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A woman walked into the kitchen. She was about the same height and age as Estelle but that was where the resemblance ended. This woman looked nothing like her frumpy sister. Tiff was probably in her late fifties or early sixties, but her hair was dyed blond, and she was thin and dressed in stylish, sexy clothes that hugged her hips and accentuated her breasts.
“Mr. Harker, this is Tiff, my sister,” said Estelle.
“Mr. Harker. That seems formal,” said Tiff.
“Call me Harker.” He stood, shaking her hand.
“Harker? No first name?” asked Tiff.
“I’m not a fan of it.”
“That’s right. Alison did mention that.” Tiff laughed and it was a throaty sound that went straight to his nuts. By the sparkle in her eyes this woman knew exactly what she did to men.
“She’s spoken of me?” He didn’t even want to know what she’d said. Alison had a tendency to say whatever passed through her brilliant head and there had been plenty of times that she’d been more than pissed off at him.
“All the time,” said both women and then they laughed.
“Let me assure you.” He gave them a half-smile. “I’m not as bad as she said.”
“Oh, I bet you’re just as bad,” said Tiff with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Tiff don’t be rude,” chided Estelle, missing the innuendo. “Do you know where Alison went on her date? Mr. Harker needs to speak with her about a business matter.”
“Business?” The humor left Tiff’s eyes. “Would it be the matter that you discussed with her today?”
“She told you about the promotion?” asked Estelle. “She didn’t mention it to me.”
“You were making dinner,” said Tiff. “Or I’m sure she would’ve.” She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.
He understood. Nothing about that conversation had been or should be revealed to Estelle. He tipped his head and the tension in Tiff’s eyes eased a bit. Now, he had to figure out if Aunt Tiff was a practical woman or a romantic. If she was the first, she’d be an invaluable ally but if she were the latter, he’d better make sure she didn’t get ahold of a knife, or he might find it sticking out of his chest or his groin.
CHAPTER 11: Alison
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Alison’s heart slowed to a normal pace as she turned the car down their street and didn’t see any flashing lights, but something was wrong. Her aunt wasn’t prone to theatrics. She pulled into the driveway. Aunt Tiff wouldn’t have texted her to come right home unless it was very important.
Randy had understood but he probably thought she was crazy for rescheduling the date, changing her mind and meeting him for dinner, only to leave half-way through for a family emergency. She’d be lucky if he answered her texts again. She hurried into the house. “Mom. Aunt Tiff. What happened? Is everything okay?”
She stepped into the kitchen and stopped. Harker sat at the table chatting with her aunt. He was still dressed in his black business pants, white button-down shirt and he looked large, impeccable, and out of place in her mother’s kitchen. “What are you doing here? And how did you get here? I didn’t see your car.”
“I thought”—his eyes darted to Aunt Tiff—“that it’d be best if I moved the car down the street.”
“There’s no emergency is there?” She looked at her Aunt Tiff. She’d been betrayed.
When she’d told her aunt about the unbelievably horrible offer from Harker, Aunt Tiff hadn’t seen it in the same light. Her aunt had been married four times and each man had been richer than the last. She’d still have money except Aunt Tiff’s last husband had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and her aunt had spent every dime she’d had for his care. Aunt Tiff had seen Harker’s offer as a blessing. Alison had thought she’d made it clear that she had no intention of selling her child for any price.
“Of course, there is,” said Aunt Tiff. “Harker wants to speak with you about that business offer.”
“That offer has been refused.”
“That offer should be reconsidered.” Aunt Tiff smiled but her voice had an edge to it that Alison recognized. “All deals require negotiations.”
“Exactly.” Harker, the bastard, stared at her with a smirk on his face as he stood. “But we should talk about the details in private.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. I told you that some things aren’t worth any amount of money.”
Aunt Tiff snorted and smiled at Harker. “This one is young at heart and sometimes, soft in the head.”
“I am not. I can’t believe you think…” She glanced at her mother. At least she and Aunt Tiff agreed that this should not, could not be shared with her mother. “Harker, we have nothing further to discuss on this matter.” She stepped away from the kitchen door. “You should go.”
