"They can't just like my food, call me and book a party?"
"You know they won't. They won't risk Mother's wrath."
"You did."
Angelica waved her hand. "I just blew up today. It's-"
"No, I mean with my business. You always recommended me."
"After I swore you and my friends to secrecy not to tell Mother."
"It was still something," Vanessa said quietly.
"I also know her caterer didn't cancel at the last minute."
"You-What? How do you know that?"
"I heard her fire the other company. Apparently, they quoted her one price, then a few weeks before the party tried to raise the rates."
Certain her knees wouldn't hold her, Vanessa sank onto the stool next to her sister.
Angelica pushed her wineglass over. "Have a sip."
Vanessa did. "So, why did she wait till a week before to call me?"
"Pride, I guess. You know Mother. After all the protesting she'd done about your career, she had to think of an excuse to call. Maybe she even thought you wouldn't do her party unless she was desperate."
Vanessa searched her feelings carefully to make sure she wouldn't have been that petty. No. She would have accepted the olive branch. Hadn't she been trying to hold one out for a while now?
"This explains a lot," Vanessa said. "She and Dad both have been so weird lately."
"Weird how?"
"Nice. Friendly. Family-like."
"Definitely weird."
"I guess she's the one who convinced Dad to hire me for every last doughnut gathering at the firm and invite me to lunch three times over the last two weeks."
"Could be."
Vanessa narrowed her eyes. "And why hadn't you bothered to tell me this before now?"
"I'd forgotten about it until you mentioned the parties." She raised her eyebrows. "I was in the middle of my own crisis, you know."
"Aren't you still?"
Angelica got another glass from the cabinet and served more wine. "Sorta, but I'm at least ready to make some decisions."
"Good for you."
Angelica raised her glass. "You're a pretty great sister."
Vanessa joined the toast. "Same to you."
"I thought I might find you here."
Vanessa nearly choked at the familiar voice. Setting down her glass, she glanced at the swinging doors, where Elise Douglas stood.
She glanced at her watch. "It's a bit early for cocktails, isn't it, girls?"
"SO IN MOTHER STRIDES," Vanessa said while Lucas watched her bustle around his kitchen. "Taking over as usual. But I think Angelica and I were both so stunned-her because of the yelling and me by finding out she willingly hired me-that we didn't argue."
"And why did she hire you?"
"She was tired of the distance between us. She was also tired of paying people outside the family to do what her own daughter could."
"Good ol' Mom-loving and practical."
Vanessa dropped a handful of pasta into a pot of boiling water. "Yeah. It was pretty great actually. She told me how hurt she'd been that I didn't want to be like her, and I told her how hurt I'd been that she wouldn't let me be who I was."
He pulled out lettuce to start the salad. "I'm happy for you, chère."
"It feels different to be on good terms with her. I've stood outside the family for so long."
"That was their mistake, not yours."
She leaned against the counter next to him while he chopped tomatoes. "I made a choice, too."
"You did what you had to do, and they didn't support you. I'm not handing out any awards."
She slid her hand up his arm. "But you're sweet on me, so you're prejudiced."
He glanced at her, and their gazes locked. Her beauty blew him away at times. "So I am."
She smiled, then turned back to the pasta.
Nights like these-where they cooked dinner together at his apartment-had nearly become routine. Whenever he brought up the topic of them as a couple, though, she made a joke, or changed the subject. He was ready for a commitment and wasn't sure how much longer he could force himself to be patient.
"To top it off, Angelica and Mother had a nice talk about their work together. Apparently, there's been some tension between them for a while. I actually mediated." She angled her head. "Do you think I'm losing my rebelliousness?"
"Your what?"
"My rebelliousness. You know, I'm the rebel of the family, and now I'm the mediator."
She whispered this last word, which made him smile. "I think your rep can handle it. Let's eat."
They assembled the dishes at the dining-room table. Lucas appreciated and treasured so much about Vanessa, and the food she could easily whip up was right near the top. She'd made a big batch of her spicy spaghetti sauce early last week and brought him frozen, two-person portions for them to heat up for dinner. She ate with him nearly every night, and they slept together at his place or hers every night.
How long did she want to float in this limbo?
"I think we should-"
"The one thing that-"
They'd both spoken at the same time and exchanged smiles over the sweet, comfortable moment. "You first," Lucas said, leaning back in his chair.
"The one thing that still seems odd is my dad."
He suppressed even the slightest reaction. "Your dad?"
"Mother swears she didn't have anything to do with him suddenly inviting me to lunch or hiring me for parties."
Lucas knew he should keep careful silence here.
"I've been thinking … " Her gaze turned soft, hopeful. "Maybe he's finally realized that Mother's campaign to change me didn't work. Maybe he wants to get to know me better. To be closer."
"Maybe so." You're lying. What good is a revolution in your life if you lie to the woman who means everything? "Your father and I did briefly talk about your business the night of that cocktail party. I suggested he would help your relationship if he hired you more often."
"You two talked about me?" she asked, sounding surprised.
"A bit."
She said nothing, sipping her wine. Then she set her glass down and glared at him. The ice in her eyes chilled him to his toes. "What's going on?"
"Going on?"
"Don't repeat my words back to me. I grew up with a lawyer, remember? And you're suddenly looking very much like a lawyer."
Lucas stood, walking around the table and over to the wall of windows. That critical night a few weeks ago was coming back to haunt him. At the time, he'd wondered if his request of Joseph Douglas was a mistake, but in the ensuing weeks he'd seen Vanessa's spirits and confidence rise. She'd repaired the rift she'd longed to close. Douglas had kept his bargain and damned if Lucas didn't believe they'd both benefited.
He'd done a good thing-the right thing for once-and still he was positive he was about to hurt Vanessa. The one person he held above all others. The woman he loved.
Maybe he didn't deserve her. Maybe he never would. But he suddenly realized life was a long journey, and he had many more years to prove to her that he was a man worth holding on to. His instincts about helping her and her father repair their relationship had been right and pure. It was his methods that needed work. He prayed that mistake wouldn't cost him the love of his life. After all he'd done, wouldn't it be ironic if a good deed brought him down?
He'd asked himself not long ago whose eyes he wanted to shine in. He knew now. Hers.
Turning, he faced her. He needed to face her. "I asked your father to hire you more often, to recommend you to his friends." His gaze connected with hers. "I asked him to be nice to you."
She walked slowly toward him. Her expression was confused, bordering on angry and, yes, hurt. "Nice to me?"
"You told me you wanted to be closer to your family. Every time you talk about them, I see the need, the longing, in your eyes. I wanted to make you happy."
"And my father, after talking to you-his declared enemy-suddenly decided to do as you suggested and be nice to me?"
God, why did he know this was going to sound so much worse when he said it than when he'd concocted it? He didn't allow himself the luxury of bracing himself or pausing to gather courage. "No. I asked him to do me a favor, in return for me doing him a favor." He held up his hand as she started to interrupt. "By accident, I learned something about him I shouldn't have. Something that could seriously compromise his professional reputation. I promised silence in return for a favor."