Sinfully Delicious

by Amanda M. Lee

  “It’s been known to happen.” He focused on the kitten, who was suddenly wide awake and studying him with contemplative eyes. “As for him, you really should come up with a name.”

  “I was thinking Poop Factory.”

  He snorted. “Keep thinking. I’ll be in touch.”

  Because I wasn’t quite ready for him to go, I grappled for something to say. What I came up with was weak, to say the least. “Have fun on your date. Give Monica my condolences on her eyebrows.”

  He paused in the doorway. “That would require telling her how I spent my day.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. “And you don’t want to do that. Fair enough. I didn’t really mean it anyway. She’s kind of mean. I’m glad her eyebrows are gone.” It wasn’t a nice thing to say, but it was the truth.

  He chuckled. “Have fun at your barbecue. I really wish I could go with you, but ... I can’t.”

  And that was the crux of our problems. He would never be able to open his heart to me again because I’d crushed it the first time around. I couldn’t even decide what I wanted to do with my future, so I would never risk telling him I still harbored feelings for him. I didn’t want to hurt him more than I wanted something good for myself. We were stuck ... and I didn’t see that changing.

  “I’m sure the barbecue will be lovely,” I said after a beat. “I haven’t seen my mother since I’ve been back. I guarantee she’s there, and it won’t be pretty.”

  “Now I’m definitely sorry I’ll miss it.”

  “You just like the mayhem.”

  “I can’t argue with that.”

  I DRESSED IN CAPRI PANTS and a black blouse for the family barbecue. I was officially down to my last pair of clean pants, which meant a trip to the laundromat was in my future. Even though Grandpa had graciously offered the use of his machines, that would mean hanging out around his house, and the thought of that made me distinctly uncomfortable given my conversation with my grandmother earlier in the day.

  The driveway was already full, so I parked on the side of the road. I could hear the younger kids in the family — the small people my cousins had already popped out — squealing and having a good time in the side yard. My grandparents went all out when it came to entertainment. They had an in-ground pool, an old-school trampoline that didn’t boast those sissy nets to keep kids safe (I mean, really, the only reason to be on a trampoline is so you can bounce someone else off it), and a full tennis court that nobody but my grandmother used. Even though we were all raised with the opportunity, there wasn’t one of us who became good at the sport.

  I let myself in through the laundry room door, taking a moment to collect myself before coming face to face with my mother. It wasn’t that she was a bad person — she had good qualities — but she was always in attack mode where I was concerned. Nothing I did was ever good enough. When my book made it on The New York Times bestseller list, her first question was why I didn’t place higher.

  She was simply too much, or “extra” if you will. That’s the word Alice and I had started using to describe our mothers — without risking their wrath — when they were both feeling territorial. Just for the record, they always feel territorial.

  “Are you hiding out here?” David asked when he happened upon me a few minutes later. He looked amused rather than worried.

  I shrugged. “I was just ... thinking.”

  “About whether or not it would be smarter to flee and risk running into your mother another day?”

  He knew me too well. We’d grown up together. He could read me better than most. “What do you think she’ll do if I take off?” I was genuinely curious about what his answer would be.

  “Nothing good.” His expression was grim. “I believe there will be some cursing ... and then there will be some wine, because there’s always wine. She’ll use the wine to get my mom and Aunt Trina riled up. Then they’ll track you down, no matter where you hide, and embarrass the crap out of you.”

  Yup. That was pretty much what I imagined them doing. “So, I should probably just suck it up and get it over with here.”

  “That’s what I would do. You’ve already been embarrassed a hundred times over in front of the family. What’s one more time?”

  He had a point. Still, I dragged my feet as I followed him into the house. In the kitchen, I was reunited with several aunts and uncles I hadn’t seen since I’d returned. They all greeted me with smiles and hugs, which I gladly returned, and then seemed to watch me with expectant gazes as I moved toward the formal dining room. That’s where my mother reigned.

  “There she is,” Grandma called out when I appeared in the opening between the kitchen sitting area and dining room. “I was starting to wonder if you were going to show up at all. I was going to remind you about the barbecue when you stopped by earlier, but I thought it was unnecessary. Apparently not, huh?”

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. I was on time, which was early given the fact that Brad’s wife had made a habit of running more than an hour late since she’d been introduced to the family. Nobody gave her grief. Apparently I was the only lucky one on that front.

  “I’ve been here for a little bit,” I argued, trying to keep my temper in check. “I was talking to people in the kitchen.”

  “Yes, well ... .” Grandma trailed off, her eyes shrewd as she glanced between my mother and me. “Aren’t you going to say hello to your mother?” she asked finally.

  Now I had no choice. I’d been considering sitting at the opposite end of the table and forcing her to say something to me first. Grandma had taken that option out of my hands ... and I wasn’t happy about it.

  “Hello, Mother,” I said darkly, my eyes finally seeking — and finding — hers. “How are you?”

  There was a catch in her chest as she regarded me and I braced myself for an onslaught of passive-aggressive statements. Instead, she sucked in three steadying breaths and flashed a smile that was faker than Grandma’s bottle-blond hair. “Hello, Stormy. It’s so good to see you.” She didn’t get up and offer a hug, for which I was thankful.

  “It’s good to see you, too.” I sat in a chair that was far from her reach should she decide to wrap her hands around my neck. She was playing a game — probably because Grandma had warned her about acting out — and she expected me to be the first to crumble. That wasn’t going to happen this time. I was older now, wiser. I had infinite patience.

  Okay, the only part of that statement that was true is the older part. I felt like an idiot and snakes writhed in my stomach. She would definitely win whatever game she was playing. The only option I had was putting up a valiant fight.

  “How is the apartment?” Mom’s tone was clipped. “I wanted to come and help you set it up, but I never received an invitation.”

  Like that had ever stopped her before. “It’s fine.” I matched her tone, going for a breezy demeanor that I knew would drive her around the bend. “I don’t own anything, so there’s really nothing I need help with.”

  “That’s not true,” Grandpa countered, shuffling into the room. He was dressed in bright red shorts, a pale-yellow polo shirt, and a black belt. When I glanced at his feet, I found he was wearing black socks and a pair of Crocs. Yup. His outfit matched the chaos in his brain. “Hunter was over measuring for blinds. It sounds like you’re going to do some decorating.”

  Well, that was a thorny subject ... and not just because Hunter was the last person I wanted to talk about. I couldn’t very well admit to feeling as if someone was watching me. It would turn into a thing, and my mother might well insist that I move in with her as a precautionary measure until Roy’s killer was caught. I’d rather live in my car than share a roof with my mother.

  “He was just helping because I think blinds are a good idea if Grandpa is going to keep using my apartment for his afternoon bathroom breaks,” I replied coolly. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Yeah, that’s not what was going on.” Grandpa shook the side of my chair and raised an ey
ebrow, an unspoken message being sent.

  I scowled as I got up from his chair — he had a regular stool in the restaurant and two regular chairs in his own house. Nobody was allowed to usurp his territory. I moved to the spot to his left. “You could’ve just asked,” I grumbled. “Or, I don’t know, you could’ve sat in a different chair.”

  “No, I couldn’t.” He was blasé as he shifted his eyes between my mother and me. It was obvious he was trying to read the temperature of the room. “You and Hunter seemed to be getting along — other than that pushing and shoving thing you were doing of course — so I’m surprised he didn’t come to the barbecue with you.”

  He was just talking to hear himself talk now. He wanted my mother to be aware that Hunter and I had been spending time together so she could have something fresh to complain about. She was never happy when we took off for the woods for hours as teenagers.

  “He was just helping me,” I repeated. “It’s not a big deal. We’re ... friends.”

  “Friends?” Mom’s perfectly manicured eyebrow arched. “I don’t remember you two ever being friends. I remember lots of groping and pawing and wistful looks that made me want to vomit.”

  Ah, yes, there she was. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop being herself. “Well, we’re just friends now. I don’t know what you want me to say. I needed help measuring for blinds and he volunteered.” That sounded plausible, right?

  “And what about his girlfriend?” Mom asked. “Is she all right with him helping you?”

  I avoided eye contact and reached for the coffee carafe. “I don’t see why she would be upset. It’s not as if anything is going on.”

  “Yet,” Grandpa clarified. “Nothing is going on yet. It’s only a matter of time. I’m hopeful the boy isn’t stupid and ends things with the whiny girl before giving in to his baser urges with you. That would be the polite thing to do.”

  The conversation was quickly spiraling out of control. “Let’s talk about something else,” I suggested, glancing around the table. “Like Dad. Where is he?” Seeing my father right now would be a blessing. He always stood up for me when Mom got her panties in a bunch.

  “Your father is on a sales trip and won’t be back until next week. He sends his regards.”

  Well, crap. There went that idea. “And everyone else?” I glanced around, hopeful something — I would take anything at this point — would steal the spotlight currently fixed on me.

  “Everyone who is coming is already here,” Grandma replied. “Your grandfather will start barbecuing in a few minutes, right, Charles?”

  Grandpa absently nodded. “Sure. Sure.” The man was a great cook but a terrible griller. His steaks were always burnt on the outside and raw on the inside. Even ruined steak would be better than this conversation, though.

  “I can help,” I offered.

  He shook his head. “Oh, no. You should catch up with your mother. It’s been a long time since the two of you were together.”

  Not long enough. I just knew she would start grilling me about my writing plans. She wanted me to succeed more than anyone else because then she had bragging rights over her sisters about which of them had raised the most successful child. She had that title sewn up for years ... until things fell apart and I failed her. Now I was no different from anybody else, and she took it as a personal affront.

  “Yes, Stormy and I will spend hours catching up,” Mom agreed, her smile more evil than welcoming. “For starters, I thought we would discuss why she was questioning Mom about Grandma’s witch history ... and then we’ll turn things to Hunter and her plans for getting back on her feet financially. I think, between those three topics, we should be able to eat up a few hours.”

  My stomach twisted and I wished I would’ve risked running. How could the outcome have been any worse?

  “How does that sound?” Mom asked brightly.

  Like my worst nightmare. “It sounds great,” I lied, flicking my accusatory eyes to Grandma. She’d ratted me out. I would have to pay her back somehow. “All those topics sound amazing. I can’t wait to talk about them.”

  I was still playing the game. It was all I had left.

  22

  Twenty-Two

  “That was fun, huh?”

  Alice appeared at the end of the driveway and gave me a sidelong look as I collected myself for the drive back to the restaurant three hours later. I thought I was safe to have a private moment out in the open.

  Apparently I was wrong.

  “Every meal spent with our family is a true joy,” I drawled, fumbling for my keys.

  “You know she did it on purpose, right?”

  “Who?”

  “Your mother. She’s trying to teach you a lesson.”

  “Oh, I know she did it on purpose.” I thought back to the dinner, to the ten times she brought up the book, and blew out a sigh. “Grandpa says she doesn’t understand what happened and that’s why she keeps doing it.”

  “I don’t think any of us truly understand what happened.” Alice’s voice was softer than usual. She was trying to console me, though that was well out of the realm of possibility at this point. “Maybe you should sit us all down and explain it.”

  That sounded like pure torture. “Or maybe I’ll just go back to my job as a waitress and muddle through until the rest of you realize that you can’t control my life. How does that sound?”

  “As if you’re crabby.” Alice smiled. “I don’t blame you. That dinner was ... brutal. She really doesn’t realize what she’s doing. In her mind, you’re throwing away something great and she can’t get behind that.”

  “I’m not throwing it away. They threw me away.”

  “I get that, but I don’t quite understand why after that first book.”

  “You’re only as good as your most recent book My first book did well. My second book bombed. You don’t get a second chance after a bomb like that.”

  “But ... I thought you were supposed to write three books for them. That’s what you said.”

  “They cancelled the contract for the third book after losing so much money on the second.”

  “How can they do that if you have a contract?”

  “They just can.” I stared at the bush across the street for a long time, lost in thought. Finally, I shook my head and returned to the here and now. “It’s not my job to hold her hand through this. I’m doing the best I can. I can’t bolster her and myself at the same time.”

  Alice pursed her lips and nodded. She was oddly pragmatic at times and she had that look about her now. “I think the true problem is that she’s worried about you and Hunter. If you two get together again, I don’t think anything will drag you apart. That means you’ll never have another shot at a hit book.”

  A sudden rush of anger coursed through. “Really? Hunter again?”

  “You spent the afternoon with him. People say you were together at Deadman’s Hill.”

  I was stunned. “How can anyone know that? We were alone.”

  “Ha!” Alice jabbed out her finger and did a hip-wiggling dance that made me want to kick her into a bush. “I knew it! When I couldn’t find you at the restaurant I figured you were off somewhere with Hunter. I played a hunch and said Deadman’s Hill because you guys used to hang out there.” She pumped her fist and looked to the sky. “I’ve still got it.”

  I faltered, unsure how to proceed. “You were just guessing?” I asked.

  She nodded and grinned. “Don’t worry about it. I promise not to tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

  Alice had a price when it came to information. I had no doubt she would dangle it over the head of anyone she thought would pay ... and right now the only person who might be interested was my mother. If she thought she was fooling me, she was sadly mistaken.

  “Don’t tell my mother.” I was firm.

  Alice adopted an air of innocence. “Would I do that?”

  Oh, she would definitely do that. I knew she would be scamperin
g inside to do just that the moment I left. The notion made me tired. “You know what? Do whatever you want. I’m exhausted. You think this is all a game, but it’s my life. You guys wonder why I was so anxious to get out of here. This is why. Stuff like this.”

  Alice looked taken aback. “There’s no reason to be such a baby.”

  “No? I just want five minutes of peace, Alice. I’ll never get that here.” I stormed around the front of the car and tugged on the door, my mind going to the afternoon in the woods with Hunter. I’d been at peace then — well, except for the way my lips wanted to throw a party whenever he was close — but that was the only time my mind had been quiet since I’d returned to Shadow Hills.

  “I think you’re overreacting,” Alice said as I slid into the driver’s seat. “This is just the way family is. We’re all up in each other’s business.”

  “I’m sick of it. I just want a little quiet ... and privacy ... and contentment. At my age, that shouldn’t be too much to ask.” I slammed the door before she could answer and brought the car to life.

  What she had to add didn’t matter. She was right. This was the nature of family. It was also the main reason I’d run. I had no choice but to put up with it now, but what would be the ultimate price?

  I SPENT THE NEXT TWO HOURS on the couch in my living room playing with the kitten. I’d spent a small fortune on items for him, and as I stared at my banking app, old reruns of Friends playing in the background, I knew I was in real trouble.

  “You’re very cute, but expensive,” I said to the kitten as I scratched behind his ear.

  For his part, he didn’t look bothered by the statement. He had a pink feather stuck in his fur from one of the toys and I had no doubt he’d been having a grand time playing while I was at the barbecue.

  “I should’ve stayed home with you,” I muttered as the kitten kneaded his claws on my lap. He looked intelligent, as if he understood every word I said. “Or maybe I should just run now,” I murmured. “I could take off tonight, find a job somewhere in the state, and not tell anyone where I’m going. At least then it would be quiet.”