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“You’re right. And the truth is I’m still anticipating a disaster. We’re very different from our mother in so many ways.” She realized that her stomach muscles had been tense since she’d stepped off the plane in Inverness. “My mother’s style of parenting is very different from my sister’s. At some point, there is going to be a major clash. I’m braced for it. I’ve had a knot in my stomach since the airport. My sister is totally focused on her family. It’s everything to her. Building that nest and making it cozy. Me? I’m more about work, and—damn.” She pushed her plate away, appetite gone. “I guess I have my mother to thank for that. So maybe we’re not so different after all.” Ella was right. It was unsettling to admit it. “I’ve turned into my mother, and I didn’t even see it happening. I might need that whiskey after all.”
“Because you like your work? That doesn’t make you like your mother. From what you’ve told me, your mother virtually cut herself off from personal relationships. You spend your weekends playing with your niece. You’ve supported your sister for all of her life. And you’re running a company with a small team who all love you and have been with you from the beginning. Do you know how unusual that is?”
“How do you know so much about my company?”
“If you want the best job done, you choose the best people.” He cleared his throat. “And I might have talked to—er—Charlotte a few times.”
“You talked to Charlotte? About what?”
“An astonishing array of subjects. She’s very chatty.”
Samantha laughed. “She is. Clients love her. I love her, too.”
“I can understand why. And Amy is adorable. She sent me a photo.” He pushed her plate back toward her. “Eat. It’s cold out there. You need food. I shouldn’t have finished your fries.”
He’d remembered the name of Charlotte’s daughter.
“I’m not that hungry. Talking about my mother reminds me of all the things that can potentially go wrong while we’re here.”
“There’s always a possibility that your mother really has changed.”
“You think people can change?”
“Maybe change is the wrong word. I think people have an ability to adapt to different circumstances. I hope they do, or I’m not sure how my mother will cope.” He finished his burger and wiped his fingers. “I think she’ll be fine as long as she is living here, in familiar surroundings, along with all the memories of my father. I’m determined to make that happen. It would be easier if I wasn’t fighting my sister.”
She badly wanted to help, and not just for professional reasons. “Let’s talk numbers.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a notepad and pen. “Let’s figure it out together. I’ve seen enough to know what you have to offer, and I have a good idea about what people will pay. You know what you need. Let’s bridge the gap. If you can present facts to your sister, she might find it easier to accept. Maybe she’ll be able to adapt to new circumstances, too.”
And she should probably follow her own advice.
Being with her mother at Christmas was definitely going to require some adaptation, on everyone’s part, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to work.
Talking to Brodie had reminded her that all families were complicated, even apparently functional ones.
Perhaps everything would be all right after all.
Of course it would help if she could stop imagining Brodie naked.
Ella
“Where are we going?” Ella stifled a yawn as she grabbed her coat. She was still feeling the effects of jet lag. “And what did you do all day yesterday? You were back so late we didn’t have a chance to chat.”
“I was working.” Samantha gathered up all her outdoor gear. “Did you have fun?”
“Mmm.” Ella wasn’t sure how to answer that, so she ignored the question. “What’s the plan for today?”
Michael had shut himself in the bedroom with his laptop and two brimming mugs of coffee, dealing with a work emergency so it was just her, Samantha and Tab.
“We are going on a trip and you need to dress warmly.” Samantha was on her knees next to Tab, zipping her coat and tugging her hat down over her ears. “Where are your gloves?”
“In my pocket.” Tab produced them with the drama of a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. “Are we going on a secret trip?”
“It’s a secret trip.”
“Will we see Santa?”
“Better than Santa.” Samantha scooped her up and swung her, and Ella wondered what had happened to her sister, because something had happened, she was sure of it.
“You’re raising expectations. Where are we going?”
