Tempting the New Boss(58)

“I don’t want to go!” Joey objected to getting up from the table before he had a clean plate, but Brandy tugged at his hand.

“Come on, kiddo. Don’t you want to say hi to Mikey when Mom and Dad drop me off? If you do, we have to get home before he’s off to soccer practice.”

“What room are you in, Mom?” Camilla asked. “I’ll be right up to say good-bye.”

“No! I don’t want to go yet,” Joey said loudly. With his resistance and huffing, as well as expressive hand gestures meant to convey how upset he was at the early departure, he managed to jar against Brandy’s plate of half-eaten scrambled eggs and jellied toast enough to tip it into Mason’s lap.

Mason popped up, startled. “Shit!”

And the plate went crashing to the floor in a spectacular burst of noise, with the shattered pieces at his feet as he stared down, his lap a smear of yellow goop and strawberry jam.





Chapter Nine

Joey’s eyes widened and welled up with tears. “I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! And he swore!”

When Joey got to crying, well maybe the Anderson daughters didn’t resort to tears anymore, but their brother was pretty good at it. The whole restaurant craned their necks in the direction of the uninhibited wails, and Brandy and her mother simultaneously flanked Joey, patting his back and telling him to calm down, assuring him it had been an accident.

“You okay there?” her father asked Mason gruffly.

Joey surged forward, a master at getting in someone’s face when he wanted to, his black-framed glasses no more than a few inches from Mason’s surprised blue eyes. “Listen, Mr. Mason, I didn’t mean—”

At the sudden confrontation, Mason stumbled back a little, flinching, and all the Andersons, including Camilla, stared at him, mouths tight.

There was an awkward silence as her mom urged Joey back. “I’m sorry. My son is very demonstrative. He gets upset. But he doesn’t mean anything by it.”

All it would take to smooth the moment over would be a few words from Mason. No problem. I understand. Anything. Even a smile.

But all he did was shake his head, reaching for a napkin, his face shuttered.

Camilla put a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Joey. It’s no big deal. It’s not like a plane crashing.”

Joey fixed his watery eyes on her, a corner of his mouth going up. “That’s right. I crashed a plate, not a plane.”

Brandy took his arm and led Joey away, murmuring to him, and their father said, “Sorry about that. We better get going. Thanks again. Cammy, see you upstairs.” And then he was gone.

“I’ll take care of this mess, Mom,” Camilla assured her. “You go pack up. What room are you in?”

When she’d given the number, her mother said softly, “Thank you again, Mr. Talbot, for flying us in. It meant a lot to us. You didn’t have to do that.”

Camilla bit her tongue from saying that he didn’t, his secretary did.

“We’ll get out of your hair now.”

He nodded.

When she was gone, Camilla scooped up large chunks of the broken mess, but the waitress came over and waved her off. “Don’t bother. We’ll sweep it all up. That was your brother?”

“Yes.”

“A nice smile that boy has.”

Mason was still staring down at his pants, as if not sure what to do at this point. He mumbled, “I’ll call Marcia.”

“You still want your omelet, miss? If so, I can move you to another table.”

“No, that’s all right. I’m not hungry anymore.”

After the waitress left, Camilla nodded at him with a short, “I have to go. I’ll see you in a bit,” and strode to the exit.

He caught up to her, but she shrugged him away, avoiding his eyes. “I have to see my parents off, Mason. You better call about getting some fresh clothes.”

When she went upstairs, her dad opened to her knock, shaking his head as he showed her in. “I don’t know about that guy, Cammy.”

She bit her lip.

“Looked like he was afraid of catching something from Joey, for God’s sake,” he scowled.

“We’re pretty overwhelming as a group, Jack,” his wife reminded him, zipping a small carry-on bag and getting up from the bed. “We forget that sometimes. And he’s just her boss. It’s not like we’ll probably ever see him again. Right, Cammy?”

“Yes.” Her voice came out thin. “That’s right.”

“He was simply trying to have breakfast,” her mother continued, handing the carry-on to her husband and making a last minute survey of the room to make sure they hadn’t left anything, opening the closet, checking under the bed. “He probably didn’t expect his lawyer’s whole family to show up and cause a ruckus.”