Just One Taste...(33)

"What do you know about the Switzer will?"

A bit surprised Douglas had thrown in all his cards at once, Lucas stared at the blue-spotlighted pool. "More than I should."

"What?"

"I know about Candy, about her heroic CPR effort. I know about cover-ups  and bribes. I know Anthony shouldn't have blabbed. I know there are two  wills."                       
       
           



       

"Dear God."

"He may be your last resort."

"Who are you going to tell? What are you going to say?"

"No one. Nothing."

"You don't expect me to believe that."

"Did you honestly think I, of all people, was going to run to the bar crying foul?"

"I wouldn't put anything past you."

"A sensible plan." But then he was keeping quiet for Vanessa and Mrs.  Switzer, not out of any need to punish Douglas. "Especially since  there's a catch to my silence."

Douglas crossed his arms over his chest. "What? My business contacts? Introduction to my club?"

Lucas resisted the urge to laugh. "I want you to support your daughter."

Clearly confused, he angled his head. "Support her? You mean  financially? For your information, Vanessa cut herself off from her  family on her own, and I-"

"She doesn't want your money. She wants your support-of her life, her  business, her emotional needs. I want you to tell your friends to hire  her catering service. I want your office to order pies and pastries for  meetings. I want your foundation to sing praises of her culinary  abilities and professionalism. And, most of all, I want you to be nice."

"You're joking."

"I know it's a stretch, but I want it done."

"I can't believe you're dragging Vanessa into this."

"I'm simply asking you for a favor. You knew I'd want something for my silence. This is it."

"It's blackmail."

"It's not an unreasonable request, counselor."

"I don't want you anywhere near my daughter."

"Too bad."

Of course, it wasn't the request so much as the person asking it. Was Douglas's pride really worth his reputation?

"It's blackmail," he repeated, his face flushed bright red.

Lucas shrugged.

"Fine," he said finally, furiously, storming away.

Lucas stood by the pool for several minutes. He briefly wondered if he'd  done the right thing. He supposed he could have been magnanimous and  told Douglas he'd say nothing and ask for nothing in return.

When Douglas calmed down, he'd realize Lucas had done him a favor. He  didn't have to wonder when Lucas would suddenly decide to demand a price  for his silence.

If she ever learned what he'd done, Vanessa probably wouldn't appreciate  his interference. But then he was only nudging father and daughter  together. Maintaining their relationship would be up to them. In the  meantime, would Lucas regret this risk to renew her bond with her  family? Would Douglas convince his daughter that Lucas wasn't good  enough for her?

Dear heaven, he hoped not.

Before he left the party-he doubted he'd be welcome any longer-he  stopped by the kitchen where Vanessa was standing at the center island  arranging toast points piled with caviar on a silver tray.

"What were you and my father talking about? It looked pretty intense."

"Just business."

"Surely you're not going to tell me this is one of those attorney-client discretion things?"

"As a matter of fact … " He rounded the island and slid one arm around her waist. "I just stopped by to tell you I'm leaving."

"Already?"

"I think your father and I have done enough bonding for one night."

She looped her arms around his neck. "Bonding?"

He kissed her briefly, then backed up, breaking their physical  connection. He was too susceptible to those seductive blue eyes. "It's  not something I can talk about. You're coming by later?"

"I'll even bring leftovers."

"Just remember I get you for dessert."



FOR THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, Vanessa was surprised to find business booming.  Her mother's fund-raiser and her father's cocktail party seemed to have  been some kind of parental test, which she must have passed.

She was booked for garden-club luncheons, partnership dinners, birthday  and retirement parties, even wedding receptions. Most of the new clients  could be traced back either to her parents or Lucas. It was kind of  bizarre actually, but she wasn't about to complain. Could the  understanding and healing she'd wanted for so long finally be in sight?                       
       
           



       

Late in the afternoon on a Thursday, she was in the bakery's  workroom-where she'd spent a lot of time recently-finishing the  preparations for a corporate breakfast meeting the next morning, as well  as two lunch meetings.

"Wow, these are terrific."

Vanessa looked up to see her sister, enjoying a blueberry muffin, walk  through the swinging door. Always impeccably dressed, her sister's pale  yellow suit made Vanessa feel like a slob in her jeans and wrinkled  T-shirt. "I got some great blueberries from my supplier yesterday."

Her sister plopped onto the bar stool at one end of the island. "How do you keep from getting huge, making this stuff all day?"

"Kickboxing and portion control. What's up?"

Angelica looked around the room. "What makes you think something's up?"

"You don't come by to chat very often."

Her sister grinned. "That's because I didn't know about these muffins."

"How are things between you and Mother?"

Angelica's eyes went blank just before she dropped her muffin and burst into tears. "I screamed at her and ran out."

Vanessa set aside the knife she'd been using to chop basil and pulled her sister into her arms. "It's all right."

"N-no, it's not. She'll hate me. She'll fire me."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

She sniffled. "Same thing that happens every afternoon." She leaned  back, dabbing at her eyes with her fingertips. Vanessa handed her a  paper towel from the counter, and she continued, "She came in my office  and told me how to improve my communication skills. I very calmly stood,  then screamed at her to get out."

"Sounds like pretty effective communication to me."

"I doubt she'd agree," Angelica said, though she offered a watery smile.

"You did what you had to do."

"Like you?"

"I recall her doing most of the screaming the day I left."

Angelica laughed. "Over a bra."

"It was a pretty great bra. And in all my older-sister wisdom, I think  you should go in to the office tomorrow, wear your best power suit-maybe  black or red, definitely not dandelion-and ask Mother for a meeting.  Tell her how much her criticism hurts you, how you're doing your best  and you think you're handling your job just fine. If she's not happy  with your performance, then you're prepared to resign."

Angelica's eyes widened. "Resign?"

Vanessa shrugged. Her sister wasn't much of a rebel, but then there were  many sacrifices in gaining self-respect. "That's what I would do. Maybe  you're not ready to go there. Think about it tonight. You could even  write out what you plan to say, then you can make a rational decision."

"You know, your standoff with her didn't work out very well."

"But it did. I wouldn't change a thing. And I haven't felt the need to scream at my boss lately."

"You are the boss."

Vanessa smiled. "Exactly."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for this."

"Some part of you obviously is."

"Yeah, the psycho yelling part."

"I think there's a feminist in you dying to get out."

Angelica looked horrified.

Shaking her head, Vanessa crossed to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of chardonnay, which she opened.

When she set a full glass in front of her sister, Angelica said, "It's not even five o'clock."

"I won't tell."

Angelica took a bracing sip. "At lunch today Mother said you've been really busy."

"Yeah. It's a lot of her friends calling, too. You know anything about that?"

"I know she's talked to a bunch of people since the fund-raiser. Everybody was really impressed with you."

"No kidding."

"They loved the chocolate fountain-"

Didn't we all?

"-and the ice sculpture and all the food. They all wanted to know where  we've been hiding you, as if you've been trapped in the basement or  something. I think they just figured out how great you could make their  parties, and they were trying to embarrass Mother into recommending  you."