But he had to wonder why the other woman had gone along with a plan to include Patricia on the committee at all. Leslie Morrison, the one person in their crowd who knew the details of Julie’s rape, was usually the one who ran interference for his sister, to avoid exactly the kind of situation they now faced.
Bad enough that Patricia was on the committee, but to have blindsided Julie...
He was going to have a word with Leslie.
Later.
* * *
CHANTEL HAD NEVER been in a home, free to wander in and out of every single room, as magnificent as the Estrada-mansion-turned-library. If she hadn’t been conscious of Colin’s time, and the fact that Julie didn’t seem to be feeling very well after lunch, she could have spent hours exploring the nooks and crannies of the place.
She couldn’t imagine ever living there, however. Seemed like a lonely existence to her, having so much space to separate family members. And the idea of having to dust the place...
Julie didn’t say much as they issued their farewells and made their way to Colin’s town car. She slid into the backseat before Chantel could offer to do so, forcing Chantel to sit up front with Colin.
Not a bad thing. Just a little awkward at the moment, considering that ever since he’d had his hand on her knee, she’d been half-turned-on.
She knew that when cops went under they had to do a lot of things to protect their cover—take drugs, even—but having sex for the sake of the job was not something she’d ever do. Or have the department expect her to do.
She’d be fine. She just needed a few minutes back in her own environment to process what had happened. She wanted out of the heels.
And to scrub her face. She remembered why she eschewed makeup. It made her skin itch.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to run Julie home first,” Colin said as he started the car. “I’m heading to the office, and the resort is in between.”
“That’s fine,” she said, and tried to ignore the tingle she felt at the realization that she was going to be completely alone with him for the first time.
Would he fill the time with small talk? Or try to get personal?
She needed him to get personal. To take the next step in making them an item. A temporary one. A spring fling.
Problem was, she wanted it, too...
“You okay with that?” Colin was looking in the rearview mirror, obviously addressing his sister.
“Of course,” Julie said and nothing else. Colin didn’t ask her if she felt okay or if anything was wrong. It wasn’t Chantel’s business, but...
“Did something at lunch not agree with you?” she asked, turning to look at the other woman. In her experience, guys didn’t always pick up on the obvious. And if Julie, who’d been so friendly earlier, was unwell, someone should notice.
“What?” Julie asked and then said, “Oh, I’m fine. I feel fine.”
Chantel didn’t need to be a cop to detect the lie. But she figured she’d been put in her place—a stranger who needed to mind her own business—and turned back around.
Colin glanced in the mirror again, his expression softening, but still said nothing.
He turned out into the street, drove half a mile and turned again. The silence in the car might not be bothering anyone else, but in Chantel’s world, it was weird—to have something lying there under the surface and not being addressed. But whatever. Must be how the rich and famous dealt with life.
Ignoring the messy parts.
Colin glanced in the rearview mirror again. For the fourth time.
“You want to come into the office with me?” Colin asked five minutes into the drive. “The preliminary child-life specialist contract should be drawn up. If you go over it today, we could have it vetted and ready to present as early as Monday.”
“Next Friday, as we originally agreed, is fine,” Julie said. “I’m not meeting with the Sunshine committee until then.”
Another couple of minutes passed. Chantel thought about chattering, except that she wasn’t a chatterer. There were questions she could ask about the ocean in the distance, the weather she could expect during spring in California, about places to eat and things to see. But when in Rome...and she definitely needed them to think she was in Rome.
“I’m fine, Colin.” The voice in the back of the seat didn’t sound sickly.
He glanced at his sister again.
“I really am.”
Another glance.
“I’m angry more than anything else.”
Okay, this probably wasn’t a conversation she needed to be hearing. Now that she knew Julie wasn’t coming down with food poisoning. Or the flu.
“I’m going to speak with Leslie.” Colin’s voice was firm. His jaw tight.