it last minute jitters where you question every choice you’ve made from your wedding cake to your marriage partner? Or is it something far more serious? If the person you thought you were marrying has suddenly become someone you don’t really know, then it’s not only time to walk away and rethink your situation, it’s imperative.
FamilySecrets.Life
Chapter Thirteen
Imperative clanged through Lily’s mind with the insistence of a fire alarm. More and more it appeared her marriage to Stephen would be a colossal mistake. Her heart raced, her nerves shredded, and she developed an ache in her right temple. When the knock sounded on her door, she jumped as if stampeding elephants were after her.
“Mrs. Perkins. I have your tea.”
“Come in, Graden.”
The sight of Stephen’s formidable house manager did nothing to settle her down. Thank goodness, he set the tea tray on her desk without comment and closed the door behind him. She hoped the detective had better luck digging into his past than she had. If he were connected to Cee Cee’s disappearance, at least she’d have the satisfaction of seeing him brought to justice.
Lily picked up her sandwich, but a fresh horror froze her in mid-bite. What if Graden had done something to the food? On the other hand, he’d delivered food and drink to her dozens of times. If he wanted to harm her, he’d already had multiple opportunities. She took a big bite hoping the sandwich would solve her headache. She’d had nothing to eat since early this morning in her office with Jack. And she’d been so upset she’d barely eaten half a doughnut.
The food and the hot tea worked their magic, and she felt her common sense slowly returning. She had to prioritize. The first thing she did was return the painter’s missed calls. He wanted to confirm his arrival at two o’clock to paint the master bedroom suite in the downstairs east wing.
At this point, she’d done everything she could think of for Cee Cee. And no amount of hiding behind a tea cup and a sandwich would put her any closer to solving her problems with Stephen.
Besides, she’d made a business deal with the painter, a local from Ocean Springs, a reliable, easy-going older man she’d used ever since she’d been in business. Backing out would not only deprive him of income, but it would harm her reputation as a designer.
She confirmed the appointment, adding, “I’ll see you in thirty minutes.”
Lily tided herself up and grabbed her tea tray. She could have rung for Graden, but she didn’t want the sight of him to shake her hard-won resolve.
The sound of angry voices drifted from the kitchen. As she got closer, she realized they belonged to Clive and Toni.
Lily’s steps slowed. She wasn’t an eavesdropper. She didn’t want to be in the middle of a family argument that had nothing to do with her. And yet, every instinct she had brought her to a halt just out of sight of the kitchen door.
Their voices were so crystal-clear she might as well have been in the room with them.
“How dare you!” Toni shouted.
“Don’t press your luck.” Clive’s voice shook with rage. “I allow you to come here because Stephen is your son. I can cut out your visits and your checks without one iota of remorse.”
“Even you don’t have that kind of power, Clive.”
“You’d better re-read the agreement you signed when you tucked your tail and left here.” His cackle of wicked glee sent shivers through Lily.
“That agreement is thirty-eight years old, and I have access to the best lawyers in the country.”
“You try to weasel out, and you end up with nothing, girly. You’d better think about that before you take me to court. I will make you and your fancy lawyers both look like fools.”
“There’s always the press.”
“Are you threatening me, Toni?”
“No, Clive. I’m giving you something to think about.”
Toni’s heels tapped along the tiled floor, and she slammed out the back door. Lily listened for Stephen’s grandfather, but there was no movement in the kitchen. After a slow count of ten, she went in with the tea tray.
He was slumped in a kitchen chair, his chin resting on his chest. She put the tray on the counter and bent over him.
“Clive? Are you all right?”
His head snapped up. “Of course, I’m all right. Why do you ask?”
“The way you were sitting, I thought you’d had a stroke.”
“I’m not about to have a stroke, not until you and Stephen breed and give me a