by Lori Foster
“Thank you,” she whispered as she pulled back.
He nodded. “It’s what friends do. Remember that, okay?” With one last reassuring look, he headed off for Jack.
Grateful, so very, very grateful, Joy got her feet moving and walked, as gracefully and unhurried as she could manage, into Summer’s End.
Maris caught her eye the second she entered. She, too, wore a false smile. “There you are.” Circling out from behind the counter, she said, “Your mother has come to visit.”
Joy nodded, not yet looking in that direction. Unable to make herself do it.
“Coffee? A cola?” Maris got closer and whispered, “What can I do?”
How? Joy wondered. How did these amazing people know this was difficult for her? Was it intuition, her mother’s cold persona or did they simply know her well enough, despite her lack of sharing in the past, to see it for what it was?
Honestly, the tension in the air was as thick as soup.
Maybe it was just that hard to miss.
“A cola,” she said to Maris, meeting her eyes and managing a wan smile to let her know it was okay. “Thank you.”
“You bet.” Maris’s long ponytail bounced as she headed off to get the drink.
Girding herself, Joy turned and there in a booth was her mother. The set of Cara Vivien Reed’s mouth showed her disdain. Back ramrod straight, she sat slightly forward as if afraid that resting against the plastic seat might somehow infest her. She looked the same as she had so long ago, the same disapproving manner and impeccable appearance. She’d be sixty now, but she hadn’t aged a day.
That was a perk of the wealthy: the best dieticians and cooks, yoga instructors, personal cosmetologists and stylists to provide an ever youthful appearance.
The one thing that had changed? Her mother looked...tired. It only showed a little, but Joy saw it just the same.
Standing in the aisle, just behind Cara’s shoulder, was a suited man who likely served as driver and bodyguard. He was new to Joy, yet the position was familiar. Her mother had always traveled with security.
So pretentious.
Never in her entire life had Joy known her mother to actually need protection. So much of what she did was for effect, from the house with more rooms than they could ever use, to the designer clothing that didn’t look at all comfortable and the jewelry specifically created for her, to the fake friends she chose and the family she...thrust aside.
A fatherless grandson, regardless of how passé that thinking might be, didn’t fit the illusion of perfection through privileged wealth.
Feeling contrary, Joy smiled at the driver and asked, “Would you like something to drink? Maris makes the best coffee ever. Or a cola?”
Startled that she would speak to him, the man shifted his alert stance. “No, ma’am. Thank you.”
Ignoring that, Joy turned and said to Maris, “Another cola, okay? It had to have been a long drive to get here. Just put it on my tab.”
Her mother tipped her chin. “Are you deliberately wasting my time?”
Joy replied, “Yes?” and then accepted two drinks from Maris.
“Mrs. Reed,” Maris said with absurd deference, “are you sure you wouldn’t like something?”
She eyed the plain glass and plastic straw. “No, thank you.”
To Joy, Maris whispered darkly, “Maybe I should go get one of the guys?”
“I’m fine, I’m promise. This is nothing new.” She hesitated, then admitted, “I’m glad you’re here, though. That’s enough.”
With a crooked smirk, Maris said, “It’s my place. I’m always here, and just so you know, I’ve thrown out bigger guys than that dude.”
Joy chuckled at the visual that leaped to mind. “I believe it.”
“You, however, would have to tangle with your mother.” Leaning in closer, Maris whispered, “I’m not getting anywhere near that one.”
Understanding that sentiment only too well, Joy nodded. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Maris winked and headed back to the counter, which meant Joy couldn’t stall any longer. Drawing a breath, she approached the booth, again without haste, and handed the cola to the driver. He had no choice except to take it, his gaze skirting down to her mother.
Cara gave him a small nod and dismissed him.
How had she ever belonged to that world? Joy shook her head with a small laugh and took the liberty of sitting across from her mother. Elbows on the table, her chin in her hands, she said, “You’ve caught me at a bad time. I have an appointment in just a few minutes.” An appointment with a big, gorgeous, kind man who will hopefully take me to bed today. “Is there a reason you’ve called?”
“Your grandmother Reed passed away.”
Shock swept away Joy’s feigned indifference. She searched her mother’s stern expression. “You’re serious?”
“Your father’s mother. And of course I’m serious. It’s hardly a joking matter.”
Grams. Throat going tight, Joy thought of the bold, irreverent and sometimes silly grandma she’d adored. Not long after she’d gotten pregnant with Jack, Grams had suffered a severe stroke and it changed everything. Joy had still visited her, but it wasn’t easy, not with nurses always around her and the acrimony in her family. Grams was just as smart, just as caring, but she had so much difficulty expressing herself that visits almost seemed to frustrate her. After her family disowned her... Joy never went back.
Oh, she’d wanted to. She’d thought about her grandmother many times, but she’d been too busy surviving, too determined to find a way to support herself and her baby. Too busy putting distance between herself and her mother.
Suddenly those excuses didn’t suffice.
Guilt was a terrible thing, but Joy swallowed it back, determined not to let her mother see her pain. “When?”
“A few months ago.”
Her mouth nearly dropped open. Months? And no one had cared enough to tell her? That said a lot. Too much, really—none of it a surprise.
As if her mother had read her mind, she gave a slight, defensive shrug. “Since you walked away from your family, I wouldn’t be here now except that it appears your grandmother left you an inheritance.”
Joy reacted to the first part of that statement with a gasp of outrage. “You told me to leave. You said I wasn’t your daughter anymore.”
“Well, you didn’t exactly fight to stay, did you?”
Of all the... Had her mother wanted her to beg? Why would she bother when she knew her mother so well? Cara Reed never retreated.
Arching one carefully drawn brow in censure, her mother pushed a crisp business card forward. “There are papers to sign, of course. You need to meet us at the attorney’s office Monday morning. The date and time are noted, as a reminder.”
Staring at the linen card without touching it, Joy’s thoughts scrambled. Jack had school on Monday. Any attorney her grandmother used would be at least two hours from here, closer to where her parents lived.
They’d have to reschedule.
However, she’d discuss that with the lawyer, not her mother. The real dilemma was figuring out what timing would work for her. She’d need the better part of the day just for traveling back and forth. And if the meeting took too long? She wouldn’t be back in time to get Jack. Yet taking Jack with her was not an option.
She didn’t know how she’d work it out, but she wasn’t about to share the difficulty of her circumstances with her mother. Even now, after delivering that awful news, she knew Cara watched her for signs of weakness.
“Have your...circumstances changed?”
Stumped by the abrupt question, Joy lifted her gaze to her mother. Her circumstances seemed pretty clear. After all, her mother had found where she lived. “What do you mean?”
Brows beetling, Cara clarified, “The child.”
>
Dear God. Her mother didn’t even know that she’d birthed a son—her grandson. Yet she thought...what? That Joy had at some point changed her mind about having him? That she’d left her family and everything familiar just to be difficult?
No, she’d done that for Jack, and she’d do it all again in a heartbeat.
“If you count being a mother a change of circumstances, then yes.”
Her mother sucked in a breath, her expression unreadable.
“You knew that’s what I always intended.” Joy’s hands tightened of their own accord, now fisted on the booth top. How dare her mother come here and disrupt her peace? Rage pressed against her composure. Resentment boiled up, churning with hurt.
And then Joy felt it, felt him, and she shifted in her seat to see the door.
Royce stood there, taking up a lot of space, his direct gaze calmly evaluating the situation.
Joy saw the moment he made up his mind. The intent showed clearly in his dark shark eyes, in his purposeful stride as he came to her.
Was this good or bad?
She frantically tried to decide. Yes, his presence helped to order her emotions, but as Joy hurriedly stood to greet him, she badly wished him away from the venom her mother would spew.
“Royce,” she said, trying to keep her tone light despite her anxiety. “I can join you in just a—”
“Who,” her mother’s sharp voice demanded, “is this?”
Joy closed her eyes. She wasn’t in time. Keeping her back to her mother, she tried to think. “No,” she whispered, telling herself not to engage.
Undeterred, her mother stood, too. “Is this the man you allowed to use you? The one who ruined your life?” Each question cut a little deeper. “The one who left you saddled with a—”
Whirling to face her, Joy snapped, “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.” Nostrils burning with her fast breaths, her eyes glazing with furious tears, she pointed at her mother. Her hand shook as scalding rage burned through her.
She would not allow anyone to insult her son.
Joy had gladly stayed away from all of them to protect Jack. To insulate him from their poison. She would not tolerate her mother showing up so many years later with the same hateful agenda.
Royce moved closer. She felt the heat of his body along her back. Not a bodyguard, certainly.
But something so much better.
Royce offered silent support, and the generous gesture meant the world to her.
Drawing a slow breath, Joy lowered her arm...and lifted her chin. “No one ruined my life. To the contrary, I love the life I have now.”
“So.” Her mother breathed harder, too, her narrowed gaze going over Royce. “Is he the father, or just another mistake about to happen?”
Royce shifted—and released a short, soft laugh of pure amusement.
Laughing? He was laughing at her mother’s taunt?
True, it was absurd, but...he wasn’t insulted?
He laughed again, more a snicker that he couldn’t control, and that somehow zapped the tension from Joy’s body.
Somewhere behind her, Joy heard Maris’s not-so-subtle “Ha!” and suddenly everything was easier.
She could relax her shoulders. She could draw a deep, smooth breath.
These fun, quirky, supportive people were in her life. People who accepted her, faults and all, instead of judging her.
Blinking back tears of appreciation, Joy picked up the card from the tabletop. While her mother glared, she said, “Thank you for bringing this to me. I’ll get in touch with the attorney.”
The dismissal hung there in the air.
There’d been no polite greeting for her. No introductions to her friends. Joy wasn’t about to gift Cara with a nice farewell.
Her mother left no room for anything nice.
Like a bad actor in an absurd performance, Cara overplayed her lines, ruining the impact of the delivery. Now if Joy could just get her away from the park before she met Jack, the visit could be chalked up as a blip in her otherwise wonderful day.
Not really tragic.
Not too devastating.
It felt good to know she’d grown beyond her mother’s realm.
After grabbing her clutch purse, her mother glanced around the room. “This is exactly what I warned you about. I told you this is where you’d end up, but you didn’t listen.” Her attention went over Joy, and she shook her head. “I should have known better than to think you’d changed.”
With a gentle smile, Joy said, “I certainly knew you hadn’t.”
The dig hit home, and Cara reacted as if she’d been slapped. For only a single heartbeat, Joy saw hurt in her eyes.
Then, with a lot of indignant fanfare, her mother departed, the poor bodyguard hurrying ahead to lead the way as if he feared some heinous danger lurked between the camp store and the lakeshore.
No, the only thing out there was...
Crap. Joy pushed past Royce and rushed to ensure her son wasn’t anywhere near. She wouldn’t allow her mother to see him, to possibly slight him in some way.
She paused in the doorway, frantically searching, but she didn’t see Jack anywhere.
Royce put his hand to her back. “Daron took him over to the scuba shack with Chaos. They’re playing.”
Ah, so Daron had known there was trouble and he’d been a true friend by removing her son from the scene. Relief and gratitude made her knees weak.
Suddenly depleted, Joy dropped a shoulder against the door frame and released an exhausted breath. “She still knows how to suck the oxygen out of a room.”
His hand smoothed up and down her spine. “You held your own.”
Barely, and now of course Royce would want an explanation.
An explanation beyond what he’d just witnessed.
What could she say? That after nearly six years of separation, her mother wanted to reinforce her disappointment in her only daughter? Clearly, she could have called. She could have sent someone else to give her the news of her grandmother’s passing.
But no, then she would have lost the opportunity to spit her scorn one more time.
Joy felt...not disappointment. That had died a few years back. But embarrassment? Yes, she felt that in spades.
Most people had normal families that were a little quirky sometimes. They had a member or two with eccentricities, a relative who tended to say the wrong thing, another who arrived late to every event.
Hers was more in the range of abnormally detached, superficial and spiteful.
Trying to push through her humiliation, Joy spun to face Royce. The concern in his dark eyes tested her resolve. It invited her to confide in him, lean on him.
But that would be a breach of their agreement.
Companionship, with hopefully some side benefits of a sexual nature. That’s what they each wanted. Despite the scene he’d happened into, emotional support wasn’t part of the deal. He was not her rock.
And she stood on her own now, damn it.
“Well.” Shoulders back and a painful smile in place, Joy asked, “I hope you’re not in a hurry. I need to talk to Jack before we go—” she badly needed to hug him “—but I’ll only be a minute.”
With his gaze unnervingly intense, Royce searched her face. “You’re okay?”
“Of course.” She tried a carefree laugh, and succeeded more than otherwise. “That nonsense with my mother is nothing new, believe me. It’s fine.” I’m fine.
“Joy,” he said in soft exasperation, as if he knew she lied not only to him but herself, as well.
“Really, Royce. It’s nothing at all—”
He bent and touched his mouth to hers in the sweetest, least demanding kiss ever. His warm lips lightly caressed, reassured. Lingered, but only for a moment, lasting just long enough to silence her. Still very cl
ose, his tone rough but gentle, he asked, “That was your mother, right?”
Unfortunately. “Yes.”
With a hand cupped to her neck, he stroked his thumb over the line of her jaw. “She thought I might be Jack’s father?”
“She was fishing. Or maybe she just wanted to be nasty and found an excuse.” Joy shrugged to show that it didn’t matter. “I hope you weren’t offended.”
“It caught me off guard.” His fingers tunneled into her hair at the back of her head in a brief massage. “Sorry I laughed.”
“Don’t be. I’m not.” His amusement had saved her from escalating the scene. “It was exactly the right response to her nonsense.”
His touch and tone gentled even more. “I thought your mother knew Jack’s father and disapproved of him.”
Joy understood how he’d gotten that impression. “Mother knew of him.” To keep this as short and succinct as possible, Joy said, “Vaughn had a rather colorful reputation and my parents learned of it through their friends. Everyone was scandalized that Joy Reed, the princess of Cara and Wallace Reed, would lower herself to associating with a bartender.” Her mouth twisted. “That was his job when I hooked up with him, but he never kept any job long. My parents were furious when I refused to stop dating him, and doubly so when I married him. They were certain he was only after my money, and in hindsight, that was probably true.”
Royce frowned slightly. “Despite him being their son-in-law, they refused to ever meet him in person?”
Joy shrugged. “We got married at a justice of the peace. The whole relationship was doomed from the beginning. My parents continued to ensure I had money, but they didn’t subsidize anything Vaughn wanted.” Remembering his reaction when she told him no money would be coming for his extravagant indulgences, she huffed a short laugh. “Rightfully so, as it turns out. When Vaughn didn’t have unlimited funds, he tired of me pretty quickly.”
“He sounds like a prick.”
Joy stole her own small kiss this time. “Rest assured, Royce, you’re not like him in any way.”
“I take it you and your mother are still at odds?”
