to jump every time she got within ten feet of him. The one she should be avoiding like day old alcapurrias.
Her best friend’s off-limits, way-out-of-her-league baby brother.
It wasn’t just his relationship to Holly that made Gabe untouchable. It didn’t take a Rhodes Scholar to figure out he was built for commitment. Marriage. Two point five kids. A minimansion in Scarsdale. The whole nine yards.
And Devin...wasn’t.
She flipped the switch on the autoclave and sighed, her breath stirring the loose strands that had already escaped her ponytail.
“I know that look.” Leo leaned against the counter, setting his mug down behind him. Above his shoulder, framed photos of her work—and his—hung against the backdrop of the cheery lemon-yellow wall, constant reminders of how far she’d come since that fateful day when Leo had taken her in off the street. But not far enough for a smart, sophisticated guy like Gabe. “It’s your I-am-an-island look. The one you give when you want to scare everyone off and convince them you can go it alone.”
Sure. Fine. Let’s run with that.
“There’s no shame in relying on your friends every once in a while, hermanita.” He crossed to her and tugged her ponytail. “That’s what we’re here for.”
She softened at the use of his nickname for her. Little sister. “I know. I’m just...”
“Not used to depending on anyone. I get that. But this is Victor we’re talking about. Your brother. Who you haven’t seen in, what, twelve years?”
She winced, remembering their last minutes together. Her shaking with rage, screaming obscenities at the social worker who had dragged Victor away. Him clutching his favorite stuffed animal, a ratty armadillo, his sweet face wet with tears. Both of them scared shitless. “More like fifteen.”
“That’s fifteen years too long.” The bells hanging over the top of the door tinkled and he went to the sink to scrub his hands, preparing for their new arrival. “If you won’t take my money, at least promise you’ll think about calling Gabe.”
Devin’s stomach sank at the thought of facing Gabe again, but that was nothing compared to the way it pitched and rolled when she considered the alternative. Victor, stuck in a house of horrors like the one she’d read about it the paper.
“All right. You win.” As usual. She started toward the front of the shop to greet Leo’s next customer. “I’ll think about it.”
What the hell, she thought as she pasted on a smile. It wasn’t as if she could stop thinking about Gabe anyway.
PINSTRIPED SUITS. Pencil skirts. Pocket squares.
She was surrounded by yuppies.
They should post warning signs. Caution: Smart Phones at Work.
Devin slowed her steps as she neared One Hogan Place, home of the New York County District Attorney’s Office. She glanced down at her outfit. She’d gone as conservatively as she could, given the limits of her wardrobe—a plain, black T-shirt, khaki cargo pants and black Doc Martens. Clean. Neat. Well-pressed. But compared to the Wall Street types, she looked like a refugee from a doomsday cult.
“Move it or lose it, honey.” One of the pinstripe-suited businessmen shoved past her, knocking her oversize bag off her shoulder, no doubt late for some all-important meeting.
“Thanks, asshole.” She managed to pick up her bag, narrowly missing being trampled by a candy-apple-red stiletto.
Now she remembered why she hated the financial district.
Her Greenwich Village neighborhood, and even the Heights, had a cool, edgy vibe. Sure, people there worked hard. But they knew how to play, too. Here, everything was go-go-go 24/7. Even play was work. Gotta swim more laps than the next guy. Beat him at racquetball. Be the best on the golf course. Or whatever these uptight overachievers did in the name of relaxation.
Yet another reminder of why she and Gabe would be a match made in purgatory. Okay, so the guy kissed like a porn star. But aside from that, he needed some serious help in the recreation department. Probably wouldn’t know fun if it jumped out of his briefcase and bit him in the oh-so-delectable ass. Certainly not her kind of fun.
And after a lifetime of struggling, Devin was all about fun.
But not now. She was here for one reason and one reason only.
To find Victor.
She pushed open the ornate brass door. The cool, conditioned air blasted her in the face as she crossed the lobby to the concierge. “District Attorney’s Office?”
“Reception’s on the third floor.” He gestured toward the elevators behind him.
“Thanks.”
Her boots echoed on the marble tile, and she ignored the stares of the preppy elite as she jabbed at the elevator button. She breathed a relieved sigh when the doors slid open and she could escape into the quiet of the thankfully empty car.
She slumped against the wall, watching the indicator on the ancient elevator inch its way from one to three. For the thousandth time, she mentally rehearsed her speech.
Hey, Gabe. Thanks for rescuing me in the park last week. Even though I really didn’t need rescuing. Can I ask you for one more teeny, tiny favor? Help find my brother who got separated from me in foster care when I was thirteen.
Ugh. It didn’t sound any better in her head than it had in the living/bedroom of her tiny studio apartment. But she was running out of options.
Devin groaned. She hated, hated, hated asking for help. Especially when she didn’t have anything to offer in return. Well, nothing a guy like Gabe would want, anyway.
She ran through a few more variations of her speech but wasn’t any closer to knowing what she would say when the doors opened.
“Can I help you?” A pretty, way-too-pert receptionist greeted Devin when she stepped off the elevator.
“I’m here to see Gabe Nelson.”
“Do you have an appointment?” She clicked a few buttons on her desktop computer. “I don’t see anything on his schedule until after lunch.”
“Um, no. Not exactly.” Devin tugged self-consciously on her T-shirt. “I’m a friend of the family.”
A scowl creased the receptionist’s forehead. “Let me see what I can do. Who should I tell him is here?”
“Devin.”
“Just Devin?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow.
Devin hitched her bag up on her shoulder and crossed her arms. “He’ll know who it is.”
The receptionist waved her over to a line of chairs against the wall, and Devin sat while the woman spoke in low tones into
