He could be me. Even after our very different upbringings, we are still that alike.
No, I caution myself internally. My eyes are brown. His are not.
Like there was some kind of cue, we all get out of the trucks at the same time. Wendy walks around the back of my truck, coming up behind me to take my hand. But that silence is back and we all just… stare at each other for a good ten seconds.
Finally, Adam says, “Wendy, would you like to introduce us?”
Of course he says that.
Six Degrees of Wendy Gale.
She is what connects us, not me.
Wendy lets go of my hand, walks over to Adam, leans up on her tiptoes, and plants a kiss on his cheek. “Long time.”
Adam is only looking at me when he answers. “Too long, Wen.”
Wendy turns back to her little band of… whatever we are, and smiles. “Adam, this is Nick. I’m sure you’ve met though, right?”
“No,” I say. “We actually haven’t.”
“Of course,” Adam says. “That was your brother.”
Wendy is a professional. She’s been around more egocentric dangerous men than she could ever hope to count, so she slides right into the other introductions. “Well, that’s McKay.” She points to him as he walks around our little troop and stands at the bottom of the stairs with his arms crossed like he’s some kind of badass bodyguard. Which he is, I suppose.
Wendy grabs Indie’s hand and pulls her in for a hug. Indie hugs her back, and they don’t cut it short, either. They take their hello seriously. Wendy has her back to me so at first I don’t realize they’re talking, but then I catch Indie’s lips moving as they whisper greetings, or secrets, or, hell, threats for all I know.
But probably not threats, because Wendy is smiling a real smile—it’s sad, so it’s real—when she turns back to us and says, “And that’s Maggie.”
Maggie beams her smile right at me. “Nick. Nick. Nick.” She says it like maybe she’s trying out my name the way any normal kid might. But then again, maybe she’s just committing my face to memory so she can kill me later.
“Where’s Nathan?” I ask. He’s the only one, aside from Wendy, who I know up close and personal.
“He’s across the lake right now. We’re building a house over there.”
We all turn in unison to glance over at the wooden frame of a future lake house. There is no sign of Nathan St. James, but we all pretend he’s over there.
“And you know Sasha.” Adam and Sasha exchange a look. It is neither friendly nor filled with animosity. It’s tentative. Like they are old acquaintances, but they were both really hoping they’d never have to see or speak to each other again.
“Sasha. How very nice to finally see you again. It’s been a very long time.”
“We might as well have never met.” There’s no heat in Sasha’s tone, but her words have an edge. “That’s how far away I am from that little girl who owes you this debt.”
Adam looks her up and down, not actually leering at her—I highly doubt Adam Boucher is interested in Sasha that way—but it’s definitely a once-over. “I would have to agree. You are nothing like that girl I once knew.”
“And that’s Merc.” Wendy shrugs like her part in this is over now.
Adam walks over to Merc and extends his hand. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Merrick.”
I huff and Adam shoots me a sideways glance. “What?”
I put up both hands. “Nothin’.” But silently I find it pretentious that Adam, and only Adam, has the nerve to call Merc by his given name when most of the world doesn’t even know that moniker exists.
But then again, did I really expect Adam Boucher to invite us into his home without having the upper hand in some way?
Maybe not even just some ways, but all the ways?
Merc takes offense to the unauthorized familiarity, but has enough sense not to say anything. I might not have seen this man in almost twenty years, but he’s a lot easier to read than he thinks.
He Merc shakes Adam’s hand, but doesn’t say anything back.
“Well,” Indie says, “that’s that. Come on, Wendy. I wanna show you your room.”
And then that is that. Because both Indie and Maggie grab Wendy by the hand and lead her inside. Wendy doesn’t look back at me and I’m proud of her for that.
“Come on,” McKay says, nodding his head in the direction of Merc and Sasha. “I’ll show you your rooms.”
McKay takes the porch steps three at a time and Adam falls in next to him as they head for the door.
Merc, Sasha, and I all look at each other for a moment, then we shrug and follow.
When we get inside McKay says, “Sasha and Merc, you two are down this way.” He points to a doorway on the other side of the large formal living room. There are enough windows in this place to see that the doorway leads to a breezeway that separates the two wings of the mansion. Merc and Sasha follow him and then disappear.
But I’m distracted by the chatter of girls and the sound of feet thumping on old wooden floors above my head and look at the ceiling.
“Indie made a place for you and Wendy on the third floor,” Adam says. “You must’ve made quite an impression on her when you talked.”
I redirect my attention back to Adam Boucher and I’m taken aback for a moment. It’s fucking freaky how alike we are. “Why do ya say that?”
Adam nods his head to the upstairs. “She made me drive her into New Orleans yesterday to buy an AC unit for the third-floor bedroom. And while we were gone, she made McKay fix it up.”
“Oh.” I look up the long, grand staircase and relax a little. “That was nice of her.”
“Wasn’t really for you, I don’t think. She likes Wendy.” Then he narrows his eyes at me. “We all like Wendy.”
“That we do,” I agree.
“Why are you here, Nick?”
“You wanted Merc, I delivered you Merc.”
“You brought me Merc, Sasha Cherlin, Wendy Gale, and yourself.”
“So? You want me to leave or something?”
“Not at all. I’m more curious than ever.”
He’s Southern. I mean, I always knew this, but his accent seems different now that we’re actually face to face in his very, very, very Southern mansion. A little thicker, maybe. Not that noticeable, still barely there. But it’s disconcerting. Like I don’t know him.
“I just want you to know,” Adam continues, “that I will not tolerate any fuckery of any kind when it comes to Donovan. If you interfere—”
“I’m not here to interfere.”
“Good.” He lets out a breath and nods his head to the stairs. “Then why don’t you join me for a drink by the pool. I’m sure everyone else will find their way to us when it’s appropriate.”
”What about Donovan?”
“What about him?”
“Aren’t we gonna like… look in on the guy? He’s the whole reason we’re here.”
Adam squints his eyes at me again. “He’s the reason Merc is here. Why you are here, well, that’s still up for debate.”