His Unexpected Family. Grace Green
Megan yelled after her, “But you said—” She broke off as she realized that Jodi was now too far away to hear.
Pouting, Megan looked at her mother. “If you hadn’t turned up, Jodi was going to take me to the rec center. The dance teacher’s going to be signing up new members for beginners’ jazz, and I wanted to put my name down.”
“Jazz? But what about your ballet? I thought—”
“I can do both. Jodi’s in jazz and ballet and tap.” Megan’s determined tone made it quite clear to Kendra that keeping the two girls apart wasn’t going to be easy.
“And don’t say we can’t afford it!” Megan’s cheeks had become flushed. “Maybe we couldn’t before, when we had to watch our pennies...but you hit the jackpot big-time when your granddaddy died and—”
“Hit the jackpot?” Kendra stared at her daughter. “Big-time? When my granddaddy died? Young lady, if that’s the kind of talk you’re hearing from Jodi Spencer, you can forget about jazz lessons, and Saturday outings to the Spencer place—in fact, you can just forget having anything to do with that girl! And we’re going home. Right now!”
Megan muttered something under her breath. “What did you say?”
“It wasn’t Jodi. At least, she just told me what she heard...somebody else...saying.”
And who might that somebody else have been? Kendra thought bitterly. There was only one answer to that.
“Let’s go!” she snapped.
Megan did get on her bike, and she did ride home with her mother. In body, if not in spirit. But as soon as they were inside, she headed for the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Kendra asked.
“Up to my room to do my homework.”
“Don’t you want a snack?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“We’ll eat at five, then. In the kitchenette. I’ll call you once the men have gone home for the day.”
Dam it, she thought as Megan took off up the stairs, the last thing she wanted to do was fight with her daughter. Sighing, she crossed the foyer and made for the servants’ quarters.
She could hear, up ahead, the whine of a chainsaw. Bangs and crashes. Voices and loud music. Laughter.
She was walking along the shadowy corridor past the kitchen when the door swung open and Brodie came out
They collided with a thump and she was thrown wildly off balance. He lunged after her and grabbed her upper arms to pull her upright and steady her.
She felt his fingers bruising her flesh, felt his warm breath on her cheeks. His hands smelled of fresh wood shavings and his body smelled of not-so-fresh sweat—a musky male odor that should have been repellent but instead was disturbing in a dark and primal way.
“You OK?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her voice was stiff.
He released her. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“It was just as much my fault.” She made to move on.
“Before you go—”
“Yes?”
“About Saturday.”
She tensed. And waited.
“How about if we include you in the invitation? That way you’ll get to see for yourself what we’re all about. The Spencer family, that is.” His eyes had a hard gleam. “Just because you and I can’t get along doesn’t mean our kids can’t be friends. And I believe it’s important that children be allowed to choose their own friends—unless there’s good reason to interfere.”
She met his gaze stubbornly. “As I told you, Megan and I have agreed to wait till Friday before she decides.”
“Meanwhile Jodi sits back and cools her heels?”
“She’s perfectly at liberty to withdraw the invitation.”
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you! But that’s not the way our family operates. The invitation stands.”
Kendra shrugged. “Then we’ll just have to wait till Friday to find out what Megan decides.”
“What Megan decides...or what her mother decides?”
Irritably, she sidestepped him and walked away. His cynical laugh followed her to the kitchenette, and echoed in her head long after he and his men had left for the day.
CHAPTER THREE
BRODIE got home from work that afternoon around five-thirty. Jodi was sitting on the front step, and when he jumped down from the truck, she ran over to meet him.
“Hi, Dad, I’ve been waiting for you.” She slipped her hand in his and they walked together to the picket gate that led to the back of the house. It snapped shut behind them as they stepped along the cement path. “Did you talk to Megan’s mom?” she asked eagerly. “About Saturday?”
“Yeah,” he said, “I talked with her.”
“And what did she say?”
In the backyard, Hayley was climbing out of the pool. She was wearing a black bikini that showed off her summer tan. She scooped up a towel and, running it through her waist-length brown hair, walked over to join them.
“Hi, Hayle,” he said. “How was your day?”
“Busy...but OK.” She wrapped the towel casually around her hips. “Dinner’ll be ready in half an hour.”
“Dad!” Jodi tugged the rolled-up sleeve of his denim shirt. “Is Megan coming on Saturday or what?”
“We won’t know till Friday.”
“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s what Megan said. Her mom told her she had to not rush in and make best friends on her first day at school. I guess it makes sense.” But her sigh let him know how disappointed she was.
“Fingers crossed,” he said. “And I invited her mom to come, too, so she can get to know us.”
After a beat, Hayley asked, “What’s she like?” “Oh, she’s really neat!” Jodi said. “She enjoys most of the things I do—dancing, and math, and Barbies, and—”
“I meant the mother.” Hayley slipped her feet into the floral thongs she’d left on the patio, and looked at Brodie.
Sensing that Jodi had her ears perked, and that whatever he said would in all likelihood be repeated to Megan at the first opportunity, Brodie replied blandly, “She’s very pleasant.” And pigs can sing!
“Is she pretty?” Hayley tugged open the screen door.
“According to Mitzi,” he said evasively, “Kendra Westmore is drop-dead gorgeous.”
“But what do you think?” Hayley held the door open and her cornflower blue eyes seemed to laser right into him.
“Yeah.” He lifted his wide shoulders in a careless shrug. “The lady is indeed more than passably attractive.”
“Mmm.” The cornflower blue eyes became thoughtful.
But Hayley didn’t pursue the matter.
Not then; and not over dinner.
But later, as he was helping her with the washing up, she said in an offhand tone, “I hope the Westmore woman does decide to come over on Saturday.” She avoided his eyes as she handed him a pot to dry. “If Jodi and Megan are to become friends, then it would be a good thing to get to know the mother, too.”
Brodie had