Brian shifted uncomfortably and scratched his chin. “Sorry you have to be here for this, Mr. Blake.”

“No apologies necessary.”

Stomping down the hallway, a young girl with a mess of honey-colored hair and a long T-shirt that barely covered her ass made her way to the living room. She pulled up short when she saw him. “Who the hell are you?”

He stood and gave her his most charming smile. “I’m Trevor. You must be Monica. I’ve heard so much about you.” He held out his hand.

The girl looked at it as if she didn’t know whether to shake it or slap it away, but eventually took it in her own and did the former. “Hey.”

Allie stepped into the room with a young girl hovering behind her. She was a couple years younger than the bitchy one and stared at him like he was a rare species she’d found in the wild.

He turned the charming smile on the young girl with dark hair. She would be lovely when she was a bit older. Not as lovely as Allie, but still very pretty. “And you’re Brynn.”

She nodded and blushed.

“I’m Trevor. Wonderful, now we’re all acquainted.” He sat back down and graced them all with a pleasant smile.

Allie glared at him, then turned to Brynn. “Can you make Mr. Blake some coffee?”

Brynn scampered off to the kitchen.

With a sigh, Allie pointed to the sofa. “Sit down, Mon.”

“You’re not the boss of me, Allison. I’m an adult, just like you.”

Trevor almost laughed. She sounded like a six-year-old in the schoolyard.

“You’re acting like a spoiled ten-year-old,” Allie said.

Brian perched on the sofa, his elbows resting on his knees. “Who is this boy you’ve been dating, Monica?”

The girl shrugged and flopped on the sofa next to her father. The long T-shirt rode up, giving a flash of purple-striped knickers underneath. Trevor noticed. Monica watched him as she played with a strand of hair. “Like what you see?”

Trevor’s smile turned arctic. “Not particularly, no.”

That wiped the shit-eating grin off her face. Allie was spot-on, the girl was a brat.

“Answer Dad, Mon. Who is this guy? We know his name’s Brad. What’s his last name?”

Monica’s brows pulled together and she managed to look affronted that someone dared to question her. “It’s none of your business. And I’m going to kick Brynn’s ass for spying on me. God, I hate this family.”

Brian took a deep breath. “We’re all upset about losing your mom, but you’re screwing up your life, sweetheart.”

Monica pressed her lips together and two angry-red patches dotted her cheeks. “I’m sick of people saying that. I know what I’m doing.” She leapt to her feet. “It’s my life. And it’s not because of Mom. It’s because I’m a woman who can make my own decisions.”

Allie gestured with one hand. “Bullshit. You’re a child who throws a temper tantrum every time you don’t get your own way. And if you skip any more school, you’re not going to graduate. Do you think Mom would be proud of you right now?”

“Fuck you, Allie. You’re not Mom. I was as close to her as you were, but you act like you’re the only one she loved.” She ran out of the room and down the hall. She slammed the door so hard, the whole house rattled, leaving the poorly painted landscape hanging above the sofa at crooked angle.

There was a moment of silence.

“Well,” Trevor said, “she is a delight.”

Allie and Brian swiveled their heads and looked at him.

Allie wagged her finger. “Stay out of this.”

Brian shook his head. “I’m sure Mr. Blake is trying to be helpful.”

Trevor put on a grave expression. “I do apologize. Wouldn’t dream of intruding.”

Allie glowered and uttered “jackass” under her breath.

Brynn walked in with a clear, red plastic tray with three mugs. She set it on the coffee table and handed Trevor a full cup. “Is black okay?” she asked. Her gaze lifted as far as the knot in his tie.

“Lovely, thank you.”

Brynn nervously tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “What’s going to happen now?” He noticed she spoke to Allie, not Brian. Curious.

Allie sank down on the sofa. “It’s up to Dad.”

“I don’t know what the hell to do. God, I wish your mom were here.”

“I’m worried about Monica. She’s doing some really stupid shit, and this Brad guy is trouble. Brynn thinks he’s in his mid-twenties.”

“What do you think, Al?” Brian asked. “Should I ban her from seeing this guy? And what about school? I can’t force her to go.”

For some reason, Trevor found himself becoming angry. “You are the girl’s father. Why is it Allison’s responsibility to make a decision?”

Allie stabbed him with a look, then turned back to Brian. “I’m not sure what to do, Dad.”

Trevor took a sip of his coffee—and almost sputtered. Good God, that was dreadful. He smiled at Brynn. “Excellent.”

She ducked her head, her skin a fiery red.

“Why isn’t the girl in school?” he asked.

Allie smiled at him. He was beginning to hate that phony smile. “First of all, it’s Sunday, so no one’s in school.”

He shot her a look.

“Second, she’s still in high school.”

“But she’s been skipping a lot,” Brynn said.

Allie nodded. “She had a full ride to UNLV but decided not to take it.”

“What are her plans, then?”

They all shrugged their shoulders.

“I see. Well, it’s been lovely, but Allie and I have to go now.” With a smile, he stood and held his hand out to her. She stared at it the way Monica had a few minutes before.

“I’m going to walk Mr. Blake to his car, and I’ll be right back.” She set down her cup and stood.

“No, afraid not,” he said. “We really have to go.”

With narrowed eyes, Allie smiled. “I have to stay.”

Brian stood as well. “No, it’s all right, Al. You go on.”

Trevor turned to Brynn. “Thank you for the coffee, love.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispered.

His hand on her back, Trevor walked Allie to the car and waved off Simmons, opening the door himself. Once he slid in beside her, Allie faced him. She was furious, her blue eyes darker, flashing.

“I quit.”

“You can’t quit, my sweet, you’ve barely even started. Furthermore, you couldn’t possibly pay back all that you owe me.” He took her hand in his and, with a mocking grin, kissed the back of it. When she tried to snatch it from his grasp, he allowed her to pull away. “I think you’re suffering from too much responsibility and low blood sugar. You barely touched your breakfast. What sounds good, Asian fusion or Italian?”

***

Allie didn’t say much on the way to the restaurant. It was pointless to argue with him. But she was frustrated—with her family, with Trevor, with her life. Sitting across the table from him in one of the most expensive Asian restaurants in the city, she gazed out at a fountain along the Strip.

Trevor ordered without consulting her. Big surprise. After several minutes of silence, he leaned toward her. “They’re not helpless, you know. They’re fully capable human beings. Even the young one. She won’t perish without you.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

Allie stared into Trevor’s eyes and found herself unable to look away. The spell was broken when the waiter brought a huge platter of food and set it between them.

“Do you really want to know?” she asked once he’d gone.

Trevor nodded. “Yes, I really do. Now hand me your plate. I’ll play Arnold, shall I?”

She took a steadying breath. She didn’t like talking about it, but she had to make him understand. “My mom got sick five years ago. Breast cancer. I left college and came home to look after the girls. I thought it would only be one semester, maybe two. She had a mastectomy and chemo, and for nine months the prognosis was good.” She picked up her fork and ran the tines over the tablecloth. “But then they found a lump in the other breast.” Allie stopped for a second. She glanced out the window and watched the water spray toward a bright blue sky. She cleared her throat. “Eventually, it metastasized to her bones. She had radiation, hormone therapy. They even tried this experimental medicine.” She licked her lips and looked at him.