Fleur De Lies(62)

            Cal skewered his dad with a sour look. “Always pushing the envelope, aren’t you?”

            “Someone has to. Leaving the marketing decisions to you will probably throw us into bankruptcy.”

            BONGbongbongBONGBONGbongbongbongBONG … BONG …

            “I’m not going to use a human disaster of this magnitude to fatten our pockets,” Cal shouted over the symphony of ringing bells. “Using this place for your personal advertising is not only crass and in bad taste, it’s sacrilegious! So if you want pictures, get Walt or Ed to take them.” He shot a curious look around the courtyard. “Where are they anyway?”

            A hint of alarm flickered in Woody’s eyes before he brushed off the question. “None of your business where they are.”

            “Did they stay on the boat?”

            “Last I knew, you weren’t their keeper, so they can damn well do what they want to do.”

            “What are you trying to hide? They must be doing something you don’t want me to know about, else you wouldn’t have a problem …” Cal narrowed his eyes with sudden perception. “You arranged something, didn’t you?”

            Woody hardened his jaw and stuck out his bottom lip. “What’s it to you?”

            “Did you con the purser into letting Walt and Ed give some kind of powerpoint presentation about pre-packaged funeral plans? There were a whole bunch of learning sessions being offered on the boat today. Did you manage to weasel your way onto the schedule?”

            Woody’s face turned florid, his voice acerbic. “We all make mistakes in life, Cal. Apparently my biggest was bringing you into the business. I should have recruited your sister instead. She gets it, which is more than I can say for you.”

            “You want to can me, Dad? Go ahead. Turn my share of the business over to Jody. I’ll give you a month before you come crawling back to me with your tail between your legs.”

            “Don’t hold your breath.”

            Cal snorted derisively. “If that’s supposed to scare me, it doesn’t.”

            “It should.” Woody hitched up his belt and fixed Cal with a sharp look. “I own you, son. You’re just too dumb to realize it. Remember, wills can be changed.”

            “Go ahead,” Cal spat. “I dare you.”

            “Is Madeleine trying to round us up?” I asked in an attempt to redirect their attention. “Looks like she’s counting heads. Shall we join the crowd?”

            “Why not?” quipped Woody. “The damage here is already done.” He caught my eye. “Sorry you had to witness that little scene, Emily. What can I say? My son spends a lot of time acting like the hind end of a horse.”

            He strutted off to join the crowd as light rain began drizzling down on us again. I opened my umbrella and, not knowing what else to say, let fly the first thing that came into my head. “Your sister’s name is Jody Jolly?”

            Cal laughed despite his obvious irritation. “Yah. She’s never forgiven them for that particular act of sadism.”

            “She’s not part of the family business?”

            “Nope. She had no intention of spending her life living under Dad’s thumb, so she got out while the going was good. Studied languages in college and became a translator at the UN. She doesn’t get home much, so I don’t see her too often. Dad’s temper isn’t a big drawing card, and the older he gets, the less control he seems to have over it.”

            “He’d never actually get angry enough to make good on his threat, would he? I mean, I’ve eaten a couple of meals with him. I’ve seen him in action. He’s more bark than bite. Isn’t he?”