Before she could say anything, a firm thump against her midsection had Sophy jumping back. “Was that the baby?” She looked at Tallie, wide-eyed.
Tallie laughed. “Yes. My girl likes her space.” She rubbed her burgeoning belly affectionately. “This one’s a girl. But more about her later. It’s so good to see you.” She gave Sophy another fierce hug, but was careful to move back before the baby kicked again. “George should get run over by trucks more often.”
“No.” Even for the pleasure of seeing Tallie again, she didn’t want that.
“Well, not really.” Tallie laughed with a shake of her head. “But if it brings you home—” She beamed at Sophy.
“I’m not ‘home,’” Sophy said quickly. “I’m just…here. For the moment. I got a call from the doctor last night. When George was unconscious they needed his next of kin’s permission for any medical procedures, and because we’re not officially divorced—yet—that was me. And so—” she shrugged “—I came.”
“Of course you did,” Tallie said with blithe confidence. “Besides, it’s about time. How is he?” Her smile faded a bit and she looked concerned. “He wouldn’t let me come see him last night.”
“He looks like he’s been hit by a truck,” Sophy said. If Tallie hadn’t seen him yet, Sophy wanted to prepare her. “Seriously. He’s pretty battered. But coherent,” she added when Tallie’s expression turned worried.
“He flat-out refused to let us come last night. Well, there’s only Elias and me around. Mom and Dad are in Santorini. And none of the boys—” her other brothers, Theo, Demetrios and Yiannis, she meant “—are here. So he was safe. He probably wouldn’t have contacted me at all if he hadn’t needed someone to take care of Gunnar.”
“Gunnar?”
“His dog.”
George had a dog? That was a surprise. “Did he rescue it?” Sophy asked.
Tallie frowned. “I don’t think so. I think he got him as a puppy. Why?”
Sophy shook her head. “Never mind. I was just—never mind.” She could hardly say, Because George rescues things. Tallie wouldn’t understand.
George’s sister shoved a strand of hair away from her face. “He said to go to his place and feed Gunnar, put him out and absolutely don’t come to the hospital. He didn’t need me hovering.” She shook her head.
“George is an idiot,” she went on with long-suffering sisterly fondness. “As if I would hover. Well, I will. But at least I waited until this morning. I’ll go annoy him for a few minutes, just to let him know he can’t push me around. And because the rest of the family will fuss and worry if someone hasn’t set eyes on him in the flesh. But now you’ve come, you take the keys.” She dug in the pocket of her maternity pants and thrust a set of keys into Sophy’s hand.
“Me?” Immediately Sophy tried to hand them back. “They’re not mine,” she protested. “I can’t take George’s keys!”
“Why not? Because you and George are separated? Big deal.”
“We’re not separated! We’re divorcing. I thought we already were,” Sophy said. “Divorced,” she clarified.
“But you’re not? Good. Easier to work things out,” Tallie said with the confidence of someone who had done just that and was living happily ever after. “Elias and I—”
“Were not married when you went your own ways,” Sophy said firmly. “It is not the same thing. And I can’t take George’s keys.” She tried to hand them back again, but a yawn caught her by surprise and so she ended up covering her mouth instead.
“You’re exhausted,” Tallie said. “How long have you been here?”
“Not that long. A couple of hours. I got into LaGuardia before dawn.”
“You took a red-eye? Did you get any sleep at all?”
“Not really,” Sophy admitted. “But I’m hoping I will on the way home.”
Tallie looked appalled. “On the way home? What? You’re going home now?”
Sophy shrugged. “He doesn’t need me here. Or want me here. He made that quite clear.”
Tallie snorted dismissively. “What does he know? Besides, it doesn’t matter if he needs you or wants you. I do.”
“You? What do you mean?”
“You, my dear Sophy, are going to save my life,” Tallie told her, taking her by the arm and steering her to a pair of chairs where they could sit.
“Don’t you want to see George?” Sophy said hopefully.
“In a minute. First I want to get you on your way.” The CEO Tallie had once been came through loud and clear. “I need your help.”
“What sort of help?”
“George, bless his heart, thinks that I can simply drop my life and take over the running of his. And admittedly, there might have been a time I could have done it,” Tallie said with a grin. “But that time is not now. Not with three little boys, a baby due in three weeks, a homemade bakery business that has orders up the wazoo, orders I need to get taken care of before the arrival of my beautiful baby girl—” Tallie rubbed her belly again “—not to mention a husband who, while tolerant, does not consider sharing me with a dog for more than one night to be the best allocation of my time.
“Besides,” she went on before Sophy could say a word, “he has to go to Mystic for a boat launch this afternoon. He took the kids to school, but I need to be home to get Nick and Garrett from kindergarten and Digger from preschool. I was planning to bake today before I had to go get them. And I’d take Gunnar home but he doesn’t get along with the rabbit, er, actually vice versa. So—” she took a breath and gave Sophy a bright, hopeful smile “—what do you say? Will you save me? Please?”
Sophy was even more exhausted just thinking about it. She swallowed another yawn.
“And you can sleep while you’re there,” Tallie said triumphantly.
“George won’t like it.”
“Who’s telling George?” Tallie raised both brows.
Not me, Sophy thought. She should say no. It was the sane, safe, sensible thing to do. The less she had to do with George or any of his family before the divorce was final, the less likely she was to be hurt again.
But life, as she well knew, wasn’t about protecting yourself. It was about doing what needed to be done. “Payback” wasn’t always what you thought it would be. It didn’t mean you had a right not to do it.
“All right,” she said resignedly. “I’ll do it. But as soon as George can come home, I’m leaving.”
“Of course,” Tallie said, all grateful smiles. “Absolutely.”
Sophy hadn’t let herself think about where George might be living ever since he’d walked out of her life.
If she’d wanted to guess, she’d have picked some sterile but extremely functional apartment where he’d be called upon to do as little interaction with his environment as possible.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
George had a brownstone on the Upper West Side. Not just an efficient studio in a brownstone or even a complete floor-through apartment. George owned the whole five-story