About That Night

Thirty-three

LATER THAT EVENING, Kyle walked into EPIC, a loft-style restaurant located in the city’s River North area, and spotted his family—future brother-in-law included—sitting at a table near the back.

Jordan had called him earlier and had mentioned that she’d invited Nick to join them for dinner. She’d said it hesitantly, as if worried he might be offended that she’d included him in their yearly tradition.

“You don’t have to run it by me, Jordo,” he’d said. “Nick and I are cool now.”

“Aw, you two really have bonded,” she’d said teasingly. “That’s so cute.”

“Yeah.”

There was a long silence on the phone.

“That’s it?” Jordan had asked. “No sarcastic response?” Her tone immediately turned worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just distracted with work,” he’d lied. “I’ll see you later, at the restaurant.” Then he’d hung up the phone before she could ask any more questions. He simply wanted to get through the dinner with his family as painlessly as possible, so he could get home and try to forget what a royally shitty day this had been.

As he approached the table, he put on a smile and acted casual. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic on the Drive was murder.” He sat down at the empty seat between Nick and his father and picked up the menu in front of him. “So what looks good?”

When nobody answered him, he peered over his menu and saw three pairs of eyes staring incredulously at him.

“You’re really going to make us ask?” Grey said.

Kyle shot Jordan a look of death from across the table. What did you tell Dad?

Nothing, she glared back. “Your deal with Twitter?” she prompted him.

Oh. Right. He’d forgotten that he hadn’t spoken to either his sister or father about that yet. They’d called as soon as the press release had gone out, but he’d been busy talking to prospective clients and, later, on his date with Rylann.

Hard to believe that was less than twenty-four hours ago. Last night had been incredible, and then within the blink of an eye, everything had changed.

Better to know now where you stand with her.

Yeah, well, that was what he was telling himself, anyway.

“I came up with the idea when I was in prison,” Kyle said, in response to their question. “Four months behind bars gives a man a lot of time to brainstorm.” He took a sip of water.

Grey laughed. “That’s all you’re going to say? You’re not usually so modest.”

Jordan eyed him suspiciously. “You’re never so modest.” She threw him a look. What’s going on?

He frowned. Nothing. Go away.

She cocked her head. What did you do now?

He made a face. Thanks for the vote of confidence.

Sitting between Jordan and Kyle, Nick raised an eyebrow, looking ever the FBI agent right then. “What’s with the looks?”

Hearing that, Grey peered up from his menu. “Are they doing the twin thing again? Used to freak Marilyn and me out when they were younger. They’d have entire conversations like that at the dinner table.” He waved his hand dismissively. “You get used to it.”

The conversation moved on—thankfully—and Kyle distracted his family by filling them in on the details about his meeting with the CEO of Twitter. Nick then talked about his promotion to special agent in charge of the FBI’s Chicago division and how that meant he would no longer be doing undercover work. When he smiled at Jordan and squeezed her hand after saying that, Kyle got the impression this had once been an issue for them.

“That’s great to hear, Nick. So does this mean you’re going to make an honest woman out of my daughter anytime soon?” Grey asked, out of the blue.

Jordan’s eyes went wide, appalled. “Dad.”

Kyle watched with amusement as Nick squirmed in his chair. He tipped his drink to the FBI agent. “Welcome to the family.”

Grey turned to him. “Oh, I wouldn’t get too comfortable there if I were you. You’re in the hot seat next.”

“What did I do?” Kyle asked.

“Who’s this brunette bombshell you’ve been cozying up with?” Grey asked.

Damn Scene and Heard. “Don’t believe everything you read in the papers, Dad,” Kyle grumbled. Although that particular bit had been very true.

“Fine. How about what I see in the papers? A few weeks before the brunette bombshell, there was the pretty assistant U.S. attorney. The one whose chest you’re staring at in that photograph.” Grey looked at him pointedly. “You’re a CEO now, Kyle. Maybe it’s time you thought about treating your personal life as seriously as your professional one.”

Kyle took a deep breath, silently counting to ten. It was the same lecture he’d been hearing from his father for years. Normally, this was the part where he grinned and said, Sure, Dad, then left dinner and called whatever girl was the flavor of the week on the way home.

But not tonight.

“First of all,” he began, “I wasn’t staring at the pretty assistant U.S. attorney’s chest. I was looking at her eyes. And in hindsight, that’s probably the moment I should’ve first realized I was totally screwed. As for getting serious, well, here’s a shocker for you: I tried that. Thought I had something really great. But guess what? She doesn’t want to get serious with me. Figured that out just this morning. So if tonight, for once, we could all skip the That Kyle Sure Is a Funny Asshole routine, I would really, really appreciate it.”

Grey’s face fell, turning immediately chagrined. “I’m sorry, Kyle. I didn’t realize.”

Jordan reached across the table, her expression one of genuine sympathy. “What happened? I thought things were going great with Rylann.”

Kyle knew his family meant well, but this was worse than the sarcasm. Expressing emotions and getting in touch with his softer side hadn’t worked out so well for him that morning, and the last thing he wanted to do was relive the experience. So he stood up from the table. “You know, I’m not really in the mood for dessert. You guys go ahead and order without me. I think I’ll step outside for a few minutes—I’ve got some phone calls I need to make.”

KYLE STOOD AGAINST the brick wall on the far end of the restaurant’s rooftop lounge, looking out at the striking nighttime view of high-rise buildings that towered all around him. He scrolled through the voicemail, e-mail, and text messages he’d received during dinner—and got pissed at himself when he realized he’d been hoping one of them would be from Rylann. He hadn’t expected her to call after the way he’d left things, but nevertheless his mind had begun conjuring up all sorts of ideas about what might’ve happened after he’d left her apartment. And none of them were good.

Perhaps he should’ve thought about that before throwing down the gauntlet while the guy she’d once wanted to marry was waiting in her kitchen.

As he was ruminating over the genius of that particular strategy, he suddenly heard footsteps behind him.

“I appreciate it, Jordo,” he said without turning around. “But I’m not in a very talkative mood right now.”

“All right. How about a drink instead?”

Surprised by the voice, Kyle turned around and saw his dad holding two rocks glasses. He offered one to Kyle. “I had them open a bottle of Macallan 21 especially.”

With a slight smile, Kyle took the glass. “Nothing but the best for Grey Rhodes.”

“Nothing but the best for Kyle Rhodes,” Grey corrected him. “The man of the hour.” He took a spot next to Kyle along the wall. “Any particular reason I had to read about the launch of Rhodes Network Consulting in the papers, like everyone else?”

Ah, yes. That. “I meant to call you after the press release went out, but the day just got away from me.” Kyle paused, trying to decide how best to explain. “And before that…this company was something I needed to build on my own. Without any input from the mighty business entrepreneur Grey Rhodes.”

Grey pulled back, seemingly indignant. “It’s your business plan. It’s not like I would’ve shoved unsolicited opinions down your throat.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Do you remember the conversation we had about five minutes ago, about me getting serious with my personal life and Nick needing to make an honest woman out of Jordan?”

Grey conceded that with a smile. “Fine. So I may, perhaps, have a few occasional thoughts that I vocalize when it comes to you and your sister.” He pointed emphatically. “You ever seen Keeping Up with the Kardashians? Well, I have. Caught an episode once, in a hotel room. Gave me nightmares for weeks. God forbid I drop the ball and you two end up like that.”

Kyle fought back a grin at that one. “They ever have an episode where one of the Kardashians hacked into Twitter and went to prison for four months?”

“Still not okay with the jokes from you about that.”

“Sorry.”

Grey looked sideways at Kyle. “Although you did one helluva job turning things around.” He raised his glass in a toast, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously. “To the new face of network security.”

Kyle cocked his head at his father’s choice of words. “That’s going to be the Time cover. You know about that?”

“Sure do. The reporter called me this afternoon, asking for a quote for the story. Mostly, he wanted to know how I feel about the fact that my son is starting his own consulting business.”

“What did you tell him?” Kyle asked.

His father’s expression turned to one of pride. “That I knew nine years ago that you would make an excellent CEO. And that it was a blessing, and a privilege, to walk into my office every day and have you as my right-hand man.” He smiled cheekily. “I also added that I hoped you would continue to recommend Rhodes Corp. products to all your clients, seeing how we protect one in every three computers in America.”

Kyle laughed—of course his father had managed to work that in. “Thanks, Dad.”

They each took a sip of the scotch, and then there was a long pause between them.

Grey leaned in. “You know this is the part of the father-son moment where I’m supposed to ask about this Rylann girl, right?”

Kyle set his drink on the ledge and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “Yep. And now this is the part where I say thank you but that I think I’ve said all I want to say about her tonight. Which will conveniently be followed by the part where a waitress walks up and asks if we’d like anything else to drink, eliminating all further discussion on that topic.”

Just like that, there was a voice from behind them.

“Excuse me, can I get either of you gentlemen something else to drink?”

His father looked over his shoulder, saw the blond waitress standing behind them, and stared at Kyle in astonishment.

Kyle smiled. “I paid her two hundred bucks to come over as soon as I put my hands in my pockets. I knew you and Jordan couldn’t stay out of my business for long.”

ACROSS TOWN, RYLANN sat next to Jon at a wine bar a couple blocks from her apartment. It was the first chance they’d gotten to talk all day. After Kyle had left her standing on her doorstep earlier that morning, she’d unfortunately had no time to wallow in her sorrows. Instead, she’d gone back inside, told Jon that she would call him later, and left to get ready for her grand jury hearing.

Shortly after arriving at the wine bar, Rylann had taken the lead with the conversation. She explained to Jon, in the gentlest of terms, that their relationship was truly, definitely, absolutely over. He listened this time, and though he looked upset and hurt and even a little frustrated, he finally seemed to accept what she was saying.

“So I blew it, then. For good.” He ran his hand over his mouth. “I guess that’s the price I have to pay for being a selfish ass seven months ago.”

Rylann studied him. “Jon, don’t take this the wrong way, but what’s really going on here? I know I should be flattered that you hopped on a plane to try to win me back, but…can I be honest?”

He smiled wryly. “You always are.”

“This whole thing feels more desperate than genuine. You seem kind of lost.”

He swirled his wineglass, saying nothing at first. “I don’t know. I just feel like there’s something missing. Italy was great for the first couple months, but then the excitement wore off. I guess I thought that if you and I could get back what we used to have, at least that part of my life would feel right again.” He looked at her over the glass. “I am sorry, you know. We had a good thing going, and I ruined it.”

It was tempting to let him take all the blame. And, no doubt, he deserved a lot of it. But as Rylann sat there, looking at the man she’d once genuinely believed she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, she realized, for the first time, that she shared a tiny bit of the responsibility for the demise of their relationship as well. “It wasn’t just you, Jon.”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

She sighed. “There was something missing. I don’t think either of us realized it at the time, and frankly, I’m still not sure I can put my finger on it. On the outside we seemed happy, but there had to be something wrong, right? Otherwise, you would’ve never wanted to leave for Italy without me, and I…would’ve tried to make you stay.”

He considered this, then gave her a half smile that was bittersweet. “And we both know how tenacious you can be when you want something.”

She laughed softly, acknowledging that. “Very true.”

They talked for a long time after that, about old times, Italy, and Rylann’s new life in Chicago. Afterward they walked outside and said good-bye on the sidewalk.

“You’re going back to Rome tomorrow, then?” she asked.

Jon nodded. “Temporarily, at least. I took the week off from work, hoping that I’d be spending it with you.” He shrugged. “Maybe now I’ll use the time to figure things out. Decide what I want to do with my life when I grow up.”

“Whatever it is you’re looking for, I hope you find it,” Rylann said in all sincerity. “I want you to be happy.”

“You, too, Ry.” He touched her cheek in good-bye, then climbed into the taxi that would take him back to the hotel he’d checked into for the night.

Rylann stood there on the sidewalk, watching Jon drive off. She remembered a similar day seven months ago, when they’d said good-bye outside the apartment they’d shared in San Francisco. Only that time, the taxi had taken him directly to the airport and to his new life in Italy.

Once the cab disappeared from sight, she walked the few blocks to her apartment, her mind drifting back to everything that had happened that morning. Several weeks ago, she’d told Rae that she’d never once considered going to Rome with Jon because doing so would’ve been crazy, and she didn’t do crazy. But that wasn’t entirely true. These past couple of months, with Kyle, she’d been doing a lot of things that didn’t make the most sense from a practical perspective. For him, she’d been willing to bend the rules, to go against logic, and to simply follow her heart.

And truthfully, that scared her a little.

She’d guessed, from the moment that she’d met Kyle, that he could cause her all sorts of trouble. She’d sensed it from that very first smile. Once they’d reconnected, she’d told herself that she was being careful, that they were just having fun. But these past few weeks had gone way beyond fun and had shown her how truly amazing it could be to have Kyle Rhodes in her life.

Earlier that morning, when he’d made the comment about her being embarrassed to be seen with him, she’d just felt…bad. While the sneaking around had been a little exciting, she knew he deserved better. But she’d been caught off guard when he’d forced her hand on the issue right then and there.

So now it was decision time. She could let Kyle walk out of her life a second time and preserve her perfect reputation as Meth Lab Rylann, the star AUSA who had never taken a misstep at work and who’d fought hard to establish herself as a woman who should be taken seriously in a profession that often failed to do so. Or she could accept that her crown would forever be tarnished, potentially diminish herself in the eyes of her boss and coworkers, and come out of the closet about the fact that she was dating the Twitter Terrorist, her former witness and the most infamous ex-con to be prosecuted by her office in recent history.

Mulling this over, Rylann let herself into her apartment and threw her purse and keys on the kitchen counter. She went to her bedroom and stripped out of the gray skirt suit and heels she’d worn that day. In the closet, she hung up the suit next to the others, the row of black, navy, gray, beige, and brown jackets forming a neat, orderly line. Then, instinctively, her eyes went to the shoe box on the top shelf near the back, the one with Kyle’s flannel shirt. She thought of something she’d said to him that night, right after she’d kissed him.

I thought I’d fly by the seat of my pants for a change.

The only question left was just how far she was willing to take that.