Love Handles (Oakland Hills #1)(76)

“She is fantastic.” Eyes bright, Gail brought her hand to her face and looked up at the ceiling. Sighing, she glanced at Bev. “Everything has changed. I told Kate all about it. Johnny’s going to be a father—not married yet, but Ellen will take care of that.” She smiled at Trixie. “Johnny is my nephew, Ellen’s son. Bev, there is so much for us to talk about. You were right about so many things.”

Bev was finding it difficult to swallow her mouthful of lettuce. “I was?”

“Ellen told me how you refused to leave the company to her unless we reunited as a family. She flew to L.A. just to tell me that. At first she just wanted me to get you back home, but then we got to talking and laughing and crying—” Gail glanced at Trixie again and rolled her eyes, “and then it was like we were fifteen again. Which is why I've come up now to let you off the hook.” She glanced at Liam. “Both of you. Do you have any sisters, Trixie?”

“I’m afraid not,” Trixie said.

A swirling, sinking whirlpool of dread formed in Bev's stomach. “I am not on a hook. And that’s not what I told—”

Gail put down her wine glass with a thump and caught Trixie’s eye. “Ever since she was little, Bev wanted a different family. I think it’s why she chose to work with children.” She returned her gaze to Bev. “With me and Ellen here, you can go back to where you belong with a clear conscience.”

Not now, Bev thought, shoving a forkful of lasagna into her mouth, frantically trying to think of how to extract herself and her mother from the table.

But Gail went on. “Now, Kate—Fite would be perfect for you. You're at a perfect point to start a new career.” She slipped the fork into her mouth and shook her head. “My, this is delicious.”

“I belong here,” Bev said. “At Fite. Here. All of it.”

“Really, Bev,” her mother replied.

Teeth clenched, Bev looked around the table at the curious faces hanging on the exchange. Mark seemed unhappy and confused. Trixie was busy keeping the plates moving around the table, trying to communicate something to Liam, who had stopped pretending to eat and sat with both arms crossed over his chest.

“Leave me out of it,” Kate said. “I've decided to work with dogs.”

Gail reached over and squeezed her hand. “But you could do both. Oh—I've got it! Fite doesn't have a pet line yet, does it?”

“No, and there never will be,” Liam said.

Gail turned and gave him an icy stare. “That’s up to the owners to decide.”

“No, it’s up to the market,” he said. “Dog clothes would ruin us.”

“Management is going to have to think outside the box for a change,” Gail said.

“Management is going to do a lot of things, none of them involving domesticated animals.”

Kate tapped Bev on the shoulder. “By the way, I think Ball might be sick. Right before I came over here I noticed her spitting up her dinner.”

Torn between concern for her elderly cat and the hostilities unfolding at the table, Bev nodded at her sister and tried to catch her mother’s eye.

Gail was too busy staring at Liam to notice. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want all your hard work to go to waste. That kind of old thinking has led the company into bankruptcy.” Then she seemed to remember where she was, turning to Trixie with an apologetic smile. “So sorry to talk business. I’m sure we can continue this conversation at the office on Monday.”

Bev’s hands closed into fists. “At the office?”

“And who is Ball, honey?” Trixie asked, passing the green beans. “Some kind of pet?”

“My cat,” Bev said, the whirlpool in her stomach churning faster. Her mother wanted to get involved with Fite. With Ellen. And swap Bev for Kate. But worse, her mother was insulting Liam and his work at Fite, a company she had loathed and avoided her entire life—in front of his own family.

Liam. He was arrogant and difficult and pig-headed and domineering, but—

She stood up so quickly the chair tipped over and clattered against the sideboard. Everyone, even the little dog, turned their heads to stare. “Leave Liam alone. He's the best thing Fite's got.”

Trixie’s eyes got wide, watching her. Then slowly she reached for the pepper grinder. “Liam, do go get us another bottle of the Shiraz. We've run dry.”

“And while I'm glad you're talking to Ellen,” Bev went on, eyes fixed on her mother, “know that I'll do everything in my power to see to it she never sets foot at Fite again. We’ve just started to clean up the mess she left behind. And have you forgotten why Kate had to drive up here? I didn't sleep for two days after she broke into the house—”

“Really, Bev!” Gail gaped at her, not used to having Bev ever argue with her, let alone at a dinner table with strangers. “Sit down.”

Liam caught Bev's gaze and held it, an intense look in his eyes she couldn’t read. She wished she could touch him, have him touch her, make everyone else go away.

“Come help me pick out the wine.” He pushed back his chair and stood up.

“You’d better take Norma back with you.” Trixie pointed a finger at the handful of fur in Kate's lap. “Sorry, honey. People food gives her a rash.”