AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His words were softly spoken, like an apology meant for Tess. But instead of soothing her, they made her angry. She didn’t need his damn pity. If her father wanted Graham here for their family get-together and if he wanted Graham to take over their family business, fine. Tess had no say. If she had, she wouldn’t be stabbing her cannoli, trying not to launch herself on the floor and pitch a temper tantrum the way Max had at the last family dinner.
Self-control—hadn’t she told Graham it wasn’t her strong suit? So he’d been forewarned if she launched herself at him and clawed his eyes out.
Her anger must have crackled because Michael picked up the knife nearest her hand and moved it. Tess glared at him, and he shrugged.
“So you’re the fellow who stole Tess’s job?” Granny B piped up, tackling the cannoli one of the twins had set in front of her.
Tess shot Granny B a fierce look designed to zip lips, but, of course, Granny B didn’t give a flying fig whom she offended. Never had.
“No, ma’am. I didn’t steal anything,” Graham said, nodding his thanks at Joseph who had so thoughtfully brought him a chair.
“Frank gave you control of his business, control of the empire he built from a scrap of nothing into something that paid for this house, my house and a trip to Italy last year. He trusts you. He gave you what he’d give a son.”
“But not a daughter,” Tess said before she could stop herself. Setting down her fork, she glanced at her father. He looked miserable. Good. And ironically, Graham sat to his right, also looking miserable. Doubly good.
“Tess,” her father breathed, shaking his head. “Let’s not do this now. I invited Graham over for coffee and dessert last week, before our kerfuffle. This is not the time or place.”
“Kerfuffle? Oh, that’s what you call it, huh?” She looked over at her irascible grandmother. “You ready to go, Granny B?”
“Nope,” the older woman said, picking up a piece of cannoli and popping it into her mouth. “This is like watching one of my stories… only better.”
“Mother.” Frank cast a cautionary glance to his mother.
“Frank,” she replied in the same voice, pursing her lips, a vicious gleam in her eyes. “You set this in motion. Did you think your daughter would let it slide? She’s a good girl, but she’s an Ullo.”
Tess pushed away from the table. She couldn’t do this anymore. “Mikey, take Granny B home for me, ’kay?”
For a priest, Michael knew enough about a woman not to make a fuss when she meant business. He nodded and went back to his dessert as if it were more important than saving sinners.
Tess didn’t bother saying goodbye. She walked toward the living room where she’d left her purse, her sandaled feet soft on the carpet—yet another time when she could have used the angry staccato of heels to drive her point home.
Damn it.
Scooping up her clutch, she headed for the door. She shouldn’t have come. Should have faked a stomachache. The pain was too raw, the betrayal too recent for her to put on a smiling face and play happy family. But she’d wanted to be with her brothers and mother. Not her father—she’d planned to pretend he wasn’t there, but that hadn’t worked. Not when Graham had showed up looking fresh, handsome, and ready to be the golden boy he obviously was.
“Tess?”
Stopping on the wide porch, she spun toward Graham who stood framed in the open doorway of her parents’ home. “Don’t even, Graham.”
“Tess, please. I didn’t know you’d be here. Truly.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said turning toward the driveway crowded with a BMW, a Mercedes, and Michael’s priest mobile, aka a black Caddy. Her small Prius looked out of place… a true representation of who she was among her talented, over-accomplished brothers. Tess: quirky, trendy and socially conscious. But not successful and stable enough. Is that what her father saw when he looked at her?
No substance? Not smart enough to rise to the top? No penis?
She’d never thought so before, but now she didn’t have a clue how anyone saw her. Hell, she wasn’t sure how she saw herself.
Reaching her car, she pulled open the door, but Graham’s hand slammed it closed. “Damn it, Tess. Stop. Please.”
“Move, Graham.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, his blue eyes intense, apologetic, and riled all at the same time. He wore a polo shirt and a well-worn pair of jeans. The blue stripes in the shirt made his eyes look brighter and his shoulders broader. Tess wished she hadn’t noticed. And the scent of his cologne tickled her nose, making her long to inhale and savor his unique smell. Instead she concentrated on a scar on his forearm.
“I didn’t come here for this.”
“So why did you come?”
“Your father asked me, wanted me to meet your mother. I refused the family meal but told him I’d stop by for dessert.”
