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“Yes, Chef,” Agnes responded in her usual unruffled manner. Libby appreciated the woman’s calm demeanor; it projected an air of serene confidence that was invaluable in a busy kitchen.
Libby hooked her arm through Harris’s and tugged him back into the restaurant.
“Where are you sitting?” she asked, and he led her to his table, where they sat down together. Libby rested her chin in her palm and stared at her brother-in-law for a moment, a soft smile on her lips.
“I’m really happy to see you, Harris, but you didn’t have to follow him here,” she said quietly, and he lifted and dropped his broad shoulders in a quick movement.
“I know, Bug, but more than you, I wanted him to know that I have your back. What did he say to you last night?”
“He didn’t have the opportunity to say much of anything. I let him know that I wasn’t too thrilled to see him.” She sat up straight with a heavy sigh, her hands dropping to the table in front of her. She restlessly toyed with the silverware. “Harris, I don’t want you to interfere.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” Libby said, her resolve deepening. Her marriage to Greyson was over—that was a given—but Clara complicated matters. The fact that he was here spoke volumes as to his intentions. He wanted more. Libby wasn’t stupid; she knew that that “more” was probably Clara, or at least some kind of contact with her.
Libby needed to decide how much, if any, access she would grant him. Right now she had the upper hand; she could negotiate from a position of strength. But it would be best if she and Greyson figured this out without any external interference. She was only grateful that this “negotiation” would take place on her turf. She knew her husband well enough to know that he hated not having complete control over his environment and emotions. He was out of his comfort zone here, and she wanted that. She wanted him wrong footed.
Libby would have loved to deny him any and all privileges regarding their daughter; it was what he deserved. But realistically she knew that once lawyers and courts got involved, he would be allowed to be a part of their daughter’s life, regardless of Libby’s personal feelings on the matter. It would be best for Libby, for Clara, to find a solution that favored them rather than Greyson. And the best time to do that was now, while she had the upper hand. And she knew she did. She had seen it in his hesitation last night.
She had had a lot of time to think about what she wanted last night, and she knew the best thing for her and Clara was to allow him to be a part of the baby’s life. No matter how much she hated that prospect.
That didn’t mean she was going to make it easy for him.
“If the look on your face is anything to go by, my brother is in for a tough time.”
“I can handle him,” Libby said with a lot more confidence than she felt. “Thank you for being such a good friend, Harris.”
“You kidding me, Bug? You’re like my baby sister! There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
“Would you like to say hi to your niece?”
“Would I? Does a duck cluck?”
“Not really,” Libby said with a chuckle as she got up and led the way to the office.
“You know what I mean,” he said, sounding disgruntled, and she laughed as she opened the door to the tiny back office. She halted when she saw Tina at her desk, and her mouth dropped open in surprise. She hadn’t seen Tina in front, but she hadn’t really expected to see her friend in the office. Not in the middle of the lunch service.
Tension seemed to come off both Harris and Tina in waves, and Libby winced inwardly at the awkward situation. Tina had attempted to talk to her earlier about Greyson, but Libby hadn’t been prepared to answer questions about her estranged husband’s unexpected appearance in town yet. It had completely slipped her mind that Tina had mentioned Harris coming around to her house last night, and now she wondered what that had been about.
Nothing good, if the atmosphere in the office was anything to go by.
“Tina,” she said awkwardly. “I thought you’d be on the floor.”
“I had to do some accounting,” the other woman responded softly, immediately angling her laptop screen downward, which made Libby doubt the veracity of her friend’s words.
“Harris wanted to say hi to Clara,” Libby said, and Tina’s lips lifted in a sickly imitation of a smile, her already-pale features almost ashen.
“That’s nice.” Tina’s voice was faint and lacked any semblance of sincerity. Libby shifted her gaze to Charlie, who was watching everyone with lively curiosity in her pretty green eyes.
