‘Scotch straight up, isn’t it?’ he queried.
‘Er, yeah…Thanks,’ she said, feeling incredulous when he merely nodded and went to place the order. At his parents’ anniversary he’d been openly disapproving of her drinking spirits, not because he rarely drank anything except the occasional light beer but because he’d assumed she was drunk. And he’d started verbally tearing strips off her without giving her a chance to explain that the reason she’d been stumbling her way around the dance floor had been that Aidan had been so damn full that he’d barely been able to stand, much less dance as he’d insisted! But by the time Ryan had finished admonishing her Kirrily had been too angry with both men to care about offering a defence.
She sighed. While there had been times in her teens when Ryan had been justified in thinking the worst of her, she wished he’d stop judging her on her prior record. Irritated to realise she’d been staring at him ever since he left the table, she redirected her attention to her surroundings.
The bar, designed in a relaxed, open-lounge style, wasn’t crowded. Laughter rang out from one table occupied by a group of foreign flight attendants. At another what was obviously a family group seemed to be passing the time before an awaited arrival or departure and at the far end of the room two couples chatted in animated whispers.
It struck Kirrily that this was the first time she and Ryan had socialised together as adults without either their parents or Jayne being present. In the years since she’d attained the age of eighteen they’d only interacted at family functions and traditional celebrations such as Easter and Christmas.
The friendship between the Cosgroves and Talbots stretched back to the childhoods of Kirrily and Ryan’s fathers; they’d grown up next door to each other, married local girls and then proceeded to raise their children within a few blocks of each other. Later it had been friendship rather than economic sense which had prompted Kirrily’s father to inject funds into Bob Talbot’s financially strapped business when the banks wouldn’t; thus a personal relationship had expanded into a professional one.
Ryan slid into the seat opposite, interrupting her thoughts.
‘Here you go,’ he said, putting his orange juice on the small, low table separating their chairs and placing her drink in her hand. ‘Scotch straight up; no ice, no water, and, I promise…’ he smiled, sheepishly ‘…no lectures.’
His subtle reference to the incident at his parents’ party caused Kirrily’s stomach to flip. Then again, the cause might have been the sensation of feeling his fingers close over hers.
‘Don’t tell me you can read my mind now?’ she asked, the idea scaring the hell out of her.
‘God, I hope not!’ He looked aghast. ‘What you do gives me enough headaches, let alone knowing what you think about doing!’
‘Your headaches are self-inflicted. No one’s asked you to keep sticking your nose into my life.’
‘Your big brother did.’
The blandness of his response didn’t disguise the emotion in his eyes and Kirrily lowered her lashes as her mind flashed to the memory of Ryan walking into Steven’s room after the funeral and discovering her sobbing her nine-year-old heart out. She remembered how he’d sat down on the floor next to her and quietly started to tell her that he missed Steven too, that he’d loved her brother every bit as much as she did and that maybe it would be better if they were sad together. It was then that he’d said she was to think of him as her brother now, because Steven had asked him to take care of her for him.
‘And Jayne, too?’ she’d asked.
‘Yes, Jayne too,’ he’d said. ‘We’ll both have to take care of Jayne, K.C..’
That was the first time he’d called her K.C.; until then no one but Steven had ever called her that. Now only Ryan did.
Kirrily stared into her drink and sighed. Strange how Jayne’s decision to get on with her future had made everyone else so much more sensitive to the past…It was the first time in years that Ryan had made reference to her brother’s dying request.
Ryan changed his mind and began wishing he was able to tap into K.C.’s thoughts!
The lines marring her brow bothered him, nearly as much as his urge to reach out and stroke them away. In the past he’d taken pains to avoid mentioning Steve in front of K.C., never again wanting to see her hurting as she had been the night of the funeral, when he’d found her crying, curled up in the corner of Steven’s bedroom clutching his football jersey, all alone. It had ripped his heart out, and with hindsight he’d often wondered if Steve hadn’t somehow foreseen that his little sister would be almost overlooked in the emotional turmoil that had enveloped the adult members of both families. It was cruelly ironic that when Jayne had taken the final step in letting go of the past he’d been the one to toss it carelessly in the face of an already distressed K.C.
But had it really been done carelessly?
Ryan’s gut churned at the unbidden question, but before he could examine where it had sprung from K.C.’s voice distracted him.
‘What?’ he said, trying to refocus his mind. ‘Sorry, I missed what you said.’
‘I know.’ She smiled and lifted her glass. ‘I suggested we drink a toast to Jayne. I think it’s kind of appropriate, don’t you?’
‘Very,’ he agreed, raising his glass. ‘To Jayne. May this be the start of a happier life.’
She touched her glass to his. ‘And may I remember everything she told me about the Talbots’ accounts.’ And she added cheekily, ‘I’m certain you’ll drink to that, Ryan.’
‘K.C., I won’t only drink to it,’ he said, ‘I’ll pray for it.’
The way she sipped her drink then let the tip of her tongue creep across her lips as she savoured the Scotch caused Ryan’s stomach to clench. Desperate to douse the fire erupting there, he tossed his juice back in one swallow.
‘You know, Ryan…’
He told himself that her smile wasn’t intended to be sensual. Nor was the way she hooked a long strand of dark hair behind her ear and exposed the soft young skin of her jaw and neck to him.
‘I might surprise you,’ she continued. ‘But knowing you expect me to stuff up will stop me from feeling guilty if I do.’
Ryan merely grunted. She wouldn’t feel guilt because right now he held the monopoly on it!
When they returned from the airport Ryan dropped Kirrily at the house then went to the office to catch up on some work. He wasn’t back by the time she took herself off to bed at the puritanical hour of eight o’clock and he was gone when she arrived in the kitchen, showered and dressed, at seven-ten on Monday morning.
Which was a good thing, Kirrily decided, picking up the kettle, because even on her best days no one had ever accused her of being a morning person, and after the sleepless night she’d endured she wasn’t in the mood for a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and invariably dry-witted Ryan Talbot She did, unfortunately, find evidence of his regrettable existence in a note shoved under a magnet on the refrigerator.
Expect you on the dot of nine and not a minute later! Try not to dress theatrically—i.e. NO BASKETBALL CAPS! If Jayne’s car needs petrol go to the garage at the intersection—I’ve a company account there.
PS—I’ve already fed Major. But don’t forget to activate the house alarm.
Kirrily screwed up the note and hurled it across the room, her actions sending Jayne’s usually sedate Persian rocketing from the kitchen in a blur of blue fur.
‘Why, you arrogant, patronising, smart-alec jerk!’ Unable to satisfy her pre-caffeine rage with a civil vocabulary, she resorted to a stream of expletives and another shout of frustration. He seemed to delight in treating her like an imbecile!