Summer of Love - Carly Phillips Page 0,3

sentence. Ryan was also floored by the news that Faith had had a child.

He glanced down and realized he’d clenched his fists too tightly around the steering wheel, and loosened his grip. Thinking of Faith was always difficult. More so now that he understood what had happened after she’d run away.

Growing up, Ryan had alternated between missing his older sister and envying her the freedom he felt sure she’d finally found. Their conservative upbringing in an elite suburb of Boston, Massachusetts had never matched his sister’s wilder personality. As his older brother, J.T., had already moved out, her running away had left Ryan as the only child at home. His parents had disowned Faith because of her defiance, and Ryan had caught on quickly, always behaving as expected.

Since J.T. had followed tradition and gone into the family department-store business to help his father and uncle, Ryan had become an attorney with the family’s blessing. He was a partner in a firm downtown, distancing himself in ways his sister couldn’t while she’d lived at home.

That distance had given him the strength to continue the search for his sister, and it had finally paid off. He was on his way to meet his niece, a fourteen-year-old girl named Samantha who had been in and out of foster care since her mother’s death six years ago. He planned to rescue his niece from that hellish fate and bring her home where she belonged.

He pulled up to a well-kept house in a suburban Jersey neighborhood. The clapboard siding was painted a cheery yellow with white trim and on the front lawn was a sign that read Costas Day Spa. Evening Hours Available.

He shrugged at the absurdity of the sign and turned off the ignition. The investigator had given him background information on the current family Samantha resided with, and they were an odd bunch. Just a year ago, they’d made their living performing a Jersey Shore comedy act based on the Addams family. Now they ran a spa. With clients coming in and out, Ryan didn’t consider it the ideal place to raise a child.

Surely his niece would be thrilled to find out she had a sane and stable uncle and family who wanted her. Well, he wanted her. The rest of the family, with the exception of his uncle Russ, wasn’t so keen on bringing “his delinquent sister’s child” back into the fold. He’d have to deal with his uptight parents later. In the meantime, he drew a deep breath, stepped from the car and straightened his tie before heading toward the house.

Music and laughter sounded from behind the home, and when nobody answered the doorbell, he followed the path that led to the backyard. He looked around, taking in the sights. A disc jockey played loud music while a monkey—he blinked, certain he was seeing things, and looked again. Damn, it was a monkey, dancing onstage with a pretty blond teen.

He wondered if the girl was his niece and his heart twisted tight in his chest. A bunch of kids ran by him, laughing and giggling. He glanced up at the clear blue sky, and for the first time, he noticed, draped between two large trees, a banner that said Happy Birthday, Sam. Welcome to the Family.

A sick feeling of unease settled in his gut as he realized he wouldn’t be waltzing in and rescuing his sister’s child from an unfit, uncaring environment. Certain he needed to rethink and devise a new approach, he turned to leave when a light touch on his arm stopped him.

“You’re here!” a female voice said.

He turned to see an attractive woman wearing a bright red kimono with long black hair flowing over her shoulders. Her outfit was unique and inexplicable. Where he came from, women dressed in designer dresses and suits. He didn’t know what to make of the middle-aged geisha woman appraising him with frank, interested green eyes that made him squirm.

“I’m Elena Costas.” She treated him to a welcoming smile. “You must be the new man from Social Services. I know our caseworker is on vacation, but she promised she’d send someone in her place to wish Sam a happy birthday—which you can do in a minute. Please, first come and meet my husband.”

A hint of Greek accented her speech, and she spoke quickly without taking a breath, giving him no time to insert a word until she’d finished.

He wasn’t the man from Social Services, and it was best she knew it up front.