RIDE: The Complete Delancey Brothers Trilogy
by Joanna Blake
Chapter One Jackson
"You look awfully preoccupied for a cowboy."
I glanced to the side. A woman was leaning against the bar next to me. She was attractive in the way that most of the rich women were around here. Polished to a dull shine.
I grunted and went back to my drink, not in the mood for small talk.
I was having a real bad day.
Usually I didn't drink to excess. Today was an exception. Once a year on this day, I almost always tied one on. It was barely 5 pm at the club and I was already three or four drinks in. I thought for a minute.
Nope, it was five.
"It's Jackson right? I'm Nancy."
I couldn't ignore her completely. If she was here, she was a club member or the guest of one. She did look vaguely familiar...
"Nice to meet you."
I didn't hold out my hand, or turn towards her. That didn't stop her from settling onto the stool beside me. She ordered a drink, her body language letting me know that she was more than just interested.
She was determined.
She stirred her drink with a tiny straw, pulling it into her lips seductively. The effort was wasted on me. I was not the right fish for that sort of bait.
"Actually, we've already met."
I glanced at her again. Like I said, she did look familiar. But I couldn't place her. Hell, I could barely tell how old she was. All I knew was that she was on the prowl.
I didn't want to get laid. I wanted to get drunk. There was only one woman on my mind tonight. Today was the anniversary of the day my mother died.
My brothers and I had been young men when we lost her. I was already working for our dad at the estate, Daniel was still in college, and Jake had run off to God knows where.
It was the worst day of my life. It was the first time I had ever seen my father cry. He was always a strong, silent man. A disciplinarian.
Not that I ever needed to be disciplined. My brothers on the other hand... Daniel had his moments of misbehavior growing up, but Jake had been a full out rebel. I never did anything bad, other than laying far too many of the local girls.
I never got caught though.
Nancy put her hand on my arm, yanking me back to the present.
"It was about a year ago actually."
She smiled at me, her overly bright smile suggesting we'd done more than just meet.
"Exactly a year ago..."
Now she had my attention. I'd been at the club last year as well, at least for part of the evening. Then I'd gone bar hopping with a lanky brunette. I glanced at her again.
"Your hair is different."
She smiled at me, flashing her overly white teeth.
"So you do remember."
I grunted, shrugging. What difference did it make? I remembered having a terrible time but it was a little bit choppy. Like I said, I didn't drink often, but when I did, I was a professional.
Go big or go home.
Nancy sipped her drink and watched me drink mine. I didn't encourage her or dissuade her. It was a free country after all. She could stare at me all night.
It made no difference to me one way or the other.
"You were pretty hammered, though it took me awhile to figure that out. The big ones don't show it as fast."
I nodded. I had been drunk. And she was right, I always hid it well. Another famous Delancey trait. The men anyway. My mother had been a lightweight. It always made us try to goad her into another glass of wine at holiday dinners. She would giggle like a schoolgirl.
I closed my eyes, wishing she was still here with us for the thousandth time.
"Care for a do over?"
I shook my head.
"Not this year honey."
"This year? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Forget it."
She glared at me for a second then leaned in close.
"Your loss."
I snorted. I highly doubted it. I tossed back the rest of my drink and signaled the bartender for another.
Angelina
"You are absolutely sure you are going to be okay?"
Casey nodded, smiling at me. But I could see the exhaustion in her eyes. My little sister was tough, but she'd been through hell and back.
We both had.
It was pure hell to watch someone you loved get poisoned by a pharmaceutical company. Probably not as terrifying as it had been for her, but still, harder than anything I'd ever been through.
I'd quit my high paying job in advertising to take Casey on an endless round of doctor appointments. We'd had to pare down, cook all our meals, and sell off a bunch of our possessions to afford the copays and supplements. Never mind the cost of alternative therapy in the city. Massages, acupuncture, naturopaths. They were all double the price here, if not triple.
And now we were leaving.
After five years I'd had enough of the rat race in New York City. And we needed space and clean air for Casey to get better. Which she would.