“Yes. Just sold my restaurant in Greenpoint.”
“Oh, is that a nice area?” she asked politely. “Whereabouts is that in the city?”
“Brooklyn.”
Silence followed. Neither of the other two men had said another word, but they were watching him like hawks. He shifted on his feet and wondered where in hell the lawyer and Liz had gone. Anything to break up the tension in the room.
“How long have you lived there?” Peony continued, her eyes flitting to his brothers. She was uncomfortable, too, but trying her best to be a good hostess. The strangeness of his presence intensified.
“Most of my life. My mother and I moved back there when I was three, I think? We lived in Washington Heights for a while and moved to Brooklyn when I was a teen.”
“Yes, I think I remember Heather,” Peony said quietly. “Red hair, snapping green eyes, voice like cracked glass?”
“That would be her,” he said, surprised. “How did you know her?”
“I grew up in Brightside. Your mother was quite a newsmaker back in the day,” Peony said, a hint of humor in her voice as she winked.
Before Jake could ask Peony to explain, Tanner let out a frustrated-sounding growl and peered out the closest window, flicking the curtain back with an irritated gesture. Jake got the distinct impression from the way Tanner was fussing that he didn’t take kindly to waiting, or imposition of any kind.
“Where the hell is Frank?” Tanner added, pacing to the front hallway. Jake watched his newfound brother’s jaw flex, noticing the similarity to himself. He was brought right back to earth about why he was here, and how much of a shock it was for everyone concerned.
“Mrs. West,” Jake started, but Peony waved her hand, and he stopped.
“Call me Peony, please, my dear. You’re family now.”
Another angry sigh from Tanner threw doubt on that, but Jake let it slide and smiled at the woman. He noticed the exhaustion on her face, the slight tremor.
“Truthfully, this is a shock to me.” He moved over and sat on a large ottoman beside her. Peony reached out, patted his leg, and shook her head.
“I know,” she said quietly, then leaned in. “Brett told me about you, about a year ago. I didn’t believe him at first. But—”
She stopped and pursed her lips together, looking down at her hands and taking a breath. When she looked up, Jake blinked. Gone was the humor, replaced by something he couldn’t place. Grief? Maybe regret? It was hard to tell, but it was obviously sad.
“He never once told either of those boys. They found out about you today.”
Brady, who’d been listening in, nodded.
“I gotta say, you’re quite a surprise, New York. Dad never once spoke about you or Heather. So . . . yeah.”
“I didn’t know about you either,” Jake said honestly, looking over at the younger man, raising an eyebrow at Brady’s automatic assignment of a nickname. “I don’t remember my father, and my mother never talked about him other than to say . . . well, let’s not go there right now.”
Brady looked up then and levered himself out of the chair. Jake stood as the clomp of boots on the floor signaled more people were joining them. An older man, whom he assumed was the lawyer, came in, with Liz behind him. Liz was attempting to hide her tension, the work gloves in her hand clenched in a death grip the only giveaway. He watched her eyes flit over her brothers before she made her way to her mother, gently sitting down beside her. She was protective of them. For good reason, right now.
“Ah, Jake. You made it,” Frank said, and stepped quickly to him, pumping his hand as they shook. “Good flight?”
“Yes, thanks,” he replied, and Frank smiled.
“Good, good. I won’t take up much more of your time. Let’s get to it, shall we?”
Everyone but Tanner settled in chairs and on the sofa. Liz was holding her mother’s hand, Brady sank back into his armchair, and Frank sat down on another tall-backed chair, setting his briefcase on the coffee table in front of him.
Tanner leaned on the fireplace, arms folded, eyes glittering with animosity. Jake pulled up another chair from the side of the room for himself and sat, holding his glass of tea in his hands for something to do with them. He sensed the awkward, strange tension again. It was as if he was watching a movie unfold around him, was a mere spectator.
“Okay. Brett, in confidence, contacted me about a year ago to give me his will and set up all his funeral costs.”
Jake glanced at Peony, who had closed her eyes, and his heart lurched for her. She must have gone through hell with all this. All of them, really, but it seemed to have taken a toll on her. He looked back as Frank cleared his throat.
“Brett had cancer. He didn’t want to burden any of you with it, so he asked me not to say anything. We talked about this already, but Jake here, he’s not aware of many details.”
