“What about you?” Mike asked. “Any special lady in your life?”
Yeah. One I wasn’t sure I could trust
anymore. Just like I wasn’t sure I could trust my brothers. I didn’t respond.
“What’s her name?” Mike asked.
“I didn’t say there was one.”
He laughed. “You didn’t. But you would have said ‘no’ if there wasn’t. I’ve been around the block enough times to know that. What’s her name, son?”
I smiled. I was beginning to see why my brothers had talked to this man. “Ruby. Ruby Lee.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“Yeah. It is.”
“You’re a good-looking fellow, even better looking than your brothers, I’d say, though don’t tell them I said that.”
I’d heard that so many times it went in one ear and out the other. Ryan Steel was the handsomest Steel with the best personality. Who’d have thought that Brad Steel and Wendy Madigan could create a more handsome person than Brad and Daphne Steel? Genetics made no sense sometimes.
Mike continued, “So I bet she’s tall, blond, and beautiful.”
I chuckled. “Well, she’s beautiful.”
“I got the other two wrong?”
“She’s not short, but my sister is six feet, so most women don’t seem tall to me. As for the blond? She’s about as far away from blond as you can get. Her hair is nearly black.”
“Still, she’s probably a model, right?”
Again, I chuckled. “She’s a cop. A detective, actually.”
“A working girl, huh? My Melanie never worked. But we were from a different time.”
Actually, I couldn’t imagine Ruby—or Jade or Melanie, for that matter—ever staying home. “True.”
“Glad your brothers are happy.”
I smiled tersely.
“What’s your beef with your brothers, son?” Mike asked.
“No beef.”
“Bullshit. You’ve tensed up every time I’ve mentioned them.”
Damn. Did this man know everything about my life?
“No beef,” I said again. “Except that they’re not my brothers.”
“You’ll never convince me of that. There’s a huge resemblance.”
“Yeah, we all look like our father.”
“Must have been a good-looking man.”
I took a sip of bad coffee. Thankfully he didn’t push the “they’re not my brothers” comment.