Playing the Hand You're Dealt by Trice Hickman Page B

He was an interesting mix. A bohemian brother with couture flair. He removed a business card and handed it to me. “Do you have a pen?” He smiled, looking at the pastel-colored bag on my shoulder.
    â€œSure.” I reached in and fished around for my Montblanc.
    â€œWhile you’re at it, why don’t you give me your card, too,” he said, slow and smooth. “I don’t want to run the risk of you misplacing mine.”
    Normally, I’d be all over a handsome man like Tyme from the word go, even with the earthy look he had going on. But there was something about him that made me a little hesitant. Not that he was creepy or anything. It was just a vibe I got. But against my instincts, and in favor of my curiosity, I handed him my pen and then pulled out my sterling silver business card case. We exchanged information, and when he read mine he smiled before putting it in his wallet. I slid his card down into my bag without even looking at it.
    â€œI’ll call you,” he said, extending his hand again.
    I shook his warm palm one last time before saying good-bye. When I walked back out into the humid night air I felt a strange chill on my arms. I replayed my evening as I drove back home. Carl had really thrown me for a loop, and the way he acted tonight was a sure sign that I needed to stay the hell away from him. If he was using, I didn’t even want to know. I just wanted to put as much space between us as possible.
    Blocking Carl out of my mind, I thought about the man I had just met. There was something about him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, and it held a strange appeal for me.
    As I turned into the driveway around the back of the house, I looked up to the second-story window and saw that Emily’s light was still on. I felt like shit for having left her alone. I should’ve told Carl to leave as soon as I answered the door. But you better believe I wasn’t going anywhere with him again. I was serious this time. No more bullshitting around. Right now I needed to concentrate on helping my best friend and making sure that I was there for her.
    After all the things Emily had done for me over the years, and the countless times she’d stood by my side—from drunken skirmishes she helped me to avoid at wild college parties, to nursing me back to health our junior year after an abortion that had gone terribly wrong, Emily’s always been there for me. Now I was finally in a position to repay her for her generosity, kindness, and love . . . and I needed to get this right.
    I messed up tonight, but this was the last time. I was going to help Emily through her grief. I planned to give her the scoop on the city—where to shop, where to hang out, which areas to avoid, and last but not least, I was going to help her find a man. She needed someone to comfort her during times of loneliness. And hey, if it was one thing that I knew a little something about, it was men!

Chapter 5
    Ed . . .
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    Careful Caution
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    I sat in my study, polishing off the last drop of vintage brandy in my snifter. It was the extra-good stuff I reserved to celebrate special occasions, but tonight it was helping me to temporarily escape the complications brewing under my roof.
    I had a hell of a grueling day that began with depositions for a wrongful death case and ended with a last-minute request for a continuance on another. But that wasn’t why I felt drained, like I’d been carrying five-hundred-pound weights on each shoulder, uphill. I felt this way because it had been almost a half hour since Emily retreated upstairs to her room, and I was still trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do.
    I’d been thinking about how I would handle this situation since the day my wife informed me that she had invited our daughter’s best friend to stay with us until her contractor finished renovating her new home.
    â€œEd, Emily will be staying