“Callie would still be at Dominion if it wasn’t for you.”
Exasperation crossed his face. “Look, I’m not authorized to tell you anything outright . . . but I can’t stop you from guessing. As soon as you tell me how long you’ve been in love with her.”
Thorpe sent Mackenzie a speculative glance. He’d guessed that Sean wasn’t above bending the rules, but found having that confirmed helpful. And even if he was no good for Callie, Thorpe ached to fill in some of the gaps in his knowledge about the girl. “Easily over three years.” Not that it’s ever going to matter. “Happy?”
“That’s a long time to have a stiff dick, old man.”
That jibe hit a bit too close to home. “Fuck off.”
“Hey, it’s good for me. Your loss is my gain.”
“It’s not over yet,” Thorpe threatened, sadly aware that it most likely was.
Sean shrugged. “Only Callie can settle this argument. In the meantime, you want to know something in her file or not.”
Prick. “Yeah. I’ve often wondered how Callie supported herself in other cities before she came to me. Your file say anything about that?”
“Yes. She’s fallen back on the same occupation several times in several cities. Always with different names, of course. Any guesses?”
“Besides waitressing?”
“She’s done that more than once, so I’ll give you a point for that answer. But I’m thinking of something else.”
“You’re enjoying holding this over my head,” Thorpe accused.
“Yep.” With a grin, Sean shrugged. “Sue me.”
Rolling his eyes, Thorpe focused on the empty road and the sign that told him it was forty miles to the nearest town. “Callie’s great at a lot of things. She speaks fluent French, but there’s not a big calling for that here.”
“Nope.”
“She’s an organizational dynamo, and I’m sure she could do that professionally, but opening her own business would put down too many roots for her, so I’ll bet that’s not it, either.”
“I’ve searched Callie’s room more than once,” Sean admitted. “She’s extremely organized.”
“She made my sty of an office the neatest it’s ever been. She has a good head for math, too.”
“According to her grades, she was good in most of her classes.”
Thorpe smiled. “Except science, I’ll bet. I enjoy some of the shows on the Science Channel, and she occasionally curls up with me during off-hours to watch. She seems lost half the time.”
That made Mackenzie laugh. “I can picture that. Ever seen the program narrated by Morgan Freeman? I like that one.”
“Through the Wormhole? Me, too.” Thorpe turned a stare on him, shocked that they agreed on anything. In fact, they were almost getting along.
Sean cleared his throat. “Keep guessing. Another way Callie made ends meet?”
Yeah, moving on . . . Thorpe was uncomfortable with the concept of the two of them being chummy. “She’s a disaster in the kitchen. Cereal might be too tough for her, so I’m guessing she didn’t cook as a kid. And how would she have learned? I’m sure her father employed a full staff, nannies—chefs, gardeners, a personal valet—the works.”
“According to her files, yes,” Sean confirmed.
Which made one of his most precious memories of Callie all the sweeter. Thorpe smiled. “She knows how much I like Italian cream cake and tried to make it, along with a lovely dinner for my last birthday. The meal was horrific, and we both laughed. But the cake was actually pretty good.”
His words seemed to hit Sean between the eyes like a bullet. The fact that she’d tried so hard to please Thorpe clearly left him feeling out in the cold. Oddly, Thorpe understood. Every time he’d see her dress up for Sean or kneel for the f**ker, it felt like a two-by-four to his gut.
“Since she never made any money cooking, I suspect Callie could earn her living either singing or dancing. She’s exceptional at both.”
“Wow, you do know her.” Sean looked somewhere between awed and annoyed. “Singing. That’s how she paid her bills more than once. In fact, during her brief stint in Nashville, an executive for a major label saw her at a bar and offered her a record deal. She made an appointment to visit his office the next day.”