for all three of them.
“No, not mine,” she said softly. “We were half sisters. We had the same mother, different fathers. Iris is Carrie’s father’s mother.” Smiling, she asked, “So, what can we do for you?” Beth Ann tried to make her voice neutral, but it came out more chirpy than she intended. “It must be important if you couldn’t talk about it over the phone.” She tightened her hold on Bernie.
“Do you know what DirectTech is?” he finally asked, his tone slightly patronizing.
“It’s a software company,” Beth Ann replied. Her head was beginning to pound. She took a sip of coffee, and Bernie wriggled to get down. Beth Ann let her slip to the floor, where she immediately clambered to get up again.
“A software company we acquired eight years ago—”
“We?”
“My family’s business.”
Beth Ann looked at him warily and asked, “What exactly is your family’s business?”
“We acquire things.”
“Venture capitalists?”
He shrugged. “If you want to call it that. We invest in companies—or buy them—build them up, then sell them when the timing’s right.”
“Do you keep anything?”
“Some things. We have a couple of resort hotels that we’ve held for two generations.”
“Oh.” Beth Ann glanced down, suddenly noticing how grubby and rough her hands looked. Just yesterday she had tried a new painting technique she’d read about in Watercolor magazine and hadn’t been able to get the stains out from under her fingernails. She pushed her hands under the table and surveyed the kitchen, noticing its shabby appearance, and was thankful she had taken yesterday afternoon to clean the house from top to bottom. At least Bernie’s fingerprints weren’t prominently displayed on the door of the faded avocado-green refrigerator. She then looked up at Christian completely at a loss for something else to say.
The silence stretched between them. Christian stared at the two people across the table from him. Beth Ann stirred her coffee, tasted it and added another two scoops of sugar. She gave him a half smile before her gaze danced away. She kissed the top of Bernie’s unruly curls and then took another sip. He felt slightly uncomfortable, as if he were the cause of her silence. What was he supposed to do but tell her the truth? Why suddenly, sitting in this kitchen, did he feel a deep sense of embarrassment about what his family owned? His eyes followed her gaze, as she now stared at an old china cabinet stuffed full of paper, cards and envelopes. Lots and lots of mail. Much of it unopened, he realized.
He cleared his throat. “I was asking whether or not you were familiar with DirectTech.”
“Oh, yes.” She turned attentively toward him.
“It’s worth quite a bit these days.”
“And tomorrow it could be worth nothing,” Beth Ann replied.
Christian smiled and said politely, “That’s possible, but not likely. We don’t generally acquire duds.”
“So what does this have to do with me?”
He paused, wondering if she ever read her mail. He glanced back over to the cabinet. Apparently not. Then he said, “I’d like that coffee now.”
Beth Ann put Bernie down and headed to the coffeepot. Bernie followed, frowning at him as she went. He gave her a tentative smile. She scowled.
Beth Ann handed him a mug of coffee and then pushed the sugar in his direction. She gestured to the old refrigerator. “There’s milk in the fridge.”
Christian nodded his thanks and said, “I take it black.”
“After you drink that, you might want to reconsider,” she advised and sat down. She looked impatiently at the clock.
“Expecting someone?” he inquired.
“What?” Beth Ann asked, her cheeks flushing.
“You keep looking at the clock.”
Beth Ann turned away guiltily. She was wishing with all the power in her that Glenn would sprout wings and appear on her doorstep. Then she shook herself. Why couldn’t she face Carrie’s husband by herself? Why did she need reinforcements? He seemed to be a perfectly reasonable man. She should just let him say his piece. After all, he had to be in Napa for an important meeting. She perked up at the idea. Wouldn’t Glenn be impressed if she handled this on her own?
“I do have a friend coming,” Beth Ann admitted cautiously. “But you were telling me about DirectTech.”
“It’s hers.”
The words were spoken so softly Beth Ann didn’t think she heard him correctly. Beth Ann noticed him staring intently at Bernie who scowled back at him. As Bernie tried to climb onto her lap, her sharp elbows dug into Beth Ann’s thigh. “Ow. Uh, excuse me?” Beth Ann asked as she helped Bernie up.
“It’s hers.” He jerked his head toward Bernie.
“Bern’s?” She sucked in a deep breath. “What do you mean DirectTech is Bernie’s? You must mean you’ve brought Bernie the software. Well, thank you very much.” She flashed what she hoped was a friendly smile. “We certainly appreciate it and we’ll save it for when she’s keyboard literate.”
“Not the software,” he said, his voice abrupt. He took a sip of coffee and grimaced. “The company. It’s hers.”
“No.”
“Well, yes. Don’t you read your mail?”
“Yes, I read my mail.”
“Didn’t you get something from my attorney for Bernadette?”
Beth Ann searched her memory, and then remembered the fat envelope. “Bernie got something from a lawyer,” Beth Ann corrected him, her face growing hot from his scrutiny. “But I thought it was a hoax. Bernie’s much too young to receive mail. I tossed it.” She was lying. It was actually in a safe pile along with Bernie’s legal papers. She’d planned to have the lawyer handling Bernie’s adoption look over the document the next time she saw her.
“Do you always toss documents worth several million dollars?”
“Routinely,” Beth Ann said blithely, wondering if there was a way to buy more time. She didn’t need his involvement right now. She changed the subject and asked, “So why are you here? I’m sure it isn’t just to remind me to read my mail.”
“Call it idle curiosity,” he replied, his voice almost amused.
“About?”
“About Caroline’s other life.”
Other life. Beth Ann swallowed hard and cursed Carrie for putting her in such a position. Bernie had inherited a fortune. She glanced out the window surprised to see the old oak tree. The fog must have lifted.
When
