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By the time Farris Quinn was a grown man, his aggressive nature was ingrained. Nothing and no one made him back down.
India grimaced when she realized her former husband was not alone. His mother sat with him. If he thought that would settle the matter, he was wrong. India would not be emotionally blackmailed.
When she had her smile firmly in place, she entered the room, spoke to the young man at the host stand and was escorted to a table for four. Since there were only three of them, she settled her large tote on the extra chair.
Dorothy Quinn jumped to her feet and folded India in a tight hug. “I’m so glad to see you,” she cried. Farris’s mother was short and round. The warm greeting put a lump in India’s throat. “Hello, Dottie,” she said quietly, glancing at her adversary over the woman’s head of gray curls.
Farris had stood in the same moment. His innate manners polished his rough edges. He watched the emotional reunion with a narrow-eyed sapphire gaze. Unsmiling. Remote. His glossy dark hair shone like the ravens who lived in the park.
When everyone was seated again, the waiter took their orders. Then Dottie scanned the room. “I need a quick trip to the ladies’. You two children catch up.”
As soon as the woman was out of earshot, India went on the attack. “You told me your plan was a secret,” she said, low-voiced. “This isn’t fair. You’re trying to box me into a corner, but it won’t work. I can still choose to leave. Dottie will understand.”
Farris lifted an eyebrow. “Will she?” he drawled. “Besides, this is not my fault. My mother saw a text on my phone yesterday. I had to tell her the truth. If you had called me as I asked when you landed, I could have given you a heads-up.”
India didn’t believe a single word of his bland explanation. “What exactly did you tell her?”
He shrugged. “That you were coming for a brief visit. I figured it was up to you whether or not to break her heart.”
His mocking taunt was designed to make India feel guilty. But she wouldn’t be goaded. The stakes were too high.
Before the tense conversation could progress, Dottie returned, beaming. “Now, isn’t this nice?”
Soon, the food arrived. Everyone dug in with enthusiasm, even India, despite her jangled nerves. Her connections yesterday had all been an hour or less, no time for a real meal. She had subsisted on peanuts and pretzels, and now she was starving.
Dottie’s excited chatter filled any potential silences. India responded when necessary, but she used the time to study her two companions, especially Farris. She had expected him to look older. Maybe she had hoped he would be haggard and unattractive. India was twenty-nine, Farris eight years her senior.
Except for a couple of silver hairs at his temples, his presence was the same. Impossibly sexy and gorgeous. But closed off. Unreachable. Though perhaps Dottie didn’t notice, India felt a wall of ice between her and the past.
Dottie was another matter. She was so palpably thrilled that India had come, her face was alight with happiness. Even so, India saw signs of poor health. Earlier, the older woman had come back from the bathroom out of breath. Her skin was sallow, her small hands puffy.
All India had been able to get out of Farris during their one brief phone conversation was that Dottie was seriously ill. India would have to press for more information.
In that moment, she knew she had to stay. Dottie was the closest thing to a mother India had known as an adult. Her own parents had been killed in a car crash when India was fifteen. A few years later, when India and Farris married, Dorothy Quinn’s genuine joy in her new daughter-in-law had been a balm to India’s lonely soul.
She reached across the table and took the other woman’s hand, her decision made. “Dottie,” she said. “Farris tells me he’ll be traveling a lot during the next few months. He doesn’t want you to feel lonely, and neither do I. So I’ll be staying for a while, if that’s okay with you.”
Dottie gaped. Her gaze shot from India to her son and back again. “This isn’t just a visit?”
India smiled gently. “No. I’m going to be underfoot all the time. Do you think you can handle it?”
The little joke fell flat. Dorothy’s eyes filled with tears. She squeezed India’s hand. “I would love that more than anything else in the world. But what about your job? Surely they can’t be without you so long.”
“Well...” India hesitated, aware that Farris was as interested in her answer as his mother. India’s degree was in communications. When she and Farris had finally separated, she turned down any financial support. But she had allowed him to do one thing. He had asked a friend in New York to put a good word in for India at one of the TV networks in the city. She had started out on the graveyard shift, finishing her days as the on-air newsperson in the five to six a.m. slot.
It was a brutal schedule, but she had adjusted. Other opportunities came her way. Now she had more regular hours.
Her boss had been apoplectic when she told him she was probably going to need a leave of absence. Indefinitely. He had threatened and cajoled. But India stood firm, even knowing that her job would likely not be there when she came back.
Her absence might not hurt her career. She’d had other job offers in recent months. Whenever she eventually returned to New York, it might be time to try something new.
“I’m taking some time off,” she said calmly, smiling at Dottie. “Work is work, but you’re family.”
Dottie took the explanation at face value. Farris, though, frowned, a crease between his eyebrows. India didn’t know why he would be surprised. He had asked her to come. Maybe he thought she wouldn’t stay or wouldn’t stay for long.
His gaze was unreadable. “You’re sure?”
India had known from the moment she saw Dottie sitting at the table that she couldn’t turn her back on the situation, even if Dottie was related to Farris. “I’m sure.”
