Virginia’s face flushed. She threw a spoonful of carrots onto Jada’s plate hard enough to splash the juice across the pristine mound of potatoes.
Jada smiled, enjoying every second of the little tussle. Bud handed her the bowl of potatoes. Licking her lips and swallowing as if she could taste the butter on her tongue, Jada scooped away three-quarters of the mound Virginia had heaped in the center of her plate and threw them back in the bowl. She looked at Bud, tilted her head, and said sweetly, “I think all Max was saying was that she was sorry she didn’t meet us back then, Mother.”
Was that Jada coming to her defense? The undercurrents flowing were killer, subtle, indefinable, and imperceptible to someone not looking for them. It wasn’t what they said. It was the brittle tones, the hesitations before answering, the pursed lips, deep sighs, narrowed eyes, sly smiles, and glances that passed between them. Virginia to Bud, Bud to Jada. The occasional odd movement of the tablecloth as if someone was doing something beneath the table, something secretive. Something beguiling.
And Bud sitting like a king in a house that wasn’t his own.
Max wondered why she couldn’t even begin to read these people. Maybe it was the food obsession they all seemed to have. Maybe it was Bethany who didn’t want to try. She was too close.
Virginia, passing the carrots, started on the plate of London Broil. She took a deep breath as she served, gave a little shake of her head, and came back into the conversation. “You’re all misunderstanding me. I only wanted to—” She stopped after spearing four pieces of meat for Jada’s meal. “Oh, never mind. Let’s talk about something else. Did Jada tell you she’s going back to college?” Virginia could have been asking anyone. A very neat deflection. She was good, very good. “She wants to learn shorthand and be a secretary.”
Max wondered what the girl had majored in the first time. Starvation?
“Mother, nobody even uses shorthand anymore. And they aren’t called secretaries. They’re administrative aides.” The carrots having made their way back to her, Jada divested her plate of most of the pile her mother had forced on her.
Virginia tut-tutted. “Well, you certainly don’t hear it called Administrative Aides’ Day. It’s Secretaries’ Day.”
Jada rolled her eyes.
Max took two pieces of the too-red meat, then added another at Virginia’s gasped, “Oh my dear, please, you must have more than that.” Bethany had loved London Broil, loved it rare. She’d loved the little baby carrots, too, just like this, smothered in butter and brown sugar. Max barely stopped herself from groaning aloud as the seasoned scent of the meat wafted up into her face.
All she wanted to do now was close her eyes, savor the food, the sweet taste on her tongue, and drown out the arguing. Shut out the bad and relish only the good. That’s all Bethany had ever wanted. That and to be loved.
God, there she was falling into Bethany’s fantasies again. Max passed the plate on. Traynor’s fingers brushed hers along the bottom of the serving dish. Her jaw tightened. He smiled with just his lips, challenging with a glint in his eye. Her teeth ached with keeping her mouth shut. She wanted nothing more than to slap him down. He’d been pulling that kind of shit all night. Handing her a glass. Sitting next to her on the sofa. Helping her into her chair. Such a gentleman. Such an asshole. He was doing too damn good a job of getting to her.
“You’ll learn the computer then,” Virginia, buttering a roll, went on making her plans for Jada as if there’d been no lull in the conversation. “Everyone needs to know how to use a computer these days. There’s so many careers out there if you’ve got computer skills.”
“You don’t how to use one,” Jada said, short of a sneer.
“I don’t need to get a job right now.” Virginia’s lips tensed. Max felt sorry for her. Living between Bud and Jada was far worse than a rock and a hard place. It was like making your home in the center of a volcano. Then again, Virginia didn’t seem to realize she was dictating to her twenty-nine-year-old daughter.
“Tell us, Max,” Virginia went on, changing the subject smoothly once again, “what do you do for a living?”
“I’m an accountant.” Max didn’t offer anything more. She didn’t want to be drawn into the center of attention. Besides, Bethany wanted to savor the beef without interruption.
“An accountant.” Virginia clasped her hands, clearly delighted. “Like Wendy. I hear many women are going into the finance area. You must be very good at it.”
Jada made a noise, a little chirrup. Everyone turned to her. “I bet there’s a lot of things you’re good at.” She moved her head slowly, looked at Bud, then took the meat platter he offered her. “Don’t you think so, Uncle?”
Bud smiled, parted his lips slightly as if about to blow her a kiss. “I know so, even in the short time that Max and I have been acquainted.”