She just wished she could be as good a friend in return. Wished he would let her get close enough to him to know what she could do to return the favor.
“Your sister tried to pay me.”
Shit. She hadn’t thought about Lacey’s penchant for detail.
“I’m so sorry, Michael,” she said, quickly. “Please don’t be offended. I just... Since you haven’t seemed to want anyone to know we’re friends, I didn’t tell Lacey how close we are. She wouldn’t insult you for the world by trying to infer that you’re no more than a business associate...”
“It’s all good,” he told her, as though that’s all that was going to be said about it.
“So...did she pay you?”
“Of course not.”
And then it occurred to her—she’d have been really hurt if Michael tried to pay her for a favor, but what if... “It won’t offend me a bit to get a bill, Michael. You know that, right?”
“You want me to send you a bill.” Statement. Not question.
Wait. Was that wrong? Oh, hell, again. She just wasn’t good at the nuances. She spent her days pretending to be something she was not in a world where what seemed right one day was suddenly twisted into wrong the next. “Honestly?”
“Wasn’t that our deal? What you asked me for? Honesty?”
“Yes.” She’d needed to have someone to tell if she drank too much. Someone to be accountable to so she’d feel like crap if she screwed up. “Honestly, it never even occurred to me that I would pay you for helping me. I mean, if you asked me to do something and then tried to pay me for it, I’d be hurt. But I don’t mean to assume, or impose or...”
His chuckle stopped her. “You’re fine, Kace. It never occurred to me that you’d pay me, either, and it would have offended me had you tried. I just wanted you to know that the issue came up, because I have a pretty good feeling your sister is going to mention it to you.”
He’d covered her ass and was still doing it. He knew how important it was to her that she not screw up or look like a loser to her sister. Ever again.
“Okay.” She watched a group of about four older couples stop and look in the window of the tourist shop. “So...for now...”
“For now there’s nothing for you to do. I’ll do my checking, but I want you to know that I’m not sure I’m going to find anything.”
“What do we do then?”
“There’s not a lot we can do. Except that I’ll keep a tight monitor on that account. If a crime had been committed, we could call the police and try to get a warrant for surveillance video from the internet café for the date and time the photo was posted, but we don’t have any evidence of a crime. One Photoshopped picture of a celebrity is not going to get anyone’s attention in LA.”
He was right, of course. “Nor should it,” she said, thinking of the rise in violent crime that was taxing a police force that was thinner than it had once been. “But what if it happens again?”
“In a way, I hope it does. Then we have more of a chance of catching whoever did it.”
“And if it doesn’t, I really don’t have anything to worry about. Lacey and I can just close that account...”
“No.” He didn’t leave room for discussion. “I’ve already told her the same thing. For now, I want you to keep sending each other emails, just as you would normally do. Just do so knowing that someone else could be seeing them.”
“Don’t say anything private,” she translated.
“Right. That way I can monitor the account. I’m not comfortable with the fact that someone went to the trouble to Photoshop a recent picture of you and then used your email account to post it. I’d like to have a shot at finding out who and why.”
Tears sprang to her eyes.
Because she’d screwed up at work. Hadn’t slept well the previous night.
But they weren’t tears of sorrow. They were tears of relief.
“You’re good for me, Michael.”
“You’re good for me, too.”
Now wasn’t the time for platitudes. “No, I really mean it. You...you’re special. Unlike anyone else in my life. I just want you to know...I don’t take you for granted. At all. I appreciate you so much...”
His long pause was no surprise. What came out of the blue, after a full thirty seconds, at least, was a response.
“I meant what I said, too, Kacey. You are good for me.”
“I don’t see how. I don’t have a lot to offer people. I can act. And I know how to dress and put on makeup. Beyond that, I’m not really trained or...aware enough to...”
“Stop. You might not have Lacey’s acute ability to read people and situations, but you’re aware, Kacey. Remind me sometime when I’m not in a hurry, and I’ll tell you how I know that.”
She’d kept him talking when he had a much more pressing matter to tend to.
“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“No reason to be sorry. I changed pants while we were talking and am in my car. I’ve got another mile or so to go...just not enough time to give the conversation its proper due.”
The conversation. Him telling her that she was good for him.
She thought of the scene with Tom that morning. Her aversion to Simon telling her that he was developing feelings for her. The way she’d superimposed Michael into that scene when she’d never seen Michael in Simon—or Tom—before.
For a second, she was afraid.
And then she wasn’t. Michael wasn’t Simon. And he definitely did not have those kinds of feelings for her.
And even if he did...she could think of worse things.
A lot worse.
MIKE BROUGHT WILLIE home to spend the night with him. Ostensibly he made the offer because he was taking his brother to school in the morning to sort out the cheating issue with Willie’s biology teacher, Mr. Weatherby.
He’d been one of Mike’s favorite teachers. Aeons ago.
The underbelly truth was that their father was at his wit’s end with Willie. He’d been in and out of trouble since junior high, refused to follow even the simplest of requests like keeping his music down or honoring a curfew.
And yet he always seemed to stop far short of felony status.
At his core, Willie was a good kid,
