“Abigail. Tabitha doesn’t have anyone—”
“She’s a leech who always runs her mouth about Jules, and I’m so tired of you thinking she’s this wonderful pseudo-daughter.”
“Honey, that’s not fair.”
Sloane wrapped her arm around Abigail’s shoulders. “Forget about Tabitha. That wasn’t the first time or the last time she’ll stick her foot in her mouth.”
Abigail frowned. “You’re just saying that because she’s your client too.”
“Dad’s going to grill steaks tonight,” Mom said, changing the subject. “Everyone’s staying for dinner and is welcome to spend the night.”
Abigail’s nostrils flared. “Not Tabitha.”
“Not tonight,” Mom said. “The three of you can work this out later.” She turned a sympathetic gaze on Jules. “You’ve had a horrible day. But everyone’s safe. Insurance will replace what you lost. We will handle this together.”
“Abigail’s right, Mom,” Jules said. “Tabitha isn’t doing well, and it’s focused on me.”
“I’m not going to have this discussion without Tabitha after you had a fight.”
“It wasn’t a fight.” Jules turned to Sloane. “Why was she yelling at you?”
Sloane shrugged. “Disagreement over a publicity plan. No big deal. I was letting her vent.”
Abigail led their group down the hall.
“The daytime Emmy nominations were announced this week,” Mom added. “Tabitha’s disappointed she wasn’t included in the best supporting actress category.”
“So she calls Jules a—”
“Forget about it, Abs.”
And they would. Jules wouldn’t let Tabitha bother her tonight. She turned to Abigail. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Of course. I can take care of myself.”
They reached the kitchen. Dad wore a worn Kiss the Chef apron that Abigail and Jules had given him when they were teenagers.
“That thing needs to be thrown out.” Jules pulled out a barstool and sat.
“Never.” Dad chortled. “Just like your mother and me. We won’t stop until we fall apart.”
“That’s super healthy, Dad,” Abigail said.
But it was their family motto. Work hard, then work harder. The professional ethic had served their family well.
“You’re one to talk,” Mom said. “You almost didn’t go on the sister-moon because of a pile of invoices.”
The sisters shared looks. Their mother had no idea what had transpired in St. Barts.
“We’re slowing down,” Mom added.
No one in their family would say “retire” and not just because of that stupid stalker.
How could it be Mason?No, she couldn’t think of it right now. Jules absentmindedly scrolled through her phone. Her social media feed made her stomach turn, so she laid the phone down again.
Dad lifted a tray stacked with steaks. “Someone get the door for me. Are Rhys and Wes here?”
“I don’t know where Wes is… or, for that matter, Rhys. He should have been back by now.”
