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There was no mention of how he was the one who took care of her, who ensured she maintained the standard of living his father had provided her with; no mention that this house literally belonged to him because he’d bought it from her and then let her stay in the same room she’d lived in for years. Nope. Paul was back and everyone had to cater to him or face her wrath.
Being the dependable one meant nothing.
Quaid stood. At least he had a ton of work to distract him. “Give me a call when it’s all right for me to come home, Mom. Paul, don’t give me a call at all.”
He was feeling tired and mean as he started toward his bedroom. He would pack some clothes and simply take himself out of the equation. His office had a small apartment on the top floor. He would stay there for however long it took for Paul to get bored and ask for whatever he needed this time around.
“Quaid?” Caroline stopped him before he went upstairs. She moved toward him, rolling one of his suitcases along the way. “I packed it the night he came home. I’d hoped you wouldn’t need it.”
He sighed. This woman had taken care of their house since he was a kid. She’d been part-time mom and full-time friend. Caroline had been the one to give him his first science-fiction and thriller books, since his parents thought fiction was a waste of an intelligent man’s time. He took the suitcase with the full knowledge that everything he would need would be in it and leaned over, brushing her cheek with an affectionate kiss. “Thank you, and call me when things go bad.”
She nodded. “I will. Do you want me to make you a thermos of coffee?”
He shook his head, picking up his laptop bag. At least staying at the office meant he wouldn’t have to entertain his mother and her friends, and he might get some writing in. Positivity. He was going to be positive. “Cindy will already have a pot on. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
He walked out the door with a heavy feeling in his heart.
•••
Twenty minutes later he was walking into the café across the square because Cindy, in fact, had not made a pot of coffee. That machine she had insisted on getting for the office was intensely complicated, and he couldn’t handle it this morning. His legal secretary had left him a note reminding him that she was taking the month off to help with her new grandbaby. Her daughter had gone into labor early and now he was down a secretary, but he also seemed to be down a bunch of work.
The city project he’d intended to start was now off his plate, having moved to the new lawyer in town.
And three of the negotiations he’d had on the calendar had been canceled.
He intended to find out why after he had some coffee.
“Hey, Quaid.” Dixie had owned the café for the last thirty years, and the menu never changed. “Come on in and find a seat. We’re at a lull right now. You want your usual?”
His usual was coffee, egg whites, and turkey bacon with a side of whole grain toast. It seemed boring today, but he nodded anyway. “Sounds good.”
The breakfast crowd had already left, so the café was pretty quiet. The lunch rush wouldn’t start for another hour or so. It was nice. He could find a table and read through the stack of mail that had come in while he’d been in New Orleans.
Sienna Cardet walked out of the kitchen with a pot ofcoffee in her hand. She took one look at him and her eyes widened in a deer-in-the-headlights way that made him worry he’d offended her. Or scared her.
“Hey, Sienna. How’s your momma doing?” When in doubt, the Cajun boy always asked about family.
She seemed to think about that for a moment. “Great. Just great. Were you picking up an order? I can get that for you.”
That was odd. He heard the bell announcing another customer but kept his attention on Jayna Cardet’s sister. He’d been so busy the last couple of days, he’d almost forgotten about the new lawyer in town. He wondered if she was struggling with the legalities of the new park Sylvie wanted to build. Maybe he would ask her to dinner to talk it all over. “No. I was going to sit in the back and eat. Don’t worry. Dixie already took my order. I’ll find a booth.”
Jimmy Abbot brushed past him with a nod. “Morning, Quaid. Hey, Sienna. I’m here for my appointment.”
Sienna flushed but pointed toward the back of the café. “She’s waiting for you.”
Jimmy started for the booth Quaid had been planning on using, but now he saw it was taken. A woman sat at the table, her cap of glossy brown hair clearly visible over the seat. She turned slightly as Jimmy approached, and Quaid watched as she shook his hand and offered him the seat across from her.
“Sienna, is your sister holding office hours at the café?”
Sienna’s jaw went tight. “She’s just... you know... meeting people.”
Oh, she was not, and suddenly the problems with Paul and his mother got shoved aside. It would be so much more fun to figure out what Jayna was doing. And with one of his clients.
He set down his files at a booth close enough to Jayna to eavesdrop, but far enough away to not arouse suspicion.
“She can’t keep this up,” Jimmy was complaining. “I did everything she wanted me to. I bought her blackout drapes, and when she said she wanted help with her hot tub, I fixed it. It’s an aboveground tub she hasn’t used in years. I helped fill it and made sure the chemicals were all right. I didn’t know she was going to... It’s too horrible. It’s affecting my business.”
Dixie placed a mug of coffee in front of him.
