Destiny stood next to Clay, watching the twins unwrap the last of an enormous pile of birthday presents. The final one happened to be Destiny’s own gift to her nieces.
“Thank you, Auntie Dessie!” One of the twins beamed at her.
“Now we can dig to China in our yard too,” her mirror image piped in. Destiny released a sigh. She’d never be able to tell them apart. Maybe a simple “Sweetie” would work for both.
“Yes, thank you so much, Teeni.” Jenna’s sour voice dripped sarcasm as she helped the girls put away the child-sized shovels, pails and gloves, along with a colorful map of China.
Destiny gave her sister a sugar-frosted smile and bit back the wicked cackle of laughter that fought to be released.
“If looks could kill…” Clay’s amused whisper almost undid her. She turned to face his knowing smirk with all the innocence she could muster.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“And I’m certain you do.” He shook his head. “Do you two spar like this all the time?”
“Pretty much.”
“Who usually wins?” A single dimple came out to tease her senses as he favored her with a lopsided grin and cocked one brow high on his forehead.
“Neither of us. That’s why we keep it up. One of these days we’ll have a doozy of a round, and I’ll get to really show that bossy, prissy little squirt who’s boss.”
He chuckled. “Sure you’re not a stepsister? You are profoundly evil, woman.”
At her answering giggle, he sputtered into a guffaw, and soon they were both laughing harder than the situation called for. Destiny covered her face with her hands. Mustn’t let Jenna catch her having fun. She couldn’t look at Clay and pull herself together. One glance and she’d lose it for sure.
“Monsieur. Mademoiselle. I see you both retain your splendid senses of humor.”
No, not now.
Recognizing the snide voice, she peeked out between two fingers. Luc Jaussaud. She hoped Jenna would at least write up a nice obituary after she killed her.
Lowering her hands, she smiled at the Frenchman. The restaurateur looked down his long nose at the two of them, and Destiny choked back a persistent gurgle of laughter. “Mr. Jaussaud! How nice to see you again.”
The sharp jolt of Clay’s elbow in her side almost sent her off on another tangent, but she managed to keep a straight face. Closing her fingers around his arm in what she hoped was a painful grip, she pulled him closer. “Clay, you remember Luc Jaussaud from that amazing dinner last week. Mr. Jaussaud, Clay Gallagher of Gallagher Investments.”
To her amazement, the man’s pomposity disappeared before her eyes. His thin lips stretched into a gratuitous grin and he pumped Clay’s outstretched hand with enthusiasm.
“I am indeed honored to meet you, Monsieur Gallagher.” His sharp eyes flicked from Clay to Destiny, who had the presence of mind to snap her jaw shut and smile. “And you, jolie dame, you are the sister of our hostess, no?”
“Yes, Jenna is my sister. I’m Destiny May.”
He bowed over her hand with an exaggerated flourish. She resisted an overwhelming urge to snatch it away, grateful he hadn’t gone so far as to touch it with his lips. “Ah, yes…two such beautiful women must of course be famille. And you share the yeux verts—green eyes. Lovely!”
Jenna appeared from nowhere, anxious eyes belying her bright smile. Tucking a hand through Luc’s arm, she pretended to pout. “I see you’re all having your own little party without me. You know my sister and Mr. Gallagher, Luc?”
“Indeed I do, mon cherie. It is my pleasure to say they are customers at my little restorante. They bring such…joie et bonheur!”
How on earth did she know that French phrase implied something like joy and happiness? Oh, indeed! To her surprise, Destiny felt Clay’s arm sneak around her waist, drawing her close to his side—where she felt the tiny hitches of silent laughter. She bit down hard on the inside of her lip as he spoke, his voice every bit as smooth as Jaussaud’s.
“The honor is ours, Monsieur Jaussaud, d’une certitude.”
“Merci. I plan also to visit your établissement in the near future.” He turned to Destiny. “And you, mademoiselle…what is your champ de travail?”
Having no idea what the man had asked her, she glanced at Jenna, whose horror-stricken expression quailed any remaining hint of humor. What possible inquiry could have turned her sister’s pretty face into a horrified mask?
Clay removed her uncertainty. “Miss May is owner and operator of a new business in our fair city. You may have heard of Solomon’s Gate?”
Destiny feared Jenna might pass out cold. But Jaussaud’s eyes widened in recognition. “Ah, yes, indeed I have.” He eyed Destiny with new interest. “My good friend is, in fact, tonight meeting one of your…what is it you say? Seekers, yes?”
She nodded mutely, casting an apologetic look at her sister. Jenna, however, seemed to have made a miraculous recovery. She smiled with apparent pride and joined the conversation.
“Yes, Destiny calls her members Seekers. Isn’t that just the sweetest term?” She patted Jaussaud’s arm. “Who is your friend, Luc—the one you mentioned? May we know his name?”
“Oui, mon cherie. It is Preston Crane. He is…how is it you say…un veuf? His beloved wife has departed this life these many years, and he finds it…what is the word? Difficult to meet new friends, you understand.” He sent Destiny a benevolent smile that somehow looked out of place on his sharp features. “He was not eager to come to your, uh—how do you call it? Solomon’s Gate, yes. Monsieur Crane was reluctant to enter your Gate, mademoiselle, but I urged him to go, go, go! He needs to meet the gentille dames, vous comprenez?”
“Well, I’m sure Miss May will provide your friend some splendid prospects to consider.” Clay’s accommodating remark grated on Destiny’s nerves, which had gone taut as a bowstring. This conversation spelled disaster, and his next words sealed her fate. “Which Solomon’s Gate Seeker was your friend meeting tonight, monsieur? Do you know?”
“Oui, oui, indeed I do. I believe the lady’s name is… Clarice? No, no, that is not right.” He shook his head, staring off into nothingness as he pondered. Destiny knew her life was ruined when his expressive face brightened and he turned on that simpering smile. “Claire. Oui. Claire Gallagher.” Abruptly, he broke off and narrowed his flat eyes at Clay. “But Gallagher is your name, is it not? This gentille dame…she is perhaps your famille?”
****
She couldn’t stand the silence in the car any longer. “I didn’t know, Clay. I honestly did not know.”
His only response was a tighter clenching of an already rigid jaw. He stared straight ahead—but then, he was driving. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as she feared.
“Clay, please say something.”
He drew a deep breath and blew it back out. At least it was a reaction.
“When did you get to her?”
Surely she had misunderstood. “I beg your pardon?”
“When did you get to my mother?” His cold voice sliced like a winter wind. “You only met her once, and I was there. What did you do—make your pitch while I put leftovers in the car?”
A wave of hurt washed over her in a huge, battering wave. When she could breathe again, she kept her voice carefully neutral. “I never said a word to Claire about Solomon’s Gate.”
He finally glanced her way, and she wished he hadn’t. Stark disbelief turned his eyes the color of dirty gray ice. Her chest tightened in pained reaction.
“You expect me to believe that? Why else would she be out tonight with one of your…” Pausing, he seemed to seek the appropriate word. “One of your Seekers?” He spat the word like a curse.
A hint of justifiable anger shafted through her, and Destiny was grateful for the bit of steel it injected into her spine. “Well, I’m sure I don’t know. Perhaps she needed better company than her sons provide.”
Clay’s harsh bark of laughter did not amuse. “Rather odd, don’t you think, that this desire for more fulfilling company came about only after you happened into the picture?”
She sighed. “Her application was already on my desk when I met her at dinner. I had no idea it belonged to your mother. Julie took care of Claire’s entire visit to the office. I was out, Clay. I promise you, I never saw her, and I did not ‘pitch’ to her when I met her.” She tossed him an angry glance. “I would’ve hoped you’d know I wouldn’t do that.”
A faint hint of color rose in Clay’s face, and Destiny hoped his embarrassment was the painful kind.
“I thought I did.” His grip on the steering wheel loosened enough to ease the white from his knuckles. “But I have to admit, this makes it difficult. Am I to believe my mother—my mother, Destiny!—just walked into a dating service and signed up to find a boyfriend without some kind of provocation?”
Destiny shook her head, more than a little irritated. “Well, there’s an easy enough way to find out. Why don’t you just ask her?” She jerked her cell phone out of her purse and held it out. “Here, use my phone.”
“No, thanks. I’ll speak to her in private.”
“Fine. You do that.”
She had never been so relieved to see Mama’s house. Clay swung his car to the curb, not even bothering to turn off the engine. He apparently wanted her to just get out and go. Well, she was more than happy to comply.
“Thanks for going with me to the twins’ party, Clay. I appreciated your company.” Good manners demanded she thank him, but Destiny knew her voice communicated no warmth. How could it? The atmosphere inside his car was like an icebox, and she felt the chill all the way to her soul. She pushed the door open and swung her legs to the ground, only to feel his hand grip her arm. She spared him a glance over her shoulder.
“Let’s get one thing straight. When it comes to Solomon’s Gate, my family is off limits. You understand?”
“Perfectly.” Right now, she was more than willing to shuck him along with any other Gallagher she happened across for the rest of her life.
She marched up the sidewalk and let herself into the house without once looking back.
****
“Are you telling me you didn’t know Destiny owns Solomon’s Gate?”
Claire Gallagher’s eyebrows rose to majestic heights. The ice in her eyes took Clay back several years, to a time when that look meant he had taken the wrong tone with her and punishment was sure to follow.
He sighed and raked a hand across his stubbly face. Shaving hadn’t entered his mind this morning. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to yell.”
“Apology accepted. Don’t let it happen again. And yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
He shook his head, dumbfounded. “Then why? Why did you go there?”
She sniffed, still more than a bit peeved. “I am a grown woman and I don’t need to answer to you. The truth is, it’s none of your business, but since you seem intent on prying…Carson suggested it.”
Clay jumped to his feet, setting his coffee mug rocking on the edge of his mother’s dining table. She steadied it, her chin two inches higher than usual.
“Carson? Tell me you’re not serious. Of all the dumb fool things my brother ever pulled, this has got to be at the top of the list!”
His mother picked up his half full mug and dumped its contents into the sink. Apparently he’d had all the coffee he was getting today. “Not stupid at all, son. I’m quite enjoying myself. I had a wonderful time with Preston last week—and again last night. I wish I had known who Destiny was when you brought her here. What an interesting young lady. And what a fascinating profession.”
Clay grunted. “Well, I hope you enjoyed your visit, Mom. She won’t be coming back.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because I’m an idiot.”
“Well, some things can’t be changed. But surely she figured out you weren’t the sharpest knife in the drawer when you barged into her mother’s funeral the way you did.”
Despite his dark mood, Clay couldn’t help a wry chuckle. “Thanks, Mom. I needed that vote of confidence.”
Relenting, his mother smiled and crossed the room to pat his cheek. “Just go tell the girl you’re sorry for whatever ‘dumb fool’ things you said to her, then hope and pray she’ll forgive you.”
He shook his head. “You make it sound so easy.”
She shrugged. “It has nothing to do with being easy. You messed up, son, and it’s the right thing to do.” She crossed to the doorway, but turned to point a pudgy finger his direction. “Beg if you have to.”