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“Beyond shocked. Way beyond,” Bliss said, remembering the horrified look in her half sister’s eyes when she’d mentioned who she was.
“Well, she should have said something but didn’t. We’ll give her a second chance.” Katie gunned through a yellow light, then eased up on the throttle as they passed hundred-year-old churches with spires and bell towers and wound down tree-lined streets flanked by stately old manors.
“She’s Mason’s landlady,” Bliss ventured.
“Mmm.” Katie sent her a sidelong glance. “Thought you didn’t care about him.”
“I don’t, much.”
Katie didn’t say a word but looked as if she were swallowing an I-knew-it-all-along smile.
Bliss’s stomach tightened as Katie turned the corner to the street where both Tiffany and Mason lived. She told herself that her paranoia was ridiculous as Katie parked at the curb in front of the ornate Victorian house.
Bliss steeled herself for her meeting with her other half sister. A sprinkler sprayed jets of water over the parched lawn and a black cat sunned itself on the pavement of the driveway near a basketball hoop. Bliss didn’t know what to expect. It had been over a week since she’d stopped by looking for Mason and had inadvertently introduced herself to Tiffany, and in that time she hadn’t heard a word from her. At Katie’s swift pace she walked up the brick path to the porch. Once at the front door, there wasn’t any time for second guesses. Katie pressed the button for the bell.
The door opened and Bliss stood face-to-face with her older sister again. Tiffany Nesbitt Santini looked no more like Bliss than Katie did.
Chin-length black hair framed a heart-shaped face. Eyes, a soft brown, were surrounded by thick lashes and tanned skin stretched tautly over high, sculpted cheekbones. Her mouth was wide, full lipped and set in a tentative smile.
“Katie,” she said, shifting her curious gaze to the petite redhead. The smile faded a little.
“Hi.” Katie seemed suddenly nervous.
“And Bliss.” Tiffany’s grin disappeared. “I wondered when you’d figure it out and be back.”
Bliss’s heart did a nosedive. Any warmth in Tiffany’s eyes had disappeared and there was a slight stiffening of her backbone. “I thought we should meet.”
“We did,” Tiffany replied.
“No. You met me. You didn’t give me your name.”
“You didn’t bother to ask.”
“I know. I didn’t think of it.”
“Because you were anxious to find your ‘friend’ Mason.”
Boy, this woman had a wicked tongue. Bliss gave herself a swift mental kick for agreeing to Katie’s screwball plan. The least they could have done was given Tiffany the courtesy of a telephone call.
“Can we come in?” Katie acted as if she didn’t sense any of the nuances of the conversation, as if she didn’t feel the tension simmering between her half sisters. But it was there, evident in Tiffany’s cool stare and frosty demeanor.
“If it’s not too much trouble,” Bliss added, half hoping she’d refuse them and this ordeal would be over. So Tiffany didn’t like her. Big deal.
“Sure. Why not?” Tiffany’s voice had all the warmth of the inside of an igloo.
A million reasons why not, Bliss thought, but pressed on.
Guardedly, the eldest of John Cawthorne’s three daughters stepped out of the doorway and allowed them both to pass. Katie, as if she knew the place, took a right into an old parlor with gleaming hardwood floors covered partially by a floral-print carpet and wing chairs. A small camelback sofa was set in front of a marble fireplace and cushions covered the bench seats of two bay windows.
“I didn’t expect company,” Tiffany explained.
“Mommy? Who is it?” a small voice called from the second floor.
“Ms. Kinkaid—you don’t know her, honey. She’s here with a…a friend.”
A flurry of footsteps heralded the entrance of Christina. Her eyes were wide like her mother’s and her black hair shone nearly blue as she careened into the room. Tiffany’s harsh countenance softened a bit. “I think you’ve both met my daughter.”
The smiling cherub flung herself into her mother’s waiting arms, but she eyed Bliss with unveiled suspicion, much as her mother did.
