Page 54 of Unruly

“You mean—”

“Someone has stolen twelve clients from our books,” Catherine interjected with a nod, her finger tapping down the names. With each tap, her finger hit down progressively harder. “Twelve, Cross. And you know what’s worse?”

No, but he bet she was going to tell him.

“She didn’t even tell me. Ma didn’t tell me a damn thing about this.”

Cross leaned back in the restaurant chair, and scrubbed a hand down his jaw. “Well, shit.”

“Right? Fuck.”

“This is what took so long? This is why you were in L.A. for another week?”

Yesterday had been the first time he laid eyes on his wife and daughter in two damn weeks. FaceTime was not the same thing.

Catherine shrugged. “I would have been home last week, but once I got wind of this, I had to go back through the girls. I needed to start tracking which ones lost clients, when, and if Ma had been doing anything about it.”

“Or you could have asked your mother.”

“Because no, Cross, I totally didn’t think or try that at all.”

Her sarcasm burned.

Cross figured he deserved it.

“No response?” he asked, assuming.

Catherine snatched the tablet away, and powered it down. “Nothing. Radio silence. I called my dad thinking he could tell me something.”

“Did he?”

“Nope. He made it clear he was willing to chat about anything but Ma and business. Come over, he told me, but no Catrina and no business.”

“Well, shit,” Cross repeated.

What else could he say at this point?

“Miguel told me to swallow my pride, go to Ma, and apologize. He figured that’s all Ma wants me to do, anyway.”

Cross passed his wife a look. “Did you actually consider it?”

“Yes.”

That surprised him.

He loved his wife.

Adored her.

Catherine still was who she was at the end of the day. A stubborn, difficult, grudge-holding woman. A lot like her mother, actually.

Like twins.

“I take it that’s an option you can’t follow through with, for some reason.”

“I can’t follow through on something that my mother won’t allow, Cross.”

“Right. Refusing to see you, or take calls. Yeah.”