He doubted she was going to believe him about that though. Best thing he could do is make sure that they weren't alone again. There was too much...history between them.
History and heat. At least on his side.
He might be digging into the past because of Brad's death but that didn't mean that having any sort of relationship with Mariah was a good idea.
Do a job. Go home. That was the plan.
8
"Your brother is an idiot. A total and complete dumbass."
Mariah was sitting in an outdoor cafe having breakfast with Liza the next day. She'd been simmering all last night and this morning about Ryan's stubborn behavior.
"Good morning to you too," Liza joked, pouring cream into her coffee. "I guess you and Ryan have seen each other then."
"My food was accidentally delivered to him last night," Mariah grumbled, perusing the menu. They had great omelets here. "So I invited him in for dinner. I thought we might be able to be friends. Now I'm wondering what I ever saw in him. He lives in a deep state of denial. He thinks he's not stubborn or super competitive. Can you believe that?"
Liza burst into laughter, her cheeks turning pink. "Of course I can, he's a Beck. For the most part, we're deeply in denial about how our upbringing has affected our psyche. Ryan thinks he's so smart but he's just like the rest of us in so many ways. I can actually hear him telling you that he's not competitive in the least and that winning doesn't matter to him. He believes it, too. At least I can admit it. I hate to lose. More than I like to win. It's a family trait and it was bred into us from the day we were born."
"He thinks his parents don't love him," Mariah went on. "Then he said that I couldn't understand how he felt because my parents were different."
"In a way, he has a point. You can sympathize but you can't empathize. But it's crazy that he thinks Mom and Dad don't love him."
"I know, right? Your parents adore him and he can't see it."
"He can't see that he's just like Dad either."
"I think he does see it, but he's in denial about that, too. I think he's convinced himself that if he left the family and made his own way that somehow he'd magically become different."
They had to pause the conversation as the server took their order. A Denver omelet for Mariah with a side of wheat toast and orange juice, and a Belgian waffle for Liza.
"I'm off my diet today," she declared after handing her menu to the waitress. "I'm going to be bad."
Calories didn't dare come near Liza. Like her brother she was tall, slim, and gorgeous.
Mariah was lucky as well, her metabolism lightning fast. Someday it might turn on her but right now she could eat whatever she wanted. Unfortunately, what she wanted most of the time wasn't good for her.
That's how it is with Ryan, too. He's not good for me.
But damn, he looked handsome last night.
Ryan Beck was like a giant hot fudge sundae. Decadent and delicious but she'd probably have a tummy ache afterward and lots of regret.
"So you invited my brother in for dinner and then told him off? I'm guessing he didn't take it well."
Mariah shrugged as if it didn't matter in the least. Because it didn't.
"I told him that he should leave so I have no idea if he was pissed off or butthurt. I told him that he hadn't changed and that wasn't a good thing. I also told him that it was clear that we don't see the past the same way."
"Ryan has changed," Liza replied with another laugh. "But he's still stubborn. And a little introspection wouldn't hurt him either. That's something that the Beck family lacks. As a rule we don't delve too deeply into our motivations."
"Ryan thinks that money is the only Beck motivation."
"He'd be wrong. We like power, too," Liza said with a giggle. "Sounds like you two had quite the blowout last night."
"Actually, it wasn't until the end. We talked about that last night with Brad and what we both remembered. It was okay. Then it just...took a bad turn. I didn't want to argue with him. I was hoping we could be friends. You know, for you."
"For me?"
"I thought it would be easier on you if Ryan and I could get along."
Liza nodded in understanding. "I see. For me."
"Right. For you."
Liza's lips were twitching with laughter. Again.
"Did I say something funny?"
"Yes, and this time it's you being completely unaware. I'm not sure you're doing all of this for me, hon. Maybe you're doing it for you."
"Me? How so?"
Liza glanced around the restaurant and then leaned forward. "Can you honestly say that you never think about Ryan and what might have been?"
"What kind of question is that? I don't dwell in the past. I've moved on. It's been years. We're complete different people now."
"You just said that Ryan hadn't changed."
Sighing, Mariah tried to explain herself. "I meant that he hadn't changed about a few things, not that he hadn't changed at all. I barely even know the person he's become."
"He's basically the same person but more mature. He's a good man."
"I didn't say he wasn't."
"You said he was an idiot."
"A good man can be a little dimwitted."
Liza signaled the waitress for more coffee. "When are you going to admit that you're not over Ryan? There's a part of you that still cares about him."
"No, I don't," Mariah denied immediately. "I mean...of course I care about him as a person. I wouldn't want to see him hurt or sick, but I don't care-care about him."
Liza raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Then why do you care if he's an idiot or not?"
Opening her mouth, the words stuck in Mariah's throat. She didn't have an answer. Not a good one, anyway.
"Because he's your brother. And he thinks he's so smart."
"Okay, I believe you."
Do I believe myself? Seeing Ryan has turned me inside out.
The next morning Ryan met Detective Peter Rosenthal, the officer that had been assigned to the case. To be honest, he wasn't sure what he was walking into. Some police officers welcomed consultants and private investigators and some didn't. Whether Rosenthal would be the cooperating type remained to be seen.
After arriving at the station, Ryan was led into a bullpen-type of office setup, which wasn't unusual. Lots of desks pushed together in a small space so there wasn't much privacy but Ryan wasn't shown to any of those desks. He was led even deeper into the office to a small conference room in a back corner. A man a few years older than himself was sitting at the small table paging through a folder and drinking a cup of coffee. There was a cardboard box on the table next to him.
"Detective Rosenthal?"
The person who had escorted Ryan had disappeared and this was the destination, so...
"That's me. You must be Ryan Beck."
The man stood and shook Ryan's hand. He was a few inches shorter with a stocky build and graying hair. Hopefully that meant experience. They could use that on this case.