Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(14)

Linnea picked up her salad fork and twirled the tips of the prongs into the white linen tablecloth. “I’ve also been researching companies that need an environmental consultant.”

“Well, that’s more like it,” he said, leaning back in his chair. He grabbed his cut-crystal tumbler and swirled the bourbon before taking a long sip. “Now, explain to me what that means, exactly.”

“Well,” she began, frustrated because she’d already explained this to him, “I would help a company assess how a development project might affect the water, soil, air, or wildlife in the area. They’re called environmental impact studies. There are lots of professional roles I could play.” She laid her fork on the table, neatly lining it up with the dinner fork. “You know, Daddy, I heard about that project you invested in. You know, the one in the Upper Peninsula?”

Palmer narrowed his eyes and swirled his drink. “What about it?”

“I didn’t realize how enormous the project is.”

“What’d you hear?”

“It’s running into some trouble with environmental issues. Which is exactly what I’m talking about. My job would be to explain the project’s positions to the public. To pave the way for better understanding. Maybe you could put in a good word for me. I’d love to get an entry position on their team.”

Palmer scowled as his face colored and shook his head. “They’ve got an army of so-called environmental consultants already, and I don’t know what the hell they’re doing. Wasting our money, from what I can tell. The damn project is still stalled.” He took a long swallow and finished the drink.

“What we need is a damn good lawyer.” He skewered her with a loaded gaze. “Maybe you could go to school for that, huh? We could use a good lawyer in the family.”

“Let Cooper do that.”

A flicker of frustration crossed his face. “I don’t know that he’s got the stuff to be a lawyer.” Her father set his glass on the table and looked around. “Speaking of the devil, where is that boy?”

“He’s upstairs in his room. He’s sick.”

“Sick? Or hungover?”

She shrugged and said nothing.

He looked up as his wife entered the room carrying a platter of roast beef. Their cook, Belinda, followed with a platter of vegetables.

“Julia, do you know our son is lying hungover in his room? Again?”

Julia set the beef in front of Palmer. “He’s just feeling poorly.”

“Uh-huh. For the third time this month.”

“Oh, it’s just graduation. You know boys,” she replied, taking the platter from Belinda and setting it on the table. “They have to sow their wild oats. You did the same at his age. And your daddy before you.” Julia looked pointedly at Linnea. “Look at you, sitting at the table while I serve. Go in the kitchen and fetch the red rice and beans.”

“Yes’m,” Linnea muttered, and rose too quickly, feeling a wave of dizziness sweep over her. She clutched the back of her chair.

“What’s the matter with you?” Palmer asked, concerned. “You sick too? Hell, maybe Cooper isn’t hungover.”

Her mother looked at Linnea with accusation. “I do believe our daughter has the same sickness our son does.”

Palmer looked from Julia to Linnea. “What? Are you hungover?”

“I’m fine,” Linnea replied quickly. “I just got up too fast, is all.”

“Don’t you be lying to your father,” her mother said. “I happen to know you came tiptoeing back into the house in the wee hours of the morning. I hear everything.” She turned to Palmer. “Your darling daughter didn’t come home last night.”

Linnea’s blood chilled as she watched her father’s face pale. She cast a withering look at her mother. Thanks a lot.

Palmer tossed his napkin on the table. “You didn’t come home?” he bellowed. “Where the hell were you?”

Linnea unwittingly took a step back. “I was at Jessica Linton’s,” she said, trying her best not to sound rattled. “She had a party at their beach house. I just stayed over.”

“Were there boys at that party?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Daddy. I’m twenty-two. Of course there were boys. Or men, rather. What’s the big deal? They’re all nice guys I went to high school with. You know most of them. Everyone’s coming home after graduation and we’re all just glad to see each other again.” She looked at her mother. “Darby was there. I spent most of the time talking with him. We had a nice catch-up.”

Her mother’s eyes glittered, and Linnea saw with satisfaction she’d played the right card. That ought to quiet her for a moment, she thought.

Her father didn’t care that it was Darby Middleton of the Middletons. All he heard was there were men at the party.

“And you spent the night.” He said these words in a low, rumbling voice, which she found more frightening than his shouts.

“Not with the boys,” she said lightly to diffuse the tension. “With the girls. After everyone else left, a few of us decided to crash.” She counted off on her fingers: “Jessica, Lane, Delancey, Ashley, and me. It was, you know, like a sleepover.”

Her father seemed placated. “Nice girls . . .” he muttered, picking up his napkin.