Page 117 of Unruly

“Keep going,” Catrina repeated, unmoved.

“I questioned you when I shouldn’t have. I overstepped my place. You taught me a valuable lesson that was well learned.”

“Was it?”

Catherine stuffed her hands in the pockets of her trench coat in an effort to keep them warm. “This … what you do, I mean, isn’t easy. It was one thing for me to handle a piece at a time, but when it’s all shoveled on, it’s different.”

“And difficult,” Catrina said.

“That, too. I didn’t realize just how much you’re always dealing with.”

Catrina sighed. “I throw things at you—like the Giuseppe meeting—because I know you can handle it, Catherine. You thought that meeting was a failure on your part, but it was far from it. You learned something invaluable. Not every person I deal with will be amicable to you, or pleasing to your personality. You have to be able to manage a changing business on your own because I will not always be here.”

“Abril definitely wouldn’t have been amicable to you,” Catherine said, grinning.

“Abril?”

“New supplier. Cartel leader. Certainly likes her place acknowledged. Kind of like you.”

Catrina pursed her lips. “Mmm.”

Catherine pointed at her mother, saying, “And that attitude right there would not have worked. I don’t mind stepping aside when it comes to business to get shit done. I can tell when my place is lost because it’s no longer my throne to sit on for the moment. Overstepping my boundary with you taught me that, too, Ma.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t give people an inch, Catty, or they—”

“Take a mile, I know.”

Catrina smiled softly. “However, well done.”

Pride swelled through Catherine, but she managed to keep from preening like a little peacock with its pretty feathers. Barely.

“You think?”

“I suppose I can take a step back from suppliers and shipments, then?” Catrina asked instead of indulging Catherine’s question.

“I would … really prefer it if you had as little as possible to do with Abril in the way of business, Ma. It would be a Giuseppe situation all over again, and I don’t have the time to go out and find myself a new supplier.”

Catrina’s gaze darted down to Catherine’s flat stomach. “I guess not. How’s the pregnancy?”

“A lot like Cece’s was, I think.”

“So, exhausting, vomiting … the usual.”

Catherine laughed. “Yeah, about like that.”

Catrina gestured toward the hospital. “And nothing is wrong?”

“Standard tests, Ma. An ultrasound. Heartbeat. Pee in a cup. Bloodwork results. Everything is great, really.”

“I was told you would need a driver, and your guards would follow behind today. Things are not very good on Cross’s side of business, are they?”

“It’s always something.”

“It is,” her mother echoed. “But that was the life we signed up for. Knowingly.”