“Hey, I missed you,” she says and raises her sweet face for a kiss. I want to linger. Hell, I want to drag her off and f**k her blind, working off the adrenaline that the attack had spiked, but now isn’t the time. Not while her stepfather looks on with avidity. I press against her lips for a quick, hard kiss, so she knows that I missed the hell out of her too.
“Hedder.” I give him a short nod and avoid his hand as I sit down. As unobtrusively as possible, I examine Hedder for any hint that he knew of the attack. His glib face shows no signs of satisfaction or dismay. My inspection is inconclusive.
I draw Tiny as close as the bulky club chairs allow, placing her hand on my thigh and covering it with my own. Her hand is slightly cold. Whether that’s from her drink or Hedder remains to be seen.
“I’m sorry for dropping in on you like this. When Malcolm shared that Sophie had died, I was a wreck. After I’d picked myself up off the ground, I decided that I had to come and see you, Tiny,” Mitch says.
Hedder sounds sincere, but this whole speech would have been better if he’d delivered it near the funeral instead of four weeks later. There’s no way he spent four weeks wallowing in grief, and it pisses me off that he’s trying to connect to Tiny through some idea of shared loss.
A waiter arrives with my steak and an extra glass. I pour myself a hefty serving of the twelve-year Sube and allow the smooth tones of oak and fruit to roll over my tongue. “Kaga’s whisky,” I point out to Tiny. “Want a sip?”
She demurs and turns back to Hedder.
“I wouldn’t have turned you away,” Tiny says softly. “Mom wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“She was such a good woman.” Hedder sighs. “I miss her, and I kick myself for screwing up so badly with her. And worse, you were left all alone without anyone to help when she suffered through both bouts of cancer.” He reaches across the table and takes her free hand. She flinches, almost imperceptibly. No one but me would likely even notice, but my entire body is attuned to hers.
I switch hands, placing my right over hers and using my left arm to draw her close to me. It will look as if I’m embracing her, not just moving her out of touching distance from Hedder. “Tiny isn’t alone anymore. She has me.”
“That’s right.” An inquisitive look sweeps through his eyes and then is replaced by fake fatherly outrage. “Unfortunately, the things that are said about you publicly don’t suggest you’ll be a good partner for Tiny. How long have you known each other?”
Tiny stiffens. “Mitch, I told you earlier that my relationship with Ian is none of your business. I’m sorry, but you haven’t been my stepfather for almost a decade.”
“And I’m sorry for that, Tiny. Sincerely, absolutely heartbroken about it. I’ve wanted to come back and make amends, but I was too ashamed. I’m here now, though, and I want to make up for lost time. That includes sticking around to make sure this guy,” he nods towards me, “doesn’t take advantage of you.”
She gives a snort of disbelief. “I’m sure if there’s any advantage-taking in this relationship, it’s me taking advantage of Ian.”
Keeping her in my embrace, I lean forward slightly. “Tiny and I are equals. We do not measure each other’s worth by the size of our bank accounts.”
Hedder eyes me speculatively and then his eyes drop to Tiny’s ringless left hand. “I see you haven’t asked her to marry you yet. Is she good enough to take to bed but not good enough to marry? I marry the women I love.”
If I wasn’t holding Tiny’s hand, I would have laid him out. Before I can answer, though, Tiny shoots back. “It’s nice that you’re here and that you want to pay your respects to my mom, but I’ll tell you for the last time, Ian is none of your business.”
Her glare could freeze a lesser man than Hedder, although he’s about as low as they come. He gives her a weak smile and holds up both his hands in an innocent gesture. “I’m just trying to look out for you, just as Sophie would want.”
“Sophie adored Ian. She told me before she died that she was so glad he came into my life. She said he reminded her of my dad.” Tiny lifts her chin in a proud gesture. I had never heard this before, and I send her a questioning glance. With a slight nod she affirms that the story is true and not one she made up for Hedder’s sake. The words that Sophie told Tiny give me great pleasure. And suddenly, I want to be anywhere but here. No, scratch that. I want to be home, holding Tiny and making love to her, not sitting here listening to some con artist try to tug on Tiny’s heartstrings. Her heart is tender and in need of special care. She does not need her absentee stepfather crumpling it like an elephant in a china shop.
“The Plaza is a quality hotel,” I observe. “But pricey. You must be well set. Do you want to contribute to the outstanding burial costs?”
I’m bluffing because I paid all of the funeral costs. It’s about the only money I spent on Tiny that she didn’t object to. She’s not good at accepting things from me without argument. Time will change that. Time and a ring of my own on her finger.
As expected, the mention of parting with any kind of money makes Hedder blanch. “Sophie was adamant that she didn’t want any help when she asked me to leave.”
“And you never thought to check in with them? As you pointed out, Tiny was without help for years. She and Sophie shouldered the burden alone. If you have money, and I assume you do since you are staying at a place that costs a cool grand a night, why weren’t you helping them out?” I want to see what lies Hedder will spin in front of Tiny.
Hedder sputters. “I had no idea that they were struggling. They should have reached out to me. Tiny, you should have contacted me.”
“I had no idea where you were.” She shakes her head in disbelief.
“I’ve been down in Palm Beach,” he declares.
“Since I was sixteen?” she asks incredulously.
Giving a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, Hedder replies, “I was going through a stupid midlife crisis. Someone lured me down there, and I stayed for a while. Got caught up in the lifestyle. Made some friends. It’s home now. Not like the city, of course. Nothing can replace the city, but for my old bones, the warm weather is good for me.”
“Have you been in touch with Macolm, then?” she asks.
“Oh, off and on.”