The Last Man on Earth Read online

  “Yes, Mother. That’s why I went shopping.”

  Brie made a face and laid a pound of raw shrimp, wrapped in butcher’s paper, on the counter. “I ate the pork chop, by the way, and drank the last of that bottle of wine you had sitting around.”

  “My cooking wine. There won’t be any for the scampi now.” Madelyn crossed to her sister’s side and reached into the sack, lifting out a box of dry pasta and two cans of organic whole tomatoes. “That’s what I was planning to cook for dinner, unless you’d rather go out.”

  “No, scampi sounds good even without the wine.”

  “Good thing I always buy extra shrimp to freeze, or we’d be eating light tonight,” Madelyn said. “So, when did you get here?”

  “This afternoon. Around three.”

  “Then you really should have called me instead of waiting around half the day.” It was now well past seven o’clock. “I’d have left work early.”

  “Exactly the reason I didn’t. I knew you’d feel compelled to rearrange your entire afternoon because of me. I figured springing myself on you without a word was enough of an imposition.”

  Madelyn shot her a stern look. “You’re never an imposition.”

  “You didn’t say that the time Mom made you take me to the movies and I ruined your plan to meet Stephanie and Jill so you three could sneak over to Craig Tidewater’s senior siesta party.”

  “That’s because you were a thirteen-year-old pest who squealed louder than a Nazi informant.”

  “Only because you refused to take me with you.”

  “You didn’t have any business going to a party with all those upperclassmen.”

  “Neither did an innocent little underaged sophomore like you.”

  “Hmmph. Well, that’s all water under the bridge now, even if I still haven’t completely forgiven you.”

  They exchanged mock sisterly glares, then broke into grins.

  Brie continued to unpack the groceries, pulling a small white bag of high-end coffee beans out of the sack. She perused the small gold label. “Since when do you drink Jamaican Blue Mountain? I thought you liked tea at home.”

  The beans were for Zack. He enjoyed a cup in the evenings or for breakfast when he stayed over, and Madelyn didn’t mind paying a little more for the good stuff. “I do. The coffee is for . . . um . . . friends.”

  Not a total lie, she assured herself. Zack qualified as a friend these days, didn’t he? And their relationship was supposed to be a secret, although she guessed telling Brie wouldn’t do any irreparable harm. She wasn’t eager to discuss him, though. She trusted Brie; that wasn’t the issue. Pride was.

  With her sharply honed lawyer’s memory, Brie was sure to dig Zack’s name out of her mental Rolodex. Once she did, every nasty remark Madelyn had ever made about him would come flooding back; that’s when Brie’s fun would begin. Serious as she could be, Brie was also a merciless tease when the mood suited her. And there was no doubt the mood would suit once Madelyn confessed she was embroiled in a red-hot love affair with a man she’d once referred to as Lucifer’s spawn.

  “Lucky friends,” Brie murmured about the coffee. “You won’t mind if I indulge in a cup later on?”

  “Hey, it’s your sleepless night.”

  Casually, Madelyn emptied the last few items from the brown paper bag. Folding it into thirds, she tucked it away with a stack of other paper sacks stored in a rack next to the refrigerator.

  Brie waved a hand toward a pair of bakery bags filled with cookies and a bottle of extra-virgin olive oil. “Tell me where these go and I’ll put them away for you.”

  “Cookies in the cupboard, there.” Madelyn pointed a finger. “Just leave the oil out. I’ll use it to cook dinner.” She turned to wash her hands at the sink. “Let me change out of these work clothes; then we’ll talk.”

  Brie’s expression sobered. “Yeah, all right.”

  • • •

  After Madelyn walked from the room, Brie placed the strawberries and a wedge of cheese into the refrigerator. A short search through the cupboards unearthed a stainless steel colander. She’d set it in the sink and prepared to clean the shrimp; then the buzzer rang.

  Someone was downstairs.

  “Madelyn!” she called, moving into the living area. She heard the sound of water flowing through the pipes and caught a glimpse of the closed bathroom door on the opposite side of her sister’s bedroom.

  Millie lounged in a sprawl of gray-and-white splendor across the lilac-colored quilt on the queen-size bed.

  The buzzer rang again.

  Brie moved toward the front door, pressed a button on the wall. “Yes?”

  “Hi, it’s me. Let me up.”

  It was a man’s voice, low, provocative, and obviously well acquainted with whomever he thought he was talking to. Maybe he had the wrong apartment.

  “Who’s this?”

  He hesitated. “Madelyn?”

  “No. It’s Brie, her sister.”

  Silence.

  Curious reaction.

  Who do we have here? Brie wondered, intrigued. Does Madelyn have a man she hasn’t told anyone about?

  • • •

  Unaware of the drama, Madelyn strolled from her bedroom dressed in an ancient pair of blue jeans and a well-washed sweatshirt, long since faded to dusty plum. She saw the look in Brie’s expressive aqua eyes, the small quirk curving her lips.

  She stopped. “What?”

  “You have a visitor. Downstairs.”

  “Who?”

  “He didn’t say.” Brie stepped away from the intercom. “Great voice, though. Very sexy.”

  Oh, hell, Madelyn thought as she moved to take her sister’s place. Why did Zack have to pick tonight to drop by? They usually spent Thursday apart, to catch a full night’s rest before the weekend. She pressed the button. “Hello?”

  “Red? Is that you?”

  “Red?” Brie mouthed, her eyes dancing.

  Madelyn turned, leaned against the wall as if that might make her conversation more private. “Yes, it’s me,” she said in a low voice. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight. My sister’s here, visiting.”

  “So I heard. I didn’t know you were planning on company.”

  “I didn’t either. This evening’s been one surprise after another.”

  He paused. “Perhaps I should go.”

  Yes, perhaps he should. But what was the point now? As far as Brie was concerned, the cat was not only out of the bag; it was sitting on the front stoop, flicking its tail, and meowing to come in. She might as well give in gracefully and open the door.

  But Brie didn’t give her the chance to decide one way or the other as she moved forward and mashed her finger against the door release. It buzzed like a hive of angry bees.

  “What’d you do that for?” Madelyn demanded.

  “I couldn’t let you send him away. I’ve got to meet this mystery man. Why haven’t you told any of us about him? What’s the matter? Is he ugly?”

  “No, he isn’t ugly.”

  “Fat, then?”

  “No, he’s not fat either.”

  Brie’s sense of humor revved into high gear. “A cross-dresser? An excommunicated priest? A dangerous felon on the run?”

  Madelyn crossed her arms, shook her head in exasperation. “No. No. And no!”

  Brie’s playfulness faded. “He isn’t married, is he?”

  “No, of course he’s not married. Why would you even think such a thing?”

  Brie shrugged. “If he’s gorgeous and single, then how come you’re hiding him?”

  A fist rapped twice on the other side of the door.

  “Because he’s Zack Douglas.”

  Madelyn left Brie to puzzle out the name and went to let him in.

  Dressed all in black, Zack could have passed for t
he felon Brie had mentioned, a handsome thief on the run, the sort that populated major motion pictures and graced fashionable magazine covers. He was a man of dangerous magnetism and power. Was that why she’d fallen so easily? Taken to the low habit of lying? Even to her sister.

  He walked in, a few drops of rain clinging to his leather jacket. Without thinking, Madelyn reached up and brushed them away from his shoulders in a gesture of telling intimacy.

  He smiled and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Sorry about this.”

  She met his look. “It’s okay. I didn’t realize it had started to rain.”

  He slipped out of his jacket and hung it on the coat rack. “Just a drizzle.” He turned to greet her sister.

  “You must be Brie,” he said. “I feel like we’ve already met. I’m Zack.” He held out his hand and gave her a friendly glimpse of his straight white teeth.

  Brie wasn’t any more immune to Zack than any other woman, Madelyn noticed, watching the way her sister had to shake herself clear of his spell after a lengthy pause.

  A light of recognition flashed to life in Brie’s eyes. “Lucifer’s spawn, I presume.” She accepted his hand for a quick shake.

  This time, he was the one who looked like he needed a moment to recover. He gazed at Madelyn, then back to Brie. “I haven’t heard that one before. I’ll have to add it to my collection.”

  “The family was a bit surprised when Madelyn chose art over writing,” Brie commented. “She’s got a tongue that can shave steel.”

  “She is gifted with language, I agree,” he said.

  Madelyn sighed. “You two stay here and continue your insults in private. I’m going to make dinner.” She stalked off to the kitchen.

  “So what’s on the menu?” Zack inquired.

  “Shrimp scampi over fettuccini. Have you eaten?” Brie asked.

  “No, and I’m starved.”

  “Then we’d better get in there and help. Otherwise she’s liable to botch the meal just to spite us.”

  But they needn’t have worried. Madelyn relaxed as she cooked, listening to the two of them tease and bicker like a pair of kids trying to one-up each other. They were arguing sports by the time she set the meal on the table.

  Brie’s sweatshirt had sparked a basketball debate. Town loyal, Zack favored the Knicks and was doing a fine job talking trash about the Wizards. He tossed in some choice put-downs for the Celtics too, who were Brie’s old home team, adopted after she’d moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts, for college and law school. Then it had been on to Manhattan until six months ago, when she’d taken a new job in Washington, D.C.

  “They’re doing fine this season,” Brie defended.

  Zack scoffed. “If you call four straight losses fine.” He shifted his chair forward, careful not to dislodge Millie, who’d sought him out earlier and curled into his lap to sleep. The cat opened her eyes, tensed, then settled again after Zack rewarded her with a few reassuring strokes.

  “There’ve been some injuries, and that’s slowed them down,” Brie continued.

  Zack pointed a fork across the table. “What’s slowed them down is they can’t play for shit—”

  “Now, now, children,” Madelyn interrupted. “Time to eat. If you keep this up, I’m the only one who’ll be having any dessert.”

  They both fell silent.

  Zack spoke first. “Is she always like this?”

  “Sometimes she’s worse,” Brie told him.

  They let Madelyn steer the conversation onto a few less contentious topics, ones in which she took some actual interest, and the meal progressed pleasantly.

  They were nearly finished when Brie set down her fork, leaned back in her chair, and took a bead on Zack. “So how long have you been doing my sister?”

  Madelyn’s eyes rounded. “Brie, my God.”

  Zack stopped chewing, met the marble-hard expression in Brie’s eyes. He swallowed, then calmly wiped his mouth on his napkin. “I’ve been seeing your sister since the New Year.”

  “Strange she hasn’t mentioned you to the family.”

  “Mentioning me or not is Madelyn’s choice.”

  “Then you aren’t coercing her in some way? She never used to have anything good to say about you.”

  It was Zack’s turn to relax into his chair. “We’ve been business rivals. We still are. But business isn’t personal, and what I have with her is personal. Very personal. As for your other question, Madelyn’s a strong-willed woman, independent, resourceful. I don’t believe I could coerce her into doing anything she didn’t want to do.”

  “No, but even strong-willed, independent, resourceful women can be manipulated now and then by the right individual. Anyone can be used given a certain set of circumstances.”

  The legs of Madelyn chair screeched as she pushed away from the table. “End the cross-examination, counselor. I’m involved with Zack because I want to be. No one’s being used.”

  “Then why the secrecy?” Brie persisted, eyeballing Zack.

  He opened his mouth to answer.

  Madelyn responded first. “Because that’s the way we want it.” She tapped a finger to her chest. “The way I want it. Zack and I work for the same company, in the same department, and we’ve agreed it’s best, particularly for me, if our relationship is kept quiet. He’s been considerate enough to respect my wishes on this count. I hope you will be as well.”

  “Of course, Malynn,” Brie said, using the family nickname. “If that’s how you wish it.”

  “It is.”

  “I only want to see you happy.”

  Madelyn softened. “I know, and I love you for it.” After a pause, she motioned toward Brie’s dinner plate. “You done with that?”

  “Um, yes. It was wonderful.”

  Madelyn took her sister’s plate, stacked it on top of her own. She turned her head to the left. “Zack?”

  He twined up a last forkful of shrimp and pasta and popped it into his mouth. Chewing, he set his empty plate onto the stack, then reached out for Madelyn’s wrist before she could turn away. Food swallowed, he drew her toward him for a quick kiss, ignoring her reluctance in front of company. “Delicious,” he murmured, smiling as he released her.

  Pink cheeked, Madelyn gathered the dishes and headed toward the sink.

  For a long, silent moment, Zack and Brie assessed each other across the table.

  “You seem like a straight-up guy despite things I’ve heard,” she told him in a voice meant for his ears only. “Nothing against you. I just don’t want her hurt.”

  “I don’t either. It’s never been my intention to hurt Madelyn.”

  Brie studied him another minute, then nodded. The tension between them dissipated.

  From across the room, Madelyn turned, her back to the counter. “I put coffee on for you two caffeine fiends.” She lifted a pair of thin white bakery sacks into the air, one in each hand. “Cookies are for dessert. Your choice—chocolate chip or white chocolate macadamia nut.”

  An hour later, Zack said his good-byes. Madelyn didn’t feel comfortable letting him stay over, not since Brie would be sleeping only a door away, tucked in for the night on the sofa bed. Without discussion, Zack understood Madelyn’s wishes and went to retrieve his coat.

  To give them a moment’s privacy, Brie slipped into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

  “Sorry about this weekend,” Madelyn said, joining him at the front door. “You could come by tomorrow or Saturday. I’ll make dinner again.”

  “You make great dinners, but family comes first. You need to spend the time with your sister. She didn’t come all the way up here to see me.”

  She rubbed a palm over the supple leather of his jacket. “Sorry about the grilling. Brie’s not one to hold back, even if it means being rude.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “I’v
e faced tougher. And I can understand her concern. I’ve got a sister. If she brought a guy like me home, I’d be rude and overly protective too.”

  She smiled at the notion.

  Their eyes met, lingered, a caress of blue to green.

  She laid her palm against his cheek, traced the smooth skin she found there; he’d shaved his usual evening beard off especially for her. “Maybe you could come by on Sunday,” she invited. “After Brie heads home.”

  His eyelids drooped heavy, his gaze lambent. “Maybe I could at that.” He tightened his hold, hard enough to flatten her breasts to his chest. “I’ll need a kiss though, a thorough one, to tide me over.”

  She looped her arms up around his neck. “Then come down here and take it.”

  • • •

  Late Saturday evening, Madelyn and Brie returned to Madelyn’s apartment, exhausted, footsore, but satisfied, a pair of valiant warriors returning home, booty-laden after a day of glorious battle. At its most intense, Madelyn considered shopping to be an act of war, and today the Grayson sisters had taken no prisoners.

  Brie flopped onto the sofa, nearly disappearing beneath the rows of bulging shopping bags draped over her arms.

  Madelyn dumped her load of packages just inside the front door, then staggered over to collapse beside her sister. “Lord, I’m beat.” She kicked off her shoes and thought if she listened closely enough, she could hear the sound her toes made as they sighed in relief.

  Heads back, the women luxuriated in a downy haven of plump sofa cushions and feather pillows.

  “We must have walked fifty blocks,” Brie exclaimed.

  “More like a hundred.”

  “And I think we visited every store in the city.”

  “Half of them at least.”

  “Found some great stuff, though.”

  “And some splendid bargains.” Madelyn closed her eyes. “All in all an excellent day.”

  “Hmm.” Paper rattled as Brie set an armful of shopping bags on the floor. “Where’s the raspberry tart?”

  “Who knows? Probably squished under that lamp you bought.”

  “Oh, I hope not.”

  Madelyn tossed her a quizzical look. “How on earth are you going to lug that thing home anyway?”