The Throwbacks by Stephanie Queen Read Free Book Online Page B

something,” Dan said as they got onto the lift. The doors slid closed.
    “I’m the one who should have been able to do something. I almost quit school and ran away from home over it. I should have. Then maybe my father would have budged. I was angry with my father for a very long time when he refused to do anything,” David admitted for the first time. The elevator was silent.
    “What did you expect him to do?”
    David paused as he let the sharp pain in his gut slice through and subside, the way it did every time he thought about it, even now all these years later. He spoke quietly.
    “I expected…I asked him to take Oscar in…to be part of our family.”
    “You were in London then. That was crazy to expect.”
    “Oscar saved my life. I was a kid.” David felt the tug of pain again.
    “He saved both of us,” Dan said.
    They both fell silent. The elevator delivered them to a carpeted corridor. They walked to Dan’s office, and he closed the door behind them. Dan took the seat behind his desk and David took one of the two uncomfortable but serviceable chairs in front. They looked at each other and David nodded. They needed to put Oscar aside for now. But they’d get back to it. Dan picked up his phone and called the detectives into his office.
    Unfortunately, the meeting was long and tedious. The men were thorough in their report, but in their attempt to impress him they came off as if they were auditioning for a part on Broadway as Sherlock Holmes. On top of that, they yielded no useful leads, David thought as Dan dropped him back off outside his townhouse several hours later.
    “I’ll pick you up at three forty-five sharp for our appointment with the restaurant owner. And I promise not to waste your valuable time,” Dan said as David got out of the chief’s car.
    David ran up his front steps and started loosening his tie the minute he walked in the door. His schedule had tightened dramatically. He had his appointment with the decorator in moments. After their appointment with the restaurant owner, he was to go to Dan’s house for dinner to meet his dire fate—Maria, the age-appropriate woman who was no doubt appropriately serious-minded. In short, someone to settle down with and share companionable silences with on a Sunday morning while they read the Times in bed and sipped tea.
    He hurried to his room and to his well-organized closet. He needed something more casual—Esther’s orders—no shirt and tie. She had sent explicit instructions, having gotten to know David this past year. He was perfectly comfortable in a shirt and tie and jacket. It was a very civilized way to eat dinner, especially when one was getting to know someone new whom one wanted to impress. His starched white shirt was half unbuttoned, his cuff links on the dresser, when the doorbell rang.
    The decorator was early and it was an odds-on-favorite that it would turn out to be a very particular gay man who would tsk-tsk him and look down his nose at his disarray. He resignedly headed for the door. He’d just give the man carte blanche to design him a tasteful and warm homey home. He opened the door.
    “Hello, David!” Grace glided into the foyer past him, spreading her arms, spinning around and ending in front of the brick hearth. She stood in the sunlight as it streamed through the white-trimmed, box-paned windows.
    She was breathtaking. Literally. He stood a moment to watch her, catch his stolen breath and soak in her delighted enthusiasm while he could.
    “By all means come in,” he said in spite of the fact that he should get rid of her—tell her that he had a decorator coming over—but he was enjoying watching her at the moment and decided to indulge himself for a few more minutes.
    She walked across the sunny would-be living room to the appallingly large windows, her face beaming and her step lively. He fancied that she danced over to the windows.
    “Aren’t you going to ask me?”
    “I suppose I should. What are you