Chapter Forty-Six

Beaufort, South Carolina

October 27

C lara was familiar with Bishop Security. She had helped them, at least peripherally, twice before. Once, when Tox’s wife, Calliope, had discovered a stolen Degas, and again this summer when Miles roped her into an elaborate con he ran on a corrupt pharmaceutical company CEO. Clara had met most of the team, but even Tox was no more than an acquaintance.

This morning, five women were crammed into a booth for four at a kitschy local diner. The table was already loaded with coffee, baskets of biscuits, and juice glasses, and they hadn’t even ordered. Clara sat between Very Valentine, the chemist, and Twitch, while Emily Bishop and Calliope sat across. Very and Twitch had been best friends since their college days at the University of Virginia, and Emily and Calliope had been close since their reporter days at The Harlem Sentry . With their shared history and obvious love for one another, Clara should have felt excluded. She was surprised to discover it was quite the opposite.

Despite the different circumstances and locations of their upbringings, Clara felt an unfamiliar kinship with these women. They each had struggles and had not only survived but thrived. Emily Bishop had been abducted as a child and then stalked by her kidnapper until she and Nathan killed the lunatic. Calliope and her single mom struggled for years before her mother married the Prime Minister of Portugal. Very Valentine had spent most of her adult life avenging her mother’s murder. Even Twitch, with her silver-spoon upbringing and celebrity parents, faced hardships. Clara hadn’t met Evan yet; she was still on her Chilean honeymoon with her new husband, Cam, but she warmed at how fondly the group spoke of her.

Clara had always been popular and well-liked. She’d had friends and roommates over the years, girls she still kept in touch with and genuinely liked. Today, however, something was different. These women knew her secret; they knew she was a thief, and, what’s more, they didn’t care. Very Valentine, the pink-haired firecracker to her right, seemed downright delighted.

Twitch held the giant menu in her lap and asked, “Clara, are you a sweet or savory breakfast person? Very and I are obsessed with the waffles here. Emily and Calliope always go for eggs.”

Emily peeked over her menu. “The omelets are unreal. You’ll love them, very Parisian—thin with not a touch of color.”

“Done.” Clara looked up at the waitress, who had materialized with pen in hand. “With ham and swiss and a short stack on the side with jam instead of syrup, please.”

Passing her menu across the table, Very said, “Waffles for me.”

“Me too.” Twitch did the same.

Emily looked at Calliope. “Your usual spicy huevos?”

Calliope looked exhausted. Clara had seen the exotic beauty several times over the past two years. Today, she appeared drained and a bit green.

“Just some yogurt and fruit, please. I must’ve eaten too much pizza last night. I’m a little queasy.”

“Don’t tell Tox.” Very grabbed a biscuit from the wicker basket and split it with her fingers. “He’ll have you at the E.R.”

Calliope agreed, “I don’t need my O.B. to tell me I need a ginger ale and a nap.”

Emily turned to the waitress. “May we have a ginger ale, too, please?”

“Back in a flash.” The waitress darted away.

“So,” Calliope leaned forward with a twinkle in her tired eyes. “Clara, I know you don’t know us well, but Miles is family, and that makes you, by extension, family too. We want to help.”

Clara warmed her hands on her mug. Speaking unfiltered about her sideline was a foreign sensation, and Clara discovered it felt wonderful. “Thank you. The thing I’m caught up on is my stupid threat. Lucien Kite knows I intend to steal Somewhere . I’ve lost the element of surprise. I’m thinking there are two ways to regain the advantage—”

When Clara looked up, the women were staring at her in confusion. “What?”

Twitch patted Clara’s hand. “The painting is definitely a problem. It is not, however, the problem Calliope meant.”

“What do you mean?” Clara asked.

Very Valentine stole her attention. “She means, what is going on with you and Miles? I could have sparked kindling from the sexual tension in the room last night.”

Twitch’s laugh had Clara looking left. “Normally, I cringe at her bluntness, but in this case, she’s right.”

Emily scooted closer to Calliope. “Twitch, come over here. If we’re going to grill the poor girl, we can do it without spraining her neck.”

Calliope tapped Emily on the shoulder. “Give me the aisle seat. Just in case.”

When the women had scooted out and back in, the waitress appeared with a packed tray and expertly delivered the proper meal to each of them despite the seating rearrangement. The delay gave Clara some much-needed time to consider her answer. And yet, she didn’t quite know how to respond.

Emily sensed her strife and leaned forward over her omelet. “That was too forward of us. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

That small act of kindness had the cork popping out of the shaken champagne bottle of her emotions, and Clara started talking. And she kept talking.

She told them everything. Clara started with her teenage crush and Miles’s cruel rejection. While they all agreed that, as a twenty-year-old man, he was right to refuse a fourteen-year-old girl, they also echoed Clara’s sentiment that he could have been gentler.

Mostly, the women listened. Clara was twenty-six and had had one sexual partner, yet the saga of Miles seemed to go on and on. She shared about Miles’s frequent visits to their estate in Dordogne and how, despite the fact that Papa clearly had affection for him, Miles always seemed to hold people at arm’s length.

She heard how back and forth she sounded. Clara could have been reading a pros and cons list about this mercurial man. Pro: he was charming and thoughtful. Con: he could ice over like frost on a tree branch. Pro: they could talk about anything. Con: he did bad things for terrible people.

“We started this crazy habit of playing pranks on each other. I’d break into his house, or Miles would show up at my college disguised as a guest professor and deliver an actual lecture before taking me to lunch.”

Clara blushed fiercely at the next “pro” that crossed her mind.

Very Valentine didn’t miss it. “Well, that answers my next question.” When Clara didn’t respond, Very continued, “That good, eh?”

Calliope held up a hand. “Stop. Brother-in-law.”

“What? I’m not asking for erotica deets. I just asked if it was good.”

Emily sipped her coffee. “And we got our answer. You love him.”

There was no use denying it. Clara had lied to herself for too long. “I think I always have.”

Calliope sipped her ginger ale. “For what it’s worth, Tox thinks he loves you, too.”

“But?” Clara asked.

“When they were little, Tox said they were inseparable.”

“Like in that creepy twin way?” Very shivered.

“Hey!” Emily defended. “It’s sweet.”

“Sorry, sorry. Your twins are adorable. My mind just goes straight to The Shining . That book ruined twins for me.”

Twitch speared a blueberry. “You know you just jinxed yourself, Ver.”

Very gulped and redirected. “Calliope, what were you saying?”

“Ever since Tox and Miles have reconnected, things are different.” She held up a hand. “I know they’re older and siblings drift apart, but Tox says it’s more than that. He thinks, and I agree, that Miles has a lot of scars from their childhood, and he has deliberately cut himself off.”

“You think he’s dead inside,” Clara replied.

“Not dead.” Calliope cast a warm glance at Emily and Twitch beside her. “Emotionally frozen, maybe.”

Emily agreed, “Exactly. He just needs to thaw.”

Clara poked at her food. “It would be so much easier if he was just a jerk. But sometimes, he’ll look at me, and I see it, you know? Like he’d kill anyone who hurt me. Like he’ll die if he can’t touch me.”

Very sighed. “I love that feeling.”

“But then, in the blink of an eye, he’s back to being this, this unfeeling asshole. It has me—”

“Questioning your sanity?” Twitch offered.

“Wondering if you made it all up in your head?” Very added.

“Thinking you’re fooling yourself?” Calliope suggested.

“Yes! Maybe I want him to feel something so badly that I’m projecting.”

“You’re not. At least, I don’t think you are.” Calliope squeezed Clara’s hand. “Miles may be fighting it, but he feels something for you. Last summer, Tox and I had dinner with him while you were helping him run that con. Your name came up. Miles said your father asked him to keep an eye on you.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Lord save me from overprotective men.”

Calliope continued, “Miles took that to mean break up the relationship with that man you were seeing.”

“What?” Clara expressed outrage, but the truth was she hadn’t been attracted to the guy. She’d never admit it, but Miles had done her a favor.

Calliope raised both hands in a calming gesture. “The point I’m trying to make is that even if Miles doesn’t realize it, he’s acting like your man.”

“Or keeping anyone else from doing it,” Clara grumbled.

Emily smiled. “My guess is that’s not an entirely unwelcome side effect.”

These women saw everything, Clara conceded. There was no point in lying to them or herself. She only wanted Miles.

“So what do I do?”

“Fortunately, we have some experience in that department.” Emily looked at Very. “Is it too early for mimosas?”

Clara laughed as Very Valentine flagged down the waitress before Emily finished the question.

An hour and a round of cocktails later, the women left the restaurant. Clara took in the warm sunlight and waved goodbye to her new friends. Outside, Finn McIntyre was waiting for Twitch. Their ten-month-old Trevor was in the stroller, throwing anything he could get his little hands on at passersby while their older son, Auggie, dodged projectiles and laughed. Twitch kissed them all, and they headed off down the sidewalk. Nathan and Tox pulled up in Tox’s old Defender. Nathan hopped out of the car and kissed Calliope on the cheek before taking his wife’s hand.

“Where are the kids?” Emily asked.

“The boys are fishing with Uncle Charlie, and Aunt Maggie is watching Charlotte.” Nathan kissed her temple.

Emily looked at Tox’s battered utility vehicle. “Time for a baby-friendly car, you two.”

Calliope tucked into Tox’s side. “We bought one. The big man’s just having a little trouble letting go.”

“I looked into making the Defender baby safe—added roll bar, side impact protection. The problem is the tech—GPS, Bluetooth, satellite. I’d practically have to replace the engine. Then it just gets ridiculous.”

“ Then it gets ridiculous?” Nathan drawled.

Tox relented. “I know. I know. Once little MB junior arrives, I’m taking the old girl to the office and leaving her there as a backup vehicle. The guards can use it to patrol the property off-road.”

Nathan patted his arm. “I’m sure the Defender will love it there. Plenty of open space to roam and lots of other cars around for her to play with.”

Calliope pulled him toward the vehicle in question. “Come on. Baby furniture awaits.”

Clara waved goodbye, forcing down the pang of envy that reared its head. Maybe she was a fool for hoping Miles would one day look at her the way Nathan looked at Emily, or he would be a devoted father like Finn. Miles already had his twin’s overprotective streak, but would it ever be more? Clara was pulled from her thoughts by an arm hooking through hers. Very Valentine pulled her along up the street.

“Where’s Steady?”

“He’s flying. I was going to walk around town, maybe do a little shopping if you want to join me?”

“I’d love to.” Clara gave her pink-haired companion a warm smile. Standing here, slightly tipsy, it felt like friendship at first sight.

Very interrupted her musings. “I also wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” Clara asked.

“Over the summer, that con you ran? It was for me.”

“When Miles ropes me into things, I always pretend to be put out, but secretly, I love pulling his little capers. Now that I know it was helping you, I’m doubly happy I did it.”

Very pointed at an antique store ahead and then to the small movie theater across the street. “Retail therapy or Chris Hemsworth?”

Clara tugged Very’s arm. “There is only ever one right answer to that question.”

“I’ll get the tickets. You get the popcorn.”

They dashed across the street, and Very continued to the ticket window. Clara paused on the broad sidewalk and scanned the road. Nothing was out of the ordinary; two young girls were taking pictures of each other with their phones. People were window shopping and strolling by. In the green space at the end of the block, a woman was gathering osage oranges in a basket. A man in a feed cap was reading beneath a shady magnolia. It was a warm fall day in a quaint southern town.

Everything was fine.

M iles sat on the bench in a feed cap and jeans, pretending to read the spy novel he had purchased as a prop. There was nothing to worry about in their safe haven. He and Clara were surrounded by some of the most highly trained, elite fighting men in the world. Miles couldn’t imagine a more secure place. And it was that same sense of well-being that had him realizing that everything felt wrong.

The Bishop Security guys were friends. Well, as close to friends as Miles allowed himself to get. Then, there was his twin, a man who had been the other half of his being for the first decade of Miles’s life. Now, he was an acquaintance, a guy he liked but would probably never get to know beyond the occasional dinner or holiday visit.

Clara had slipped seamlessly into this group, but they were not “Miles and Clara.” He would never be Miles and anyone. If she wanted to be friends with them, fantastic, but Clara needed to realize they wouldn’t be wandering hand-in-hand over to Tox and Calliope’s for a cookout. He pictured the scene even as he denied it. She wouldn’t be wearing a pale yellow sundress with her hair falling across her bare shoulders, laughing at something his brother said. Clara would never sink onto his lap while their kids played in the treehouse, and Loco, the cat, chased his brother’s rottweiler.

Taken aback by the specificity of the image he had conjured, Miles set the novel on the bench and stood. Fuck this cozy storybook town. Fuck his twin, and fuck Clara. He had spent years carving out exactly this life. Miles was making millions and enjoying every minute. If anyone in his orbit died, Miles could deliver a cursory, what a shame or I’m sorry for your loss , and continue with his day. Everything was exactly how he wanted it.

And yet, as he wandered back to the borrowed pickup, he couldn’t seem to shake the fantasy of Clara in that yellow sundress.