So This Is Love

chapter Six

Family dinner was excruciating, Max thought. They were sitting in the dining room of his childhood home. The house was the one thing his mother had gotten in the divorce, and it had taken all she had to hang on to it all these years. But after his dad moved out, they'd rarely eaten in the dining room. In fact, his mom had refused to set this table for at least a decade, saying it reminded her too much of his father, Steve.

Why she'd decided to hold this family reunion in the formal dining room, he did not understand. There weren't any good memories in this room, and he didn't think tonight's meal was going to change that.

His mom had cooked up a feast fit for a king, but he didn't think any of them were really enjoying it. The few words of casual conversation they'd exchanged hadn't made it past the salad. Since then the silence had grown tense and uncomfortable.

His appetite gone, Max set down his fork and looked across the table at his brother. His mom had obviously picked up new clothes for Spencer as he now wore a crisp button-down shirt and a pair of gray slacks. He looked more like the old Spencer, the one who'd gone to college, and then gotten a job as a commodities trader, the one who'd been on the fast track to wealth and importance. But that life was gone. Spencer had destroyed it, and he was going to have start over. It wouldn't be easy now that he was an ex-convict.

Spencer met his gaze, but whatever he was thinking was impossible to read. Prison had taught Spencer the value of hiding his thoughts and emotions.

After a moment, Spencer looked down at his plate and forked the last piece of roast beef. Dinner might be awkward, but Spencer had obviously enjoyed having a home-cooked meal for a change.

Max glanced across the table at his mother, who seemed intent on sending him some sort of silent message. She wanted him to break the tension; he just wasn't sure how to do that. His mother and Spencer were far closer to each other than he was to either of them.

But he had to try something. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and slid it across the table. "I looked through some online employment sites earlier, and I wrote down a couple of possibilities."

Spencer didn't bother to pick up the paper. "I can find my own job," he said flatly.

"I'd like to help."

"So you can stop feeling guilty?" Spencer's gaze filled with anger. Apparently, his brother was done hiding his feelings.

He knew Spencer was baiting him, itching for some kind of fight, although he didn't know why. Spencer should be happy to be free, but instead he was extremely pissed off. Obviously, he found some comfort in anger, but Max was tired of being the focus of his brother's rage.

Actually, he was just tired, another reason he should bite his tongue.

"Nothing to say?" Spencer persisted.

"You obviously have a lot to say, so say it."

"Let's not do this now," his mother interjected, giving them both a worried look. "Can't we enjoy the fact that we're finally together again?"

"I don't think Spencer can," he said, staring at his brother.

"No, I can't." Spencer looked him directly in the eye. "You let me go to prison. You let me rot in that hell-hole for seven years."

"I tried to help you. There was nothing I could do."

"You were thinking like a cop and not like a brother."

That was so untrue, it was almost laughable. He'd almost lost his job for interfering with the investigation. But Spencer had never understood the difficult position he had been placed in. No amount of explanation would ever make Spencer see things differently, so Max was done trying.

Spencer threw down his napkin and stood up. "I've had enough."

As Spencer strode out of the dining room, his mother gave him a disappointed look. "I was hoping you two could make peace, Max."

"I'm not the one you should be talking to."

"I know Spencer is angry and bitter, but who can blame him? He tried to save the life of the woman he loved, and he went to prison for it. You have to find a way to reach your brother, Max. It can't be on him. He has enough to deal with. He needs your support whether or not he asks for it or wants it."

He hadn't heard his mom so passionate about anything or anyone in a very long time.

"Please, Max," she said, desperation in her eyes. "He's so angry. I'm worried what he'll do. I'm afraid I could lose him all over again."

"I'll talk to him," he said, getting to his feet. It probably wouldn't help, but he'd give it a shot.

He found Spencer out on the back deck. He was sitting in a deck chair, staring out at the night.

Max took the chair opposite him and for a few minutes there was nothing but the quiet of the night, and in the distance, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked after a moment. "Fight some more? We might as well clear the air."

"I don't feel like fighting anymore."

He was surprised but also relieved. "All right."

A few minutes passed, and then Spencer added, "The flowers smell so strong. It's been a long time since I smelled anything so—pretty. I'd forgotten that the world could smell this way, that the stars could be so bright, that the air could feel so crisp against my face. I can taste the salt in the air, and it's both familiar and very odd."

There was less anger in his tone now, more of a dreamy quality, as if he was experiencing some surreal moment.

"I feel like a stranger in a strange land," Spencer continued. "I don't know how I'll fit in here."

It was the most his brother had said to him in years and revealed some of the vulnerability that Spencer had been hiding behind his anger.

"You have to give yourself some time, Spencer."

"Time has passed so slowly the last seven years. I don't want to waste any more of it." He glanced at Max. "I can't imagine anyone will want to hire me with my record."

"It won't be easy," Max agreed. "But you'll find something. You're smart and well-educated."

"And a murderer. Who's going to trust me? People will probably cross the street when they see me coming."

"You can't think of yourself that way. The worst is behind you, Spence. You're a free man, and you're starting a new chapter in your life."

"A new chapter?" he asked, doubt in his eyes. "I'm a thirty-six-year-old man living in his mother's house. I have no money, no car, and no job prospects."

"That's all temporary." He hated to see Spencer getting bogged down in the negative, but he doubted there was anything he could say to change that. Spencer would have to find his own way forward.

"Where do you live?" Spencer asked.

"An apartment a couple of miles from here. It's a one bedroom," he added.

"Don't worry. I wasn't going to ask if I could move in."

He was happy to hear that. "Mom isn't around that much. She works nine to five at the insurance company. You'll have time to yourself during the day."

"Yeah." Silence fell between them for a few moments, then Spencer said, "Do you know what happened to her?"

His body stiffened at the question he'd hoped he'd never hear. "Are you talking about Stephanie?"

"Who else would I be asking about?"

"Does it matter what happened to her? She let you down at the trial, Spencer. Her testimony was half-hearted and vague. She couldn't remember things she'd told you. She had text messages she couldn't explain. She's the reason the jury didn't believe you."

"I didn't ask for a rehash; I asked if you knew what happened to her," Spencer said, an edge to his voice now.

"You have to forget about her. You can never see her again. This is your second chance, and you cannot let her mess it up for you."

"Is she married?"

He let out a sigh, knowing that he was only postponing the inevitable. If he didn't give Spencer answers, his brother would go looking for them, and that would be even worse. "Yes, she's married. And she has a kid."

"How old?"

"Around two, I think."

"You kept tabs on her."

He had kept an eye on Stephanie because he'd always believed she'd been hiding something, and during the course of appeals, he'd hoped she'd reveal the truth. But she never had.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Spencer asked.

"Boy."

"She had a son," Spencer said, drawing a shaky breath. "We talked about having a child together."

"How can you have an ounce of feeling for her?" he asked harshly.

Spencer looked at him with agony in his eyes. "I loved her more than I've ever loved anyone in my life."

He knew he was being harsh and not at all understanding, but he couldn't support this part of Spencer's re-entry into the world. "You paid for your love. She's moved on, and you need to do the same."

Spencer stood up. "Don't worry about me, Max. I know exactly what I need to do."

* * *

After the Callaway family dinner, Emma went upstairs to her bedroom, grabbed her laptop computer and sat down on her bed. She'd been thinking about Max all evening, wondering how his reunion was going with his mother and brother. While he'd told her the basics, she wanted to know the whole story.

She opened her search engine and typed in Spencer Harrison, then waited for the results. It didn't take long to find a series of news articles about his trial. The first one was from the San Francisco Chronicle and gave the basics of the case.

Spencer Harrison, age twenty-nine, a rising commodities trader at Harrington and Stowe, was arrested after a fight outside his girlfriend's apartment building that resulted in the death of Kurt Halstead, age twenty-seven. Harrison claimed that Halstead was stalking his girlfriend, Stephanie Porter. But Halstead's attorneys stated that Harrison had a jealous temper and had mistaken a friendship between the two for something more.

Emma pulled up another article, this one discussing the deceased Kurt Halstead, who was also the son of a former San Francisco Supervisor. That couldn't have helped Spencer's case. She could only imagine the kind of influence the Halstead family might have had on the investigation.

Further searching led Emma to a video shot outside the courthouse the day of Spencer's conviction. A tearful Susan Harrison, Max's mother, spoke about her wonderful son and the miscarriage of justice. Susan wore her brown hair pulled back in a knot, and had on a navy blue suit. She was very thin and quite distraught. Her voice shook with every word, and tears streamed down her face as she looked into the camera and pleaded for someone to help her right a terrible wrong.

Emma's stomach clenched at the raw pain in her voice. It was obvious she believed completely in Spencer's innocence.

What had Max thought?

There was no sign of Max in the video. And he'd told her enough to know that there had been some break in his family. Had that break come with Spencer's arrest? Had Max doubted his brother's story?

He would have been a young cop at the time of Spencer's arrest, and Max had told her that he'd started at the LAPD, so he'd been a long way from the scene of the crime. But he must have gotten involved. It wasn't his personality to stay on the sidelines. He would have contacted the detectives in San Francisco. He would have used whatever connections he had to make sure that his brother got justice.

She really wanted to talk to Max, to ask him what had happened and how he'd felt about it all, but she doubted he'd be interested in answering her questions.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard and then she gave into an impulse and typed Max's name into the search box. The Internet might reveal some secrets about the man of mystery. Maybe if she knew more about him, she'd find new energy to dislike him, because at some point in the last two days she'd found herself softening towards him. She'd seen another side to the cocky cop, a side she liked way too much.

Unfortunately, when his picture appeared on the screen, she liked him even more. Even in a formal police department headshot, he looked handsome, with his brown hair, penetrating green eyes, and very sexy mouth. She felt a tingle run down her spine. How could one man's kiss be so good?

Shaking that question out of her head, she skimmed through several news articles. Max had made a name for himself in the Los Angeles Police Department. He'd put away a lot of criminals and he'd also saved the life of his partner during a drug bust. As she read about his exploits, she realized how courageous and brave he was. She'd seen him mostly in a suit, working an investigation, not throwing himself in front of a bullet, but it was clear he was comfortable doing that, too.

So her Internet research experiment was a dismal failure. Now Max was not only sexy but also a real live hero.

"Emma?"

The voice made her jump. Startled she looked to the door, meeting Sara's questioning gaze.

"Did I scare you?" Sara asked.

"I didn't hear you come down the hall."

Sara moved over to the bed. "You were pretty engrossed in what you were doing." She glanced at the screen. "Ah, so now I know why you were lost in thought."

Emma quickly closed the computer. "I was doing some research."

"On the cop who has you hot and bothered," Sara said with a knowing glint in her eyes.

"I was actually doing some research on Max's brother," Emma said. "Max told me earlier that his brother got out of prison today, and that was all he would say."

"Which, of course, made you curious."

"How could I not be? I like to know who I'm working with."

"So what did you find out?" Sara asked, as she sat down on the bed.

"There were conflicting reports, but it appears that Spencer, Max's brother, got into a fight with a guy Spencer thought was stalking his girlfriend. As a result of that fight, the other man died, and Spencer was eventually convicted of manslaughter."

"Was Max involved in the case?"

"Not officially. He was living in Los Angeles at the time, and the investigation was here in San Francisco. Obviously he couldn't impact the case enough to get his brother off. I'm sure there must have been appeals over the years."

Sara nodded. "At least one. Which means the evidence was strong against Max's brother."

"It must have been. I can see where the intent of that fight could be cloudy though."

"That's why he was charged with manslaughter and not murder."

"It must have been hard on Max to see his brother go through that, especially since he was a police officer."

"Interesting to have two brothers in a family—one is a cop and one is a criminal."

"And how far do you go to protect or defend your brother?" Emma asked. "I have more than one hotheaded brother, Aiden included, and I could see any one of them getting into trouble, especially if they were defending someone."

"Aiden would not kill someone," Sara said quickly.

"Don't get all protective," Emma said with a smile. "I was just using Aiden as an example. But we both know that my brother would fight to protect someone he loved. He wouldn't be able to stop himself."

"But Max's brother was convicted, so the jury didn't believe he was acting in self defense or protecting someone else."

"Evidence can be manipulated. You know that; you're a lawyer."

"True. So what are you going to do with all this information?"

"Nothing. It's not my business."

"It sounds like you're making it your business."

"Max and I have to work together, and I want to know where his head is at."

Sara nodded, a knowing gleam in her eyes. "Sure, but you also can't help yourself. You sense a mystery, and you have to solve it. You've been this way your entire life. I remember the time you were convinced that Shayla was stealing your hairbands. We set up a stake-out here in this very room, as I recall," she added with a laugh. "We put all the bands on the floor, and then I hid in the closet, and you were behind the curtains."

Emma groaned. "I cannot believe you remember that."

"Oh, I do. And after an agonizingly boring thirty minutes in the closet, someone came in to swipe the hairbands—your cat, Muffy."

"Well, you can't say we didn't find the guilty party."

"True, but you had the wrong suspect in mind."

"My investigative techniques have actually improved since then," Emma said.

"Well, I would hope so, but my point is—once you get your mind stuck on something, you don't let go."

"True." She paused. "Let's talk about you. What are you going to do for a job now that you've quit the fast track? Are you going to work for a firm out here, open your business, or quit law and grow vegetables?"

"I would like to grow vegetables and herbs, too. How wonderful would it be to have a beautiful, organic garden?"

"In my mind, not so wonderful, but I'm not a gardener like you."

"I've missed digging in the dirt, planting a seed, watching it grow," Sara said, a wistful smile on her lips. "I haven't done any gardening since my mom died. It was something we shared together. I couldn't bear to do it without her. And where would I have done it anyway? I've been living in a crowded city for most of the last decade."

"But that's changed now." Emma thought about her earlier conversation with Aiden, about how he was open to changing his life for Sara. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Are you really willing to give up your career for Aiden? You've worked so hard for a long time. I understand making a change and coming home, but I can't see you following Aiden to the mountains and living in a small town while he spends half the year jumping into fires and is gone for days at a time. Won't you feel like you're giving up too much for him?"

"Aiden hasn't asked me to give up anything," Sara said quietly.

"Maybe he hasn't had to, because you've already offered."

"No, he wants me to be happy, and I want him to be happy. We haven't figured out how we're going to make that work yet. I've thought about moving north. I could open my own small law firm. I'm sure there's business there."

"Not big business."

"I'm ready to move beyond corporate law. It's dry and impersonal. I'd like to know the people I'm working for. I always wanted to help people, not just find loopholes in contracts."

"I guess I can see that."

Sara gave her a long look. "I didn't grow up like you, Emma. I had my mom's love, but my father treated me with cold disdain most of my life. When I lost my mother, I lost my family. And while my dad and I are trying to make a new connection now, I've been alone a long time. I'm not saying that I leapt into Aiden's arms because I was lonely. We both know I've loved him since I was fifteen years old. Now that he loves me back, I feel like my world is suddenly filled with warmth and color and opportunity. I'm happy. I'm free. Whatever happens next will be part of a new adventure."

Emma smiled, seeing the joy in Sara's eyes. "With Aiden involved, your life will definitely be an adventure."

"I'm ready."

"I can see that."

"I'm sorry," Sara apologized. "I'm not being very sensitive, talking to you about love when you're still getting over your breakup."

"Don't be silly. When I listen to you and Aiden talk about your relationship, I'm amazed by how open you both are to changing your lives for the other person. Jon and I weren't willing to do that."

"Then you're better off."

Emma smiled. "It is good to have you back, Sara. I've missed you."

"And I've missed you. You were always on my side, Emma. I was such an awkward, nerdy outcast in school. If I hadn't met you, I wouldn't have had any kind of life back then. You saved me from being bullied. No one would go against a Callaway."

"There is some power in our name," Emma admitted. "Speaking of family, let's get back to yours. Have you told your father about your new relationship with Aiden?"

"No. There's been so much else to discuss."

"Has your dad told you any more about the big family secret?"

"Only that he doesn't regret not telling me about my brother, because Stephen Jr.'s death was too painful for him to handle," Sara said, referring to the fact that she'd recently discovered her parents had had another child before she was born, a child that died at the age of four from a tragic car accident.

"My father didn't want another baby," Sara continued. "When my mom got pregnant with me, he was furious. He'd told her he couldn't love another child, but she'd been desperately lonely and she'd hoped he'd change his mind when I was born. Unfortunately, she couldn't sway him, and he treated me harshly just so he wouldn't accidentally start to love me and put his heart in jeopardy." Sara paused. "I understand so much more now. Not that it makes it all better or excuses the way he treated me, but at least I know he had a reason for his coldness."

"Do you think the two of you will become closer now that everything is out in the open?"

"Too early to tell. I want to be optimistic, but we'll see." She got to her feet. "I should go. I still have to put my bed together."

"Your bed?" Emma asked mischievously.

"I am not going to answer that question," Sara said.

"Hey, you used to tell me the good stuff."

"Not true. Back then there wasn't any good stuff. I was a very dull girl."

Emma laughed. "Well, your life will not be boring with Aiden. Where is he tonight anyway? He disappeared after dinner. Is he still trying to avoid Jack?"

"No, they spoke earlier. Aiden said your father was surprisingly understanding about his not having a job at the moment. He was expecting more pressure to make decisions and plans."

"Jack is happy that Aiden and you are together. He loves you and he thinks you're a good influence on my brother."

"I don't know about that. Anyway, Aiden went out to meet Burke and Drew—some kind of brotherly pow-wow." She paused. "Don’t work too hard tonight, or spend too much time gazing and daydreaming about your hot cop".

"My research is strictly business," she lied.

"I don't believe you for a second."

Emma grabbed a throw pillow and tossed it at Sara as her friend ran through the door. Then she opened her computer and looked straight into Max's questioning gaze.

"Tomorrow, we start over," she said firmly. "Professional, not personal. That's going to be our relationship—got it?" She closed the computer before his eyes could call her a liar.