“You don’t think we have something going on here.”
“Of course I do.”
“What did Tom tell you?”
She looked as if she were about to deny Tom’s duplicity, but then she sighed and said, “Just enough for me to feel safe showing up at the party.”
“Okay.” He smiled. “That’s progress. Now I know I’m not crazy.”
She didn’t return the smile but moved away and drained the rest of her wine. “We’d better go back. The sooner we eat dinner, the sooner we can leave.”
He didn’t like her attitude. Textbook passive-aggressive behavior. “Sorry if I ruined your fun.”
She touched his arm, and when her lips lifted, it was in such a sad smile that he softened. “It was a mistake to bring you here. I’m sorry.”
“Why was it a mistake?”
Her brows lifted in surprise, and then she gave a helpless shrug. “My mother— I have too many issues with her. I think each time I come home it will be different, but it never is.”
“Turn around.”
“Excuse me?”
He took her by the shoulders and prodded her into giving him her back. “You’re tense,” he said as he started massaging the tight muscles around her neck.
“No kidding.”
Eric smiled. “We’ll get you to relax.”
“Good luck.” She sighed and then moaned a little when he worked on a particularly tight knot. “She irritates me just being in the same vicinity. She could be somewhere in the house and I have no idea what she’s doing and she still irritates me.”
He chuckled and kept working. She was tight, all right. Tomorrow he’d treat her to a professional massage. The new Hush Hotel had a couples’ massage that was supposed to be pretty awesome. He’d have to call and see if you needed to be a registered guest to use the service.
“It’s not her fault. In fact, some of it’s mine. I totally get that, in spite of all my childish carrying on.” She laughed softly. “I’m her daughter and she wants what’s best for me. The problem is, what she thinks is best, I don’t.”
“Gee, never heard that one before.”
She hooked her arm around and pinched his waist.
“Hey, no manhandling the masseur.”
“Like you’d be so lucky.”
“Good point.” He hesitated. She was starting to relax, and he didn’t want to stir things up. But he’d have to know sooner or later if modeling was one of the issues that polarized them. Selfishly, later was out. Once back at his place, he didn’t want to ruin the mood by bringing up Horn. “I have a question.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Does your mother object to your modeling?”
“No. But, of course, I really don’t model anymore. But she’s never had a problem with it as long as it’s tasteful. Even Dakota did some modeling for a couple of local stores while she was in college.”
Relief washed over him.
“Now, if either of us had decided we wanted to model and skip college, that would have been a major problem.”
“Understandable. Only a few models make really good money. Unfortunately it isn’t as glamorous as it looks, and their shelf life is shorter than a jar of peanut butter.”
“Amen. That’s why I quit.”
Eric had to tamp down his excitement. None of those problems were attached to Horn’s contract.
She sighed and covered one of his hands with hers. “As wonderful as this has been, I think it’s time to go back.”
“To Manhattan?” he joked.
“I wish. To the lion’s den.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TILLY ANNOUNCED THAT DINNER WAS GOING to be ready in ten minutes. Dallas knew her mother wouldn’t be content to stay out of the final preparations, and when, true to form, she headed for the kitchen, Dallas followed.
She’d actually thought tonight might work out. She’d psyched herself up for two days, telling herself it would be okay to bring Eric. The conversation would remain neutral because she’d received her mother’s reassurance that she’d make nice.
Clair’s presence changed everything. Damn it. It blew all illusion of control.
“Why didn’t you tell me Cody was bringing some one?” she asked as soon as they were in private. Tilly was there, of course, standing at the butcher-block is land, tossing some field greens in a glass bowl, but Dallas trusted her implicitly.
“I’m not sure I knew when you called.” After setting her wineglass on the granite counter, Andrea picked up a fork Tilly had left beside the stove and stuck it in the rib roast. She made a face. “Tilly, are you sure this is done enough? It looks awfully rare.”
Tilly grabbed the fork from her and waved her away. “Go back to your guests and let me handle dinner. The meat is still cooking while it rests. In ten minutes it’ll be just the way you like it.” Tilly winked at Dallas.
They must have had this conversation twenty times in as many years. But Andrea always had to stick her nose in things.
“Dallas, bring out your grandmother’s silver tureen,” her mother said. “I think we’ll serve the consommé from the table instead of bringing it to the dining room in individual bowls.”
“No, we’re not. I have everything set out already.” Tilly looked at Dallas. “Would you please get your mother out of here?”
“Really, Tilly, I’m only trying to help.” Andrea grabbed her drink off the counter and turned to leave in a huff. Amazing how Tilly was the only one who could get away with speaking to her like that. Dallas never could figure it out. Not even her father dared being that high-handed—not overtly, anyway.
“Wait, Mother.”
She stopped and looked impatiently at Dallas.
“I want tonight to go smoothly, okay?” Dallas said slowly, enunciating every word.
“Don’t be absurd.”
“Please, Mother, keep your promise that you won’t manipulate the conversation as a means of attacking my job. Am I clear?”
“Everything isn’t about you. You’re old enough to know that.”
Dallas shook her head. “I wish you understood that. Why you have to keep—” Dallas stopped herself. This wasn’t going anywhere. It never did. “Never mind.”
Her mother blinked, and something changed in her expression. Regret flickered in her eyes. “I know you think I ride you too hard, that I meddle too much. But you’re so damn smart, Dallas, what kind of mother would I be if I let you slide in life?”
“You’re right. I think you push too hard.”
“I probably do. Your father and I have always been proud of all three of you kids. But you were always the brightest, the one with the most potential.”
Dallas stared in disbelief. For years she’d felt like the runt of the litter. The one who’d always disappointed them.
“Someday when you’re a mother maybe you’ll understand.” She touched Dallas’s arm in an uncharacteristic gesture of concern, and Dallas’s defenses began to crumble. “I’m glad to see you brought a decent man with you.”
Just like that, the forgiving mood was shot to hell. “A man who gets his hands dirty making a living can be just as decent.”
Andrea huffed. “You know what I mean. Must you take everything wrong?”
“As long as you keep giving me ammunition.” Dallas exhaled and sheepishly met her mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I really am. I don’t want to argue.”
Andrea looked at her a long, silent moment and then sighed. “Well, as you’ve often pointed out, what you do for a living is your business. I am curious, though, what does Eric think about it?”
Dallas hesitated. The question had taken her aback. She swallowed, tried to come up with a flip remark and couldn’t.
Her mother stared with open curiosity, and then a slow, amused smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “He doesn’t know, does he?”
Dallas stiffened. God, all she wanted to do was leave. Right now. Get back to Manhattan. To Eric’s apartment, where anything seemed possible.
The pity that entered her mother’s eyes was almost more than Dallas could take. “If you’re too embarrassed to tell him,” she said gently, “then, honey, you’ve got a lot to think about.”
DURING DINNER THE CONVERSATION centered mostly on a volatile court case that was in the news but to which none of the Shea legal eagles had any affiliation. Lots of opinions, though. Which made for a lively discussion.
These were the times that Dallas missed. When she was in high school and her friends would come over for dinner, they were always surprised. The expectation was that dinner at the Sheas’ would be a quiet, dignified affair. Rarely was that the case.
Since Dallas had little opinion on the subject and wasn’t about to get into another debate with Cody over justification of the death penalty, she got up to help Tilly with dessert. Deeply involved in the conversation, Eric glanced at her and smiled before returning another of Cody’s volleys. He looked as if he were actually enjoying himself, and even her brother seemed more animated and taking great pleasure in the challenging arguments Eric presented.
This time she didn’t have to ask Dakota to babysit Eric in her absence. Not just because the conversational tide was unlikely to change but because she knew her mother would derail any personal talk of Dallas.