a very sharp woman when I was younger. I couldn't get anything past her." Emma frowned. "I can't believe she remembered Jon. He hasn't been around the family in months."
"Apparently, the candies he brought her stuck in her head."
"I brought the candies for her birthday. He just took the credit." Emma's gaze drifted back to her grandmother. "I don't know what she was referring to when she alluded to some bad, bad day. It was such an odd thing to say."
"It sounded like your grandfather knew what it was about. He was quick to cut her off."
Her gaze swung back to him, her eyes questioning. "I thought so, too. It's the second time in the last few weeks that Grandma has mentioned a secret, and the second time Grandpa has changed the subject. But I can't imagine what secret she would be keeping.
"Have you asked your grandfather about it?"
"No. You don't ask my grandfather things like that. To be honest, I've always been a little scared of him. He's the only one in the family who ever made me feel like a stepchild."
Her comment surprised him. Emma seemed so confident, so sure of her place in the world, but in this moment he could see uncertainty in her eyes, and he wondered if she had to be good, had to be right, in order to prove herself to her family because she wasn't a Callaway by blood. It might explain why she was so determined to win, to succeed, to be the best at everything.
"Anyway," she said, turning her focus back to him. "How come you never told me you grew up here, and don't say it's because I didn't ask. I spoke to you about Los Angeles and your reason for transferring, and you never said anything about the fact that you were actually coming home."
"I haven't thought of this city as home in a very long time. I left when I was eighteen. That was fourteen years ago."
"Is your family still here?"
"Some of them."
"Why did you leave and why did you come back?" she asked, as she took a sip of her water.
"I left to go to college, and I came back because it was time."
"That's deliberately vague, Harrison."
"Maybe you should take a hint and drop the subject, Callaway."
She gave a dramatic sigh. "Another person with a secret. I seem to be surrounded by them tonight."
He smiled. "I don't know about that. Your Italian boys seemed up front and outgoing."
"The Moretti twins? I've known them forever. They're not to be taken seriously."
Her dismissive words made him feel oddly better about the interaction he'd witnessed earlier. "Are you sure about that? The first one looked really into you."
"Tony is a huge flirt. He's that way with everyone."
"If you say so."
"I do say so," she said firmly. "What about you? No date tonight?"
"Not tonight."
"You do like to be the man of mystery, don't you?"
"I've heard it adds to my charm."
"Charm? You think you have charm?" she asked doubtfully.
He couldn't help but grin at her disgruntled expression. "Apparently, you don't think so."
"Tonight is the first time I've ever seen you smile. So maybe there's more to you than I thought."
"Maybe there is."
She stared at him, then said. "Well, I don't have time for mystery men. I have my hands full at the moment."
He should be relieved by her answer, but he found himself oddly disappointed.
"I should go and mingle," she added.
"You should," he said, downing his drink. "I have to take off."
"So soon?"
"I have an early morning. Have a good night."
"You, too."
He set his empty glass down on a nearby table and moved quickly through the crowded restaurant. When he stepped outside, he was surprised to see a guy peering into the windows of the bar. He wore jeans and a big sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over his head. The man jerked when he realized Max was looking at him. He turned quickly and walked away.
Uneasiness ran down Max's spine. His car was in the opposite direction, but something made him follow the guy down the street. The man picked up his pace when he reached the corner. Max did the same, but when he jogged
"Apparently, the candies he brought her stuck in her head."
"I brought the candies for her birthday. He just took the credit." Emma's gaze drifted back to her grandmother. "I don't know what she was referring to when she alluded to some bad, bad day. It was such an odd thing to say."
"It sounded like your grandfather knew what it was about. He was quick to cut her off."
Her gaze swung back to him, her eyes questioning. "I thought so, too. It's the second time in the last few weeks that Grandma has mentioned a secret, and the second time Grandpa has changed the subject. But I can't imagine what secret she would be keeping.
"Have you asked your grandfather about it?"
"No. You don't ask my grandfather things like that. To be honest, I've always been a little scared of him. He's the only one in the family who ever made me feel like a stepchild."
Her comment surprised him. Emma seemed so confident, so sure of her place in the world, but in this moment he could see uncertainty in her eyes, and he wondered if she had to be good, had to be right, in order to prove herself to her family because she wasn't a Callaway by blood. It might explain why she was so determined to win, to succeed, to be the best at everything.
"Anyway," she said, turning her focus back to him. "How come you never told me you grew up here, and don't say it's because I didn't ask. I spoke to you about Los Angeles and your reason for transferring, and you never said anything about the fact that you were actually coming home."
"I haven't thought of this city as home in a very long time. I left when I was eighteen. That was fourteen years ago."
"Is your family still here?"
"Some of them."
"Why did you leave and why did you come back?" she asked, as she took a sip of her water.
"I left to go to college, and I came back because it was time."
"That's deliberately vague, Harrison."
"Maybe you should take a hint and drop the subject, Callaway."
She gave a dramatic sigh. "Another person with a secret. I seem to be surrounded by them tonight."
He smiled. "I don't know about that. Your Italian boys seemed up front and outgoing."
"The Moretti twins? I've known them forever. They're not to be taken seriously."
Her dismissive words made him feel oddly better about the interaction he'd witnessed earlier. "Are you sure about that? The first one looked really into you."
"Tony is a huge flirt. He's that way with everyone."
"If you say so."
"I do say so," she said firmly. "What about you? No date tonight?"
"Not tonight."
"You do like to be the man of mystery, don't you?"
"I've heard it adds to my charm."
"Charm? You think you have charm?" she asked doubtfully.
He couldn't help but grin at her disgruntled expression. "Apparently, you don't think so."
"Tonight is the first time I've ever seen you smile. So maybe there's more to you than I thought."
"Maybe there is."
She stared at him, then said. "Well, I don't have time for mystery men. I have my hands full at the moment."
He should be relieved by her answer, but he found himself oddly disappointed.
"I should go and mingle," she added.
"You should," he said, downing his drink. "I have to take off."
"So soon?"
"I have an early morning. Have a good night."
"You, too."
He set his empty glass down on a nearby table and moved quickly through the crowded restaurant. When he stepped outside, he was surprised to see a guy peering into the windows of the bar. He wore jeans and a big sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over his head. The man jerked when he realized Max was looking at him. He turned quickly and walked away.
Uneasiness ran down Max's spine. His car was in the opposite direction, but something made him follow the guy down the street. The man picked up his pace when he reached the corner. Max did the same, but when he jogged
Similar Books
Echoes of Tomorrow
Jenny Lykins
The Death of Rex Nhongo
C.B. George
The Butcher of Smithfield
Susanna Gregory
T.J. and the Cup Run
Theo Walcott
The Ivory Road: A Walk in the Sand
Siobhan Muir
Murder in the Dorm
C.G. Prado
Looking for Alibrandi
Melina Marchetta
Rescue Nights
Nina Hamilton
