More Than This Read online

  “Fine. I’ll bring something. But they do my share of the dishes.”

  “Good luck getting them to agree. See you soon.”

  He got off the couch and stretched. Splashing water on his face helped wake him fully. He checked the time. He’d have just enough time to stop at Blackstone Bakery before they closed.

  A box of pastries—Maggie’s favorite chocolate éclairs and cream puffs for Mom—should win him enough time to explain why Maggie shouldn’t leave. He called the bakery on his way to the car.

  He parked on the street down the block from his childhood home. O’Leary cars lined the street. It looked like he was the last to arrive. He jogged up the concrete stairs and swung in the door.

  Liam and Colin were sitting on the couch arguing about baseball, but they both shut up when they saw the white bakery box. They shifted to follow, but Ryan shot them a look. “Don’t bother. I’ll break your fingers if you untie the string on this box.”

  He walked through to the kitchen. Bending, he kissed his mom on her cheek. Moira swooped in and snatched the box.

  “Did you get something good?”

  “I went to Blackstone. It’s all good. Where’s Maggie?”

  His mother turned from the stove, wiping her hands on a towel. “She’s not here.”

  “Oooo. That means éclairs. He’s trying to bribe Maggie.” Moira smacked her lips.

  “Why not?” he asked, focused on his mother.

  “She doesn’t want to fight with you. I told her we’d talk.”

  He crossed his arms. “You’re not going to convince me this is a good idea.”

  She imitated his stance. “And you won’t convince her it’s a bad one. Even with éclairs.” She pointed a quick finger at him. “And knowing you, there’s cream puffs as well, with your thinking you’d get me to side with you.”

  Of course his mother would know his every ploy. Not much got passed Eileen O’Leary. “She thinks she can take care of herself, but she can’t.”

  “She’s stronger than you give her credit for. We all are.” She touched his cheek in a gesture she’d done his whole life.

  It softened him, but he knew her ploys as well. “I know you’re strong, Mom. I worry about Maggie.”

  “I know you do, but you need to let her go.”

  Noise erupted from the living room. It wasn’t a whooping sports cheer either. His mother pushed him aside.

  “It must be Michael,” she said halfway through the door.

  Michael. His schedule at the firehouse often conflicted with family dinner. Entering the dining room, Ryan saw the reason for the fuss. Moira and their mom were crying and hugging Brianna, Michael’s girlfriend.

  On Brianna’s left hand, a huge, glistening diamond winked. It certainly explained Michael picking up shifts at the bar. Ryan pushed through the crowd to get to Brianna. “My turn.”

  He scooped her up and swung in a circle, causing Brianna’s long blond hair to swing and making her giggle. As he let her down, he whispered into her hair, “You make him happy. There’s nothing else I could want for him.”

  Still teary-eyed, she reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek. “He makes me happier than I thought possible.”

  Michael tapped him on the shoulder. “Hands off my fiancée. Get your own.”

  Brianna beamed at Michael. “Say that again. I like the sound of it.”

  “Get your own,” he repeated, earning him an elbow from Brianna. “Oh, my fiancée.”

  “Yeah.” She kissed him and turned to Eileen. “What can I help with for dinner?”

  “Dinner is ready. You can help Ryan set the table.”

  Moira looked at Ryan. “It’s about time you got your own.”

  “Own what?”

  “Fiancée.”

  He shook his head and followed Brianna and his mother into the kitchen. Ryan grabbed a stack of plates while Brianna carried a tray of silverware. As they worked their way around the table, Brianna asked, “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “Not really.”

  She stopped, holding a fork above a place setting. “What does that mean, not really? It’s a yes or no.”

  From the couch, Colin interjected, “He’s got one on the hook but can’t manage to reel her in.”

  “Shut up.” He glared at Colin, willing him to follow the command.

  “What’s her name?”

  Ryan said nothing. Colin hoisted himself off the couch and leaned against the antique china cabinet across from the table. “Quinn. Her name is Quinn. She’s a teacher and she sings, I think. I never did get a clear answer. She’s pretty. About your height, Brianna. Dark hair cut to her chin.”

  Brianna laid the last fork in place. “You seem to know an awful lot.”

  “He needs to keep his nose out of other people’s business.” Ryan shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

  “Well, I’m glad he doesn’t. Otherwise we might never know you had a life outside the bar.” Brianna circled the table again, placing a paper napkin opposite the silverware.

  Moira breezed in with the first two bowls, asparagus and corn.

  “So where’d you meet her?” Brianna continued.

  “Meet who?” Moira spun on her heels to pin Colin and Ryan to their places.

  “No one,” Ryan answered.

  “Did you and Kathy hit it off? I think she likes you.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you. She’s a nice girl, but there was no chemistry.”

  “How could there be no chemistry? She’s gorgeous and smart and friendly.”

  Colin jumped in. “Hey, where’s my introduction?”

  Moira eyed him. “Kathy’s looking to settle down and you’re . . . Colin.”

  Colin answered with a frown.

  Moira turned back to Ryan. “So you have a girlfriend?”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend. Quinn is a friend who happens to be female.” He still had a hard time swallowing it, but even if she was more, he wouldn’t want to expose her to this.

  “Moira, potatoes gettin’ cold,” Eileen called from the kitchen.

  “I’m coming,” Moira yelled back. She turned to Ryan. “Don’t say anything else until I get back.”

  Ryan growled and followed Moira into the kitchen. He returned to find Brianna still waiting and Colin wearing a wicked smirk.

  Moira came bustling back with the mashed potatoes and Eileen close on her heels with a huge plate of ham.

  The smell of hot food called Liam and Michael from the couch. Michael moved straight to Brianna to take the seat beside her. Without Maggie they didn’t need to squeeze one of the kitchen chairs at the corner of the table.

  Ryan moved to the head of the table, opposite his mother. Colin now occupied his father’s chair, where Ryan had been sitting for the last three years.

  Colin didn’t even spare a look. Ryan bit his tongue to keep the peace. Colin was baiting him, and Ryan wondered how much further he’d push it.

  Ryan sat between Liam and Eileen, across from Michael.

  “Colin, say grace.”

  Ryan withheld a snarl and held his mother’s hand. None of them was a churchgoer anymore. A childhood of Sundays spent in church was enough. Their mom overlooked their collective lapse of faith as long as they said grace before Sunday dinner.

  “Lord, we thank you for fine food, family, and love. Amen.” As soon as the sign of the cross was made, arms stretched, forks clinked, and noise ensued.

  Moira’s voice rose above the clatter. “Tell us about Quinn.”

  “Drop it, Moira. She’s a friend.”

  “I don’t see how it’s fair for you to grill us about every minute detail of every date we have, but you give us nothing.” The fork she waved while talking finally made its way into her mouth.

  “There’s nothing to give. She’s a teacher at Jones. She started coming in with the other teachers, and we became friends.” He scooped a pile of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

  Moira leaned over to see him around Liam. “Did you
sleep with her?”

  Ryan slammed down his fork. “None of your damn business.”

  “Ryan, your language,” Eileen admonished.

  He stood, mumbled, “Sorry, Mom,” and went into the kitchen. He paced the room twice before pulling a beer from the fridge and popping the top. The cool bottle had barely reached his lips when Michael came in.

  “Better not let Mom catch you.”

  “It’ll be gone quick.” He took a long drink.

  “Let me have a swig.”

  Ryan passed the bottle.

  Michael took a drink and handed it back. “Colin’s being an ass. He’s pushing your buttons because you let him. You make it easy. And Moira can’t help being nosy. It comes with being a reporter.”

  “I know. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” Mostly Quinn. Flirting with Kathy hadn’t taken his mind off anything. He was a mess.

  “Come back to the table before Mom comes looking for us.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.” He drained the bottle and shoved it deep in the trash can. He reentered the dining room determined to keep his cool.

  His mother moved on easily. “How’s Griffin? I haven’t seen that boy in ages.”

  “He’s been out of town on and off for weeks. Some production glitch required his attention. He’ll be back sometime this week. I’ll bring him by soon.”

  “Good. He staying out of trouble?”

  “As far as I know.”

  The table settled into the comfortable silence of family sharing a meal. Colin’s voice broke the silence. He stared at Ryan. “You need to tell them.”

  “About what?”

  “About the rapes.” Jaws and forks dropped. “It’ll affect business, and you have women sitting at this table—”

  “Shut up.”

  Eileen touched Ryan’s arm. “What is it?”

  His muscles bunched. He had intended to tell them, but not like this. “Charlie Boyle came to see me the other day. There have been a series of rapes in the area. A group of guys try to pick up a woman at a neighborhood bar on a weeknight. Slip her a roofie.”

  Her hand trembled on his arm. He covered her slender fingers with his palm. “No one from O’Leary’s. The cops don’t have much. I’m going to hire extra guys to work the room. A lot of women stop by for a drink after work. They’re all targets.”

  “I’ll spread word at the firehouse. The guys are always looking for a way to make more cash,” Michael said.

  “Thanks. It would save me an extra step.” He swirled a piece of ham through a puddle of brown sugar syrup. His appetite faded, but he continued to put on a show for his mother.

  “A new critic came into the restaurant last night.”

  Ryan faced Liam, grateful for the change in topic. “Yeah? How’d it go?” he asked and hoped he sounded cheerful.

  “He said it was one of the best meals he’s ever had in Chicago. And the chef, me, is a rising star.”

  “Congrats, man.” Ryan clapped him on the shoulder.

  Questions flooded after that. Moira wanted to know about the winning dish. Eileen wanted to know where to get a copy of the review.

  Ryan stood and excused himself. He scraped the remaining food into the trash and put the plate into the sink. The sun still blazed through the window above the sink.

  Eileen came in moments later. “You’re staying for dessert, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’ve got to get to the bar. I need to close tonight.”

  “You work too hard. Like your father that way. You have help. Colin’s home.”

  “Enjoy the cream puffs.” He bent and kissed her cheek.

  On his way to the car, he tried to push the weight of his life off his chest. Time to put on a friendly face to meet the people at Twilight. As he traveled to the bar, his thoughts revolved around a quiet brunch with Quinn.

  CHAPTER 20

  Quinn slithered into the black dress she swore she’d never wear again. Indy guaranteed the dress had gotten a reaction when they’d gone to Twilight, and she was rarely wrong.

  Tonight Quinn would complete the last item on her list before her vacation. Indulge at an expensive restaurant. Her vacation to New Orleans was planned. She’d leave in two weeks. The summer romance obviously wasn’t going to happen. She hated to fail. The summer hadn’t been a total waste, though. She’d grown and learned a lot about herself in the process.

  She was ready to have a baby.

  Indy arrived at seven-fifteen, only fifteen minutes late. Quinn hadn’t wanted to go to a restaurant alone. She didn’t ask Ryan because he probably wouldn’t let her pay the bill.

  “You look fabulous.” Quinn stared at the deep navy-colored dress shimmering over Indy’s body.

  Indy twirled around. “You think?”

  “It’s perfect. In fact, it makes me want to wear a trash bag. I never could compete with your style.”

  Indy ran her eyes up and down. “Trust me. Your dress competes without a problem.”

  They took a cab to Gibson’s, a premier steakhouse. Griffin had given her a few other restaurants to choose from: RL, Ralph Lauren’s Chicago restaurant, The Shanghai Terrace at the Peninsula Hotel, and Porter’s, where Ryan’s brother Liam worked.

  RL was a restaurant for high-profile socialites, and Quinn didn’t think she could pull that off regardless of the amount of cash in her wallet. The Shanghai Terrace offered unique Chinese food, and although the terrace looked like a beautiful place to dine, she only enjoyed Chinese food out of white cartons. Porter’s, while it would be similar to Gibson’s, she avoided because she needed something that wasn’t attached to the O’Leary name.

  Gibson’s was a place every Chicagoan knew. Celebrities often had their photos taken over a steak at Gibson’s. Even with its fame, it wasn’t pretentious. That’s what made Quinn choose it.

  They sat at the bar and sipped expensive margaritas while waiting for their table. Quinn turned on her stool and surveyed the part of the restaurant she could see. The customers were equal parts couples on a date and businessmen making deals. In both cases, Quinn felt surrounded by suits.

  “These margaritas are delicious,” Indy commented. “Good thing we’re not driving.”

  “Do you feel out of place here?”

  Indy’s eyebrows drew together. “No, why would I? Richard took me to dinner here once.”

  “Figures.”

  “What?”

  Quinn lifted her shoulders in an attempt to loosen some tension. “Nothing. It’s . . . we grew up in the same house, in the same small town. I don’t get why a roomful of men doesn’t faze you.”

  “They’re just men under the suits. And not all that different from one another.”

  “Back home most guys didn’t even own a suit. These guys exude power.”

  Indy chuckled with a glint in her eye. “They only have power in the courtroom or the boardroom. In the bedroom, you have the power.”

  Quinn laughed. “Not likely.”

  “You need to walk through the room like you own it, and you will. You’ve never had faith in yourself. That’s what I don’t get. If you allowed any of these guys near you, they’d be intimidated.”

  Quinn wondered exactly how much alcohol was in Indy’s drink. She intimidated no one.

  The hostess arrived to show them to their table. As they walked through the restaurant, she felt eyes turn to them. Some a quick flick at movement in their field of vision, others a lingering leer. Keeping her head up, Quinn pushed a little more sway in her hips. A smile crossed her lips as she thought of having Indy’s power.

  Their table was along a side wall, not quite tucked into a corner. A couple nestled in the corner booth, their closeness spoke of intimacy. Indy took the seat with her back to the wall. “This way, I have a good view of any guy coming to hit on us.”

  “Don’t you think I should be able to check a guy out before he gets here?”

  “No, you’d shoot down the whole idea.”

  Quinn rolled her eyes. “Chances a
re, no man’s going to hit on me here. That’s why I chose this restaurant. I’m here to enjoy a meal. And maybe catch a glimpse of Johnny Depp.”

  “We’ll see. Men have already noticed us. The single ones did a quick assessment as soon as we popped on their radar.”

  “Let’s just eat, okay? Order anything you want.”

  “Anything? You might have to hock your car to pay your Visa bill.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  Their waiter appeared and rattled through the specials and recommended a bottle of wine. Quinn opted to trust his judgment and ordered it.

  A big, fat, juicy steak and a huge baked potato slathered in butter was all she wanted. She stared at the menu to find that even with such a simple request, she had decisions to make.

  “The prime rib will melt in your mouth,” Indy told her.

  “I’m not a big fan of prime rib. I like a regular old steak.”

  “You’ve never had it here. I’ll order it and you can try some.” She closed her menu and set it on the corner of the table.

  Quinn decided to let the waiter suggest something for her when he returned.

  Indy’s face suddenly darkened. “Uh-oh. Vulture at ten o’clock.”

  “Where?” Quinn began to turn, but Indy caught her wrist.

  “Don’t. Too obvious. Rock, paper, scissors?”

  “God, no. I’ll handle this one.” Act like you own it and you do. She felt the temperature of her cheeks rise as the tall man towered over their table, but she held her resolve.

  “Ladies.”

  I know that voice. Her head shot up to see Griffin’s smiling face. She kicked Indy’s shin under the table.

  Griffin bent and kissed Quinn’s cheek.

  “Hi. How are you?” she asked.

  “Good,” he answered. “Busy.”

  “Must be really busy. I haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “I’ve been out of town on business.” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “It’s continuing over there.”

  “Thanks for the recommendation, by the way. I’ve never eaten here before.”

  “If you had called me, I could’ve gotten you a better table.” He stood with his hands slipped neatly into the pockets of his perfectly fitted suit. His shoulders sloped, totally relaxed.