Millionaires' Destinies(103)
“No,” she said, regarding him curiously. “What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious? How about baked potatoes?”
“Love them.”
Mack nodded. “Hey, William, can you throw together a couple of filet mignons, baked potatoes with sour cream and butter, caesar salads and something de-cadently chocolate?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Carlton,” the chef at one of the Carlton Industries steak-house restaurants in Georgetown said at once. “Is this for your house?”
“No.” He gave the man Beth’s address. “Will a half hour be too much of a rush?”
“Of course not. I’ll send it right over.”
“Thanks, William. You’re a lifesaver.”
“It’s my pleasure, sir.”
“Oh, and one more thing, William.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Could you at least wait till morning before you call Destiny and tell her about this?”
“Sir, I do not report to your aunt,” the chef said indignantly.
“Not officially, no,” Mack said. “But she does have a way of wheedling information out of you, doesn’t she?”
William chuckled. “Your aunt is a very clever woman,” he admitted. “She does have a way of getting whatever information she wants. Most men find her irresistible.”
“Irresistible or not, try not to let her get hold of this little tidbit to chew on, okay? She’ll make my life a living nightmare.”
“Only because she cares about you and your brothers,” William said. “You’re very lucky to have such a fine woman in your lives. I’m not sure any of you appreciate that.”
“Your scolding is duly noted, William.”
“As it should be, sir. I’ll have your dinner there shortly.”
Mack sighed, almost regretting the can of worms he’d opened by making that particular call. Unfortunately, despite his tendency to blab what he knew to Destiny, William served the best steaks in town.
As he hung up, he saw Beth studying him with a bemused expression. “Was that William of William’s Steak House?”
Mack nodded.
“And he’s going to send over takeout in thirty minutes?”
“Yes.”
“And then, most likely, report back to your aunt?”
Mack nodded again.
“You live in a very fascinating world.”
He grinned. “It has its moments.” He regarded her with interest. “I suppose your family is totally normal.”
An odd look that Mack couldn’t quite interpret passed across Beth’s face. “Not so normal?” he pressed.
“I guess that depends on your view of normal,” she hedged.
“I mostly grew up with an aunt who regards life as one gigantic adventure and who has turned meddling into a fine art,” he said. “Believe me, I have a very loose definition of what constitutes normal. Do you have brothers and sisters?”
A shadow darkened her eyes and he immediately recalled the brother who’d died during a childhood bout with leukemia. “I’m sorry. I forgot about your brother.”
“That’s okay. Sometimes it feels as if it happened several lifetimes ago.”
“Because every time you face losing a patient, it’s like going through it all over again,” Mack guessed.
“In a way, though at the time I was so young, I was only aware that someone I loved very much was really, really sick and then he died. It left this huge void in my life, because Tommy was all I had in some ways.”
“You mean because he was your only sibling?” Mack asked.
Beth shook her head. “Because after he died, my parents retreated even more deeply into their work. They were research scientists, too. They were never very outgoing, demonstrative people, but after Tommy died, it got worse. They were driven to find answers. Most nights they got home long after I’d gone to bed, and they were usually gone when I got up in the morning. I rarely saw them.”
Mack heard the hurt behind the factual recitation, and another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “So your work isn’t really all about your brother, is it? It’s also a connection to your parents.”
She seemed startled by the comment, then relieved when the doorbell rang to prevent her from having to answer.
Mack looked her in the eye as he stood up to go to the door. “I’m not forgetting about this conversation,” he warned as he left the kitchen.
When he returned a moment later, Beth was busy setting the table. She never even looked up to meet his gaze until after he’d set out the dishes from the restaurant.
“It smells heavenly,” she said a little too brightly, taking her place at the table. “You must order from William a lot to get such incredible service.”