faith asked abruptly.
    “What?”
    “Zel was the model, Mercy had the curves … You didn’t describe Dawn.”
    “I was getting around to describing Dawn.”
    “You lie.”
    And usually he was good at it. “Dawn’s the smart Aussie with the big gray eyes and a mouth a man could worship.” Faith probably didn’t need to know how the touch of Dawn’s plush, plump lips had been enough to set his body thrumming like a tuning fork. “Heard enough?”
    Faith was looking at him as if she’d never seen him before. “I think the question is do you want to go on ?”
    “No, I’m all done. When do they arrive?”
    “Within the next ten minutes if they’re on time. They’re coming over by ferry and then catching a cab. Which reminds me, don’t you have a performance this evening? Rehearsal? Something to go to?”
    “Anyone would think you wanted me gone.”
    “Smart boy.”
    “Man. Smart man.” He was twenty-seven, one year older than Faith, second youngest in the family and the youngest of the four boys. None of them were children anymore. “No concert until next weekend. And right now I’m waiting for Gil. Em’s got a date, so we’re having a guys’ night with Disney tunes, gummi bears and baby drums.”
    “Your neighbors are going to love you.”
    “They do.” Finn rented a miniscule studio apartment off Broadway, one that had been specifically outfitted for performers. Noise reduction paneling in the walls, triple glazed windows, other musicians for neighbors. “Do you know where that little violin I had as a kid is?”
    “Pop sold it.”
    “He would never !”
    “Maybe it was your second one he sold.”
    “That one he sold.” And all the others that had come after it. Always trading up, always finding the money from somewhere to give Finn the instruments that would take his playing to the next level. These days a Fortune 100 company owned Finn’s Guarneri violin and had gifted him exclusive use of it for ten years, five of which were gone.
    Finn knew how to share. He knew how privileged he was to have access to the instrument at all. And the day he handed it back a slice of his soul would go with it, never to return. That was the real price of the special violins of this world. They collected souls. “Have you seen my first violin lately?”
    “It’s in the cupboard in your old room. Way up high, behind the blankets.”
    “You’re a good sister. Keep an eye out for Gil for me?”
    “Has it occurred to you that I might be too busy with my own friends to keep an eye out for your playdates?”
    It hadn’t, no. And that was his bad. “Or I can wait here until he arrives and then we can go looking for the violin together. I can wait here and help you keep an eye out for your friends. I can be your moral support. No hitting on Mercy or Zel, I promise.”
    “What about Dawn? Will you be making your interest in her known?”
    Now there was a question …
    “If you sabotage my reunion—”
    “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
    He wouldn’t.
    Really.
    *
    It was a good thing Dawn had Mercy and Zel in the cab with her. If she’d been alone she’d have told the driver to turn around and take her home. Through the tunnel, take an hour, take two. She’d have headed back to the Soho apartment she’d paid a fortune for and bailed on this school friends’ reunion that Mercy had insisted would be good for them all.
    At the very least, Dawn should have tried to get the venue changed. Somewhere in Manhattan would have been good. Hell’s Kitchen, Little Italy, anywhere would have been preferable to an old Irish pub in Brooklyn that was choc full of memories she didn’t want to own.
    Memories of a night full of music and laughter and Finbar