One Step Closer(72)

He turned and started walking toward the kitchen entrance and Macy followed reluctantly. The physical distance between them screamed that they’d just had a major fight, but Caleb wasn’t concerned about the conclusion that would be drawn by others in the house.

Inside, Jonesy was scurrying around the kitchen putting out the food she’d prepared over the last two days, buffet style in the kitchen, and Wren was helping her finish up.

Macy passed through and scurried down the hall to her room without a word and Caleb was thankful. The situation still wasn’t resolved but he’d take the short reprieve.

Jonesy had hired a few people to help with service and tending the bar in his father’s study, which was already filled with guests. The house was open and there were more people coming in the front doors. He found himself wishing he could just get a plate and a drink then head downstairs with Wren as they did when they were kids and were avoiding both of their parents.

“Caleb, what’s up with Macy?”

“She isn’t feeling well.”

“Should I bring her something?” Wren asked innocently. “Some ginger ale?”

Caleb shook his head. “She’ll be fine. Looks like you’re busy enough.”

“Go on into the other room,” Jonesy instructed. She had several sheet pans and was cutting up various dessert bars into pieces and piling them on plates. “There are people you need to talk to and you’ll need to eat, Caleb. We’ll have this ready in a few minutes,” Jonesy instructed in a motherly tone.

“Ugh.” He groaned. “Okay.”

Wren was filling two big glass bowls with fresh baked rolls to go with an array of meats, cheeses, salads and the desserts Jonesy was plating. She glanced up and met his eyes. “Are you doing okay?”

Caleb nodded then turned away, pulled at his tie to loosen it, yanked it free from his collar, and then unbuttoned the top two buttons. He might have to socialize with these people, but he was going to be comfortable. “I’ll just be glad when this bullshit is over.”

Caleb made his way into his father’s study and asked the bartender for a scotch and water. He leaned his right elbow on the fine wooden surface of the bar and glanced around. There were probably a hundred and fifty people in the house and he didn’t know any of them. Looking at the animated way they were talking and the many smiles and laughs, you’d think it was an after hours gathering at the local country club.

He lifted the glass that the bartender had placed in front of him to his lips, glancing over the rim as he took a swallow. The amber liquid burned down his esophagus and settled warmly in his stomach.

His breath rushed out as he caught sight of a tall blonde woman blatantly flirting with an older man in a dark suit, who was clearly engaged in her exposed cleavage. Her posture was as elegant he remembered, but she was trash; pure and simple.

What the f*ck was Veronica doing here?

Caleb straightened and set his glass down before he made a beeline for her. She was dressed in black, but her lips were covered in bright lipstick that was way to obnoxious for the occasion. He reached out and took her by the arm, turning her around, uncaring of the man she was speaking with or anyone else who would hear. Veronica was clearly shocked at the manhandling.

“Excuse me, I’m Caleb Luxon,” Caleb interrupted the man speaking to his stepmother. “As a public service, I must remove this woman while you still have your dick and your wallet.” His tone was flat, and his expression wry. The older man stood stunned, and cleared his throat as Veronica’s mouth fell open as Caleb’s sudden appearance took her by surprise. Her well made-up face stiffened. “Please excuse us.” He took her arm and moved her a few feet away.

“What the hell are you doing here, Veronica?” The hatred he felt for the woman could be heard in every syllable. “Get the f*ck out of my house.”

Veronica quickly gathered her composure, pasting a plastic smile on her face as she looked up into Caleb’s stern expression.

He hadn’t seen her in four years, though he had to admit she was still well preserved. She was several years younger than his father, though the fine lines around her eyes and mouth were carved a bit deeper. “Did you miss your Botox appointment this month?” he asked scathingly. “You might want to schedule one.”

“Uh hmm.” She cleared her throat and smiled slyly. “Caleb, darling. Is that any way to treat your stepmother?”

“Cut the crap.” Caleb grabbed her upper arm again and started pulling her with him to the front of the house. He didn’t want Wren to have to deal with this bitch and wanted her out, now. “I should have expected you to show up. It’s common knowledge that vultures buzz around carcasses.”

“What a horrible thing to say!” she said shakily.

“You bring out the best in me, I guess,” he said dryly.

“Caleb, stop! I want to see my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” he shot in disgust. He continued to haul her through the entryway and out the front door as people gawked at the scene they were making. “Wren’s not likely to fall for your bullshit lies anymore than I am.”

He let go of her once outside, and the momentum carried her forward and she stumbled on the laid cobblestone of the driveway. “Why do you have to be so hateful? People can change.”

“Not you.” He lifted his arm, signaling Jared to pull the black sedan he’d hired for Wren forward. “Anyone with two brain cells to rub together knows that the only thing that changes about you is which poor bastard you’re f*cking for his bank account.” He laughed harshly. “You must be getting better at it. That poor old man was what, ninety? Maybe he’ll die before he can divorce you, but I guess that’s the plan, huh?”