Part 2 (1/2)

”You need to get laid,” Derek said, settling back in his white wicker chair. The old furnis.h.i.+ngs had been in Jack's family since the forties, and they creaked a bit under the man's weight.

”Really.” Jack tossed his pen and linked his hands behind his head as he studied his campaign manager. Aside from politics, the guy thought of nothing but s.e.x. Kind of inconvenient for a married man who liked variety.

”Really,” Derek replied, his dark eyes unwavering. ”You haven't been laid since you and Monique broke up.” Derek raised an eyebrow, a crooked smile in place. ”Why don't you call her? She's not stupid, she'd come crawling back in a second if you told her you wanted her. She's just grandstanding. Waiting for an apology and truthfully, Jack, I don't blame her. h.e.l.l, who would? Donovan f.u.c.king James? Your memory that screwed up?”

”Derek,” Jack warned. Donovan James was off limits. He wasn't discussing her with anyone.

”I'm just saying,” Derek tossed back at him.

He'd known Derek McKenzie since fourth grade, and for most of his life, he'd considered Derek to be his best friend. They'd shared a lot of firsts together, including the bottle of lemon gin Jack's father kept at the back of his liquor cabinet. They'd smoked their first joint together, lost their virginity within days of each other (to the same girl). They'd attended Harvard, did a tour of Europe and just for the h.e.l.l of it, took a year off- one that they dubbed danger-to climb a mountain in Peru, ski the Swiss alps, explore the jungles of India and surf the coast of Australia.

h.e.l.l, for a while there, he'd been like an honorary Simon, always around the family. But something had changed over the past few years, and the two men weren't as close as they once were. Jack wasn't exactly sure when it had started, but he knew that sometimes people grew up and they grew apart.

Still, Derek McKenzie had a nose for politics like no other, and he was heading up Jack's bid to become a senator.

Derek raked his hands through his thick crop of dark hair and shrugged. ”I'm just telling it like it is. She wasn't good for you five years ago, and she sure as h.e.l.l would throw a wrench into our campaign now. Jesus Christ, you saw what happened with those pictures a few months back. The press would have a field day if you guys got together, and I'm not gonna let that happen.”

Again. The word was unspoken and Jack's eyes flattened as he watched the play of emotion on Derek's face. He'd never liked Donovan. Jack wasn't exactly sure why, but the two had never gotten along.

”Derek,” he repeated, but his campaign manager plunged forward as if he never heard Jack.

”She might be a G.o.dd.a.m.n win in the sack, but she'd be a loss at the polls. We both know she's nothing but an uneducated, backwoods hick who has no talent other than her t.i.ts and a.s.s-”

”Enough,” Jack growled and this time Derek got it.

Jack got to his feet and faced the ocean, shoulders tight as h.e.l.l and anger barely kept in check. ”You and I are not having this discussion. My personal life is hands off and who I choose to spend time with is none of your business. You don't want to push this Derek.”

”Am I interrupting?”

Both men glanced over at the young woman who stepped onto the porch and tossed a bright pink tote onto the low slung settee near the door. Jack's eyes narrowed as he perused his younger sister from head to toe. Her skirt was on the short side, her top a little too low and- ”What the h.e.l.l did you do to your hair?” Derek asked.

His sister Grace practically jumped up and down. ”Do you like it?” She twirled around, that d.a.m.n skirt lifting, and Jack swore when he caught sight of black underwear covering not nearly enough of her b.u.t.t. The left side of her head was shaved, the top spiky and the rest hung nearly to her waist, the blond ends now a vibrant pink.

He sighed and hid a smile. Only Grace.

”Betty Jo's stylist suggested it, and I love it.” She giggled. ”I don't think Mom is gonna be a fan but whatever.”

”Mom is going to have something to say for sure,” Jack replied.

Betty Jo was their brother Beau's fiance. A former fas.h.i.+on model and now a bona fide movie star in her own right, she was a little bit crazy and a whole lot fierce.

”She's lucky.” Grace giggled. ”The alternative was to go bald.”

”Bald?” Jack asked. Wow.

”Yep. Bald. It's like, back in you know? And I have the right shape for it.”

”What the h.e.l.l does the shape of your body have to do with shaving your hair off?” Was it just him? 'Cause he sure as h.e.l.l wasn't following his sister's logic.

”The shape of my head, Jack.” Grace studied him intently. ”You could pull it off, you know.”

Derek groaned.

”You've got the Simon genes, so your face is pretty hot and your head is round so...”

”He's not shaving his d.a.m.n head,” Derek interjected. ”Christ, we'd lose ten points overnight. Don't underestimate the power of that head of hair.”

Grace made a face at Derek. ”So what are you two arguing about anyway?” she asked, falling onto the nearest chair and kicking off her flip-flops.

”Nothing,” Jack answered, shooting a warning glance at Derek.

”Didn't sound like nothing to me,” Grace answered, chewing her gum and smacking it loudly. ”Actually, it sounded like a lovers spat. Is there something you two aren't telling me?” she teased.

Derek rolled his eyes and scooped up his laptop along with his briefcase. ”Why don't you make yourself useful and convince your brother to get away for a few days and clear his head. He needs to get back in the game. Just because he's a Simon doesn't mean this senator gig is all wrapped up.”

Derek looked at Jack pointedly. ”It's been ages since you've had a vacation. Go and get some R&R. I'll hold down the fort.”

Jack didn't answer him.

”Wow. What the h.e.l.l is up his a.s.s?” Grace said, jumping to her feet after Derek left.

”Nothing,” he said. His mood was s.h.i.+t, and he still had a bone to pick with his sister, but it could wait. Aside from the fact that he didn't have the energy to argue with someone who made arguing look like an art form, he was done discussing Donovan James.

”I think you should,” Grace said making her way over to him until she too was looking out over the ocean.

”Should what?”

”Go away for a few days. I could stay here and look after Coco, and you could clear your head and maybe do what Derek suggested.”

He glanced down at his sister, noting the grin. He was almost afraid to ask.

”And what's that exactly?”

”Get laid.”

He shouldn't have asked. ”Jesus, Gracie. I'm not having this conversation with you.”

She shrugged. ”You do seem more uptight than usual is all, and like I said, I can stay and look after the little monster.”

”You're just afraid to go home and let mom have a look at your new head.”

”There is that,” his sister said with a grin, linking her arms through his as she rested her head on his shoulder. ”At twenty-three, it shouldn't be an issue, but man, she's got a way of making me feel like I'm a teenager again.”

G.o.d, he loved the kid. She was thirteen years younger than him and for most of his life, she'd been the biggest pain in the b.u.t.t. She was still a pain in the b.u.t.t, but she was also so much more than that. She was a complicated, vivacious, petulant, loving, intelligent young woman...who had the worst taste in men.

”You should go to Belize,” Grace said, swatting at a fly.