Loving Jessie by Dallas Schulze

thing.”
    “Sounds like something out of a fortune cookie,” Matt muttered irritably.
    “Probably where I got it.” Gabe lifted his own cup and sipped. “How long has it been since you picked up a camera?”
    The quiet question caught Matt off guard. He should have known that Gabe would have guessed. Not much slipped by his older brother.
    “Not since I was shot,” he said after a long moment. “I don’t know if I even want to pick them up again.”
    Gabe didn’t protest. “You want to tell me what happened over there?”
    “No.” Matt drew a long, shallow breath. “No, I don’t.”
    “I suppose you haven’t talked to anyone else, have you?” Without waiting for a response, Gabe shook his head. He stood up, setting the glider into trembling motion behind him. “You always were pigheaded as hell.”
    “One of my charms,” Matt said, a little shakily.
    “Give it time.” Gabe’s hand squeezed his shoulder for an instant. “You always know where I am.”
    He went inside, and the screen closed quietly behind him, leaving Matt alone on the porch.

Chapter Four
    M att had been in Beirut during his tenth high-school reunion and covering the aftermath of an earthquake in Afghanistan when the twentieth rolled around, but if he’d felt any regret at missing an opportunity to touch base with his old classmates, he could now put it to rest. As near as he could tell, everyone he’d ever gone to school with had come to the welcome-home party Reilly had insisted on throwing for him. A lot of them had been guests at Reilly’s wedding five years ago, so there wasn’t that sense of shock he would have felt if he hadn’t seen them in twenty years, but there were some…
    “Who’s the redhead with the large…attributes?” he asked Reilly, pitching his voice low to avoid being overheard. “The one talking to Randy Harris?”
    Reilly followed Matt’s eyes to the tall, striking woman with truly astonishing curves. He swallowed the last of the bacon-wrapped oyster he’d just popped in his mouth and grinned. “Livvy Bradford.”
    Matt’s brows drew together as he tried to place the name. When he did, he shot Reilly an astonished look.“Captain of the debate team Livvy Bradford? Head of the class Livvy Bradford? Computer nerd Livvy Bradford?”
    Reilly’s grin widened. “That’s the one.”
    “Can’t be.” Matt shook his head. “Livvy Bradford was built like a swizzle stick. Couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. And she had carrot-red hair, buck teeth and glasses.”
    “Amazing what silicone, Miss Clairol, an orthodontist and an optometrist can do for a girl, isn’t it?”
    “Amazing.” Matt shook his head, unable to reconcile the woman he was looking at with the skinny, gawky teenager he remembered. “What happened?”
    Reilly lifted a fat pink shrimp from its icy bed and bit into it. “She got married, got divorced. Started some sort of software company. She made a fortune. That’s when she got the large…attributes and new teeth. Got married again, divorced again. Started a consulting business. Made another fortune. I think after that she got the hair extensions and contacts. Married again, divorced again. Started an Internet business that does something or sells something. She’s still working on that, but, a couple of months ago, she had her lips done.”
    “Done?”
    “Collagen injections.” Reilly tapped one finger against his own pursed lips. “If you were closer, you’d notice. Mouth looks just like a mackerel now.” He grinned when Matt laughed. “If she follows her usual pattern, she’s about ready for husband number four. Maybe you should put yourself on the list for the job. Woman’s got more money than God. If you played your cards right, you could become a very well-kept man.”
    “Yeah, being a gigolo has always been one of myburning career ambitions.” Matt lifted his glass and took a swallow of beer.
    “I don’t think they call it a gigolo