The Man Plan
“It wasn’t James’s driving that clued her in—his reflexes appeared as sharp as ever. No, it was the glitter in his eyes that caught in the reflection of an occasional passing streetlamp.
She remembered a New Year’s Eve more than a decade ago when he’d drunk the entire Grayson clan—hollow-legged Scotsmen every one—straight under the table. She’d been young and wasn’t supposed to know anything about it, but long after her bedtime that night, she’d snuck out of her room to watch the spirited goings-on from a stealthy vantage point on the stairs.
With plenty of empty bottles to attest, James had pushed away from the table the winner, rock steady on his feet, acting no different than usual. But when he’d come out into the foyer to don his coat to leave, she’d glimpsed a feral, overbright gleam in his eyes.
The same look he wore now.
They completed the trip home in silence. He parked; then they walked, still not speaking, through the dark to the entrance.
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