Wrong Place, Right Time(26)

Satisfied that I have a sound plan and excellent reasons for executing it, I pull out two glasses and make sure that I have a nice fat bottle of wine chilling in the fridge for when she arrives. The thought passes through my mind that I should go over to the mirror and try to fix my face, but then I decide it’s probably better if she sees me totally messed up like this. I need to twang those heartstrings of hers, and Dev was right about one thing: May does have a really big heart.

As soon as she sees how much this is upsetting me and how worried I am, she’ll be in the right frame of mind to listen to reason. I’m going to pull out all the stops for this one. I feel like I’m actually saving her life by doing it.

The righteousness of my awesome plan puffs my heart up and makes me feel as though for the first time in a long time I’m actually doing something that matters. That’s me. Big Sister Jenny. Watch out, bad guys, because nobody’s going to hurt my little sister; not if I have anything to say about it.





CHAPTER NINE

I hear May’s car pull up in the driveway, so I hustle into the kitchen and take the bottle of wine out of the refrigerator. I’m not going to ask her if she wants any; I’m just going to give it to her and guilt her into drinking it. The doorbell rings as I’m pulling the cork. I pause and frown as I look toward the hallway. We’re using doorbells now?

“It’s open!” I yell, annoyed. She knows I don’t lock my front door when I’m home during the day, and she has a key besides. I pour two glasses of wine almost to the brim. I need to get my sister buzzing so I can talk some sense into her.

Yes . . . it’s true. I am willing to drug my sister to get her to see reason. Big Sister Code allows this in emergencies, and this is definitely an emergency.

The door creaks open.

“I’m in the kitchen!” I trill. I need to throw her off the scent of my anger by acting like everything’s hunky-dory, like I just want some bonding time with her. She’ll never see my sneak attack, big-sister advice coming until it’s all over but the crying.

The wood floors groan as May makes her way down the hallway. I put the bottle of wine down slowly, a trickle of confusion and then fear floating through my brain. My sister doesn’t weigh enough to make my floors sag.

“May?”

She doesn’t answer. Oh, God. Someone who’s not my sister is about to enter my kitchen! My knife block is on the other side of the room; I’ll never make it there in time to grab one.

I snatch the corkscrew in my right fist and hold it up at my shoulder with my arm cocked back. If it’s a bad guy with a gun, I’m probably doomed, but I’m at least going to try to poke a hole in him on my way down, get me some DNA. I watch CSI. I know all they need is a speck of it.

A giant of a man comes around the corner, stooping over to avoid hitting his head on my doorframe as he walks into the kitchen. I just stand there, my weapon and DNA-collection strategy forgotten.

“Hey, Jenny.” His eyes travel from my face to my hand, and then to my weapon. “Not expecting me, I take it.”

I slowly lower the corkscrew to the counter and place it down gently. I’m trying to rein in the emotions that want to run wild all over this guy. He is so lucky I didn’t have a knife in my hand; I might very well have thrown it at him, given how mad I am right now. I cannot believe my sister sent Dev in her place. My heart is breaking.

He holds up my laptop in front of him as a shield. “I come in peace.”

I shake my head slowly. My sister has violated so many sections of the Sister Code today, I don’t even know where to begin as I try to list all of her transgressions in my head.

“Is that wine for me?” he asks, glancing at the counter.

I look at the two glasses. “No, actually, the wine was for me and my sister. But I guess she was too busy to bring me my laptop or to sit down and chat with me.” I don’t know whether to cry or throw the wine glasses across the room. I’m considering doing both.

Dev takes a couple more steps into the kitchen and puts the laptop down on the counter. “She was going to bring it over to you herself, but I asked her if I could do it instead.”

I stare at him and blink a few times.

“Are you mad?” he asks cautiously.

I huff out a breath. “Not at you.”

“Don’t be mad at your sister. She thought she was doing a good thing.”

“A good thing? By avoiding me?”

“No. By sending me over.”

“Why would you coming over here be better than her coming over?”

His face goes a little red and he shrugs. “I don’t know . . . maybe she . . .” He stops there and stares at the wine.