Side by side, a matched set in their uniforms, wide-eyed and uncertain, the two of them came cautiously into the living room, hesitating like they didn’t know what to expect. Mom and Grandma, drinking in the afternoon like a couple of degenerate lushes. It must have been shocking.
Girls—they were young women. Anna at least was full grown. They’d long since lost their baby fat and had the lean frames they’d inherited from their athletic grandparents. They were both wearing bras, sneaking on mascara before school, and in a few short years they’d both fly the coop. Celia almost burst into tears.
“So,” she said. “How was school?”
“Fine,” they both said, in unison. It was kind of cute.
“The ride home was good?”
“Yeah,” Bethy said. Anna was chewing her lip, looking at the ceiling, the floor, the far window, everywhere but at her mother.
“And school was boring like it always is?”
Bethy looked at Anna, waiting for a cue. When Anna didn’t give her one, she mumbled, “Yeah.”
It would be funny if Celia weren’t so twisted up with worry. She decided not to bring up the director’s call. Celia could see how puffy and shadowed Anna’s eyes were. Arguing about it wasn’t going to change anything, since Anna would just deny everything.
Maybe she’d make Arthur talk to her. It would serve him right.
“I really have a lot of homework, so I’m going to get to it, if that’s okay,” Anna said finally, pointing a thumb over her shoulder.
“Okay,” Celia said. “I’m glad you’re home—” she called after them, but they’d already fled.
She slumped against the back of the chair. The wine in her glass had somehow vanished. On the sofa, Suzanne looked like she was trying not to laugh. Celia glared.
“Oh, honey, you’re doing fine,” her mother said. “Really, you’re all doing fine.”
Time would tell, she supposed. A few more years, and maybe neither one of them would turn out to be a bank robber, or a henchman for the next master criminal to come along. Wouldn’t that be swell?
Suzanne announced that it was time to start dinner, and the house settled into its early evening routine. Celia retreated to her office to go over a few last things and the next day’s list.
An urgent e-mail flashed on her screen—from the assistant in the legal department. The initial report she’d asked for on Superior Construction was already done. And why shouldn’t it be, that’s why it was called an initial report. She opened the file and started reading.
Summary: The lawyers believed they could get the lawsuit dismissed as baseless easily enough, but they thought it would be worthwhile to look into countersuing for bringing a frivolous suit. And this was why Celia hired lawyers. She definitely wanted to consider a countersuit.
But what was interesting was the summary of the company itself. She had expected to discover that it was a subsidiary of a subsidiary, and that tracing the holding companies back far enough would reveal which of her crosstown development rivals was throwing up roadblocks. But the report wasn’t that complicated. Superior Construction was only a few years old, and it didn’t have much real history at all. It had never been awarded a contract with the city—it was unclear that it had ever made bids on any projects, which the lawyers found encouraging because proving West Corp hadn’t damaged their business would be that much easier. But the details still nagged at Celia; she couldn’t help but think this was all smoke and mirrors. Most telling: The company had a CEO and board listed. But the ultimate ownership? Hidden behind the law firm that had drawn up the incorporation papers. Which meant the whole thing was a front that apparently existed for the sole purpose of making Celia’s life difficult. And she had a pretty good idea who might be behind it.
But suspecting that Danton Majors had thrown up a fake company to derail West Corp and proving it were two different matters.
Before dinner, she drifted to Anna’s room, stepping softly and listening carefully, not eavesdropping so much as feeling like she was edging toward a minefield. She didn’t know what was going to happen.
Steeling herself, she knocked softly on the door frame. “Anna?”
Celia expected to hear shuffling as Anna stopped whatever she was doing to arrange herself in front of her homework instead. But she only heard music playing softly from her computer.
“Yeah?”
“Mind if I peek in?”
“Sure, go ahead,” Anna said, and Celia cracked open the door.
Anna was lying across her bed in front of an open book. History text, looked like. So the kid really was doing homework; Celia never doubted. The girl looked up, blinking expectantly. She’d changed out of her school uniform and into grubby jeans and a T-shirt. Her red hair was loose, flopping around her face, and she chewed absently on a fingernail. She looked comfortable. Like a normal teenager. The sight filled Celia’s heart to bursting.
“Everything okay?” Celia asked. “You’ve seemed a little preoccupied lately.” Understatement. Celia was fishing. But barging in here informing her that her father knew very well she was sneaking out wouldn’t make her any more chatty.
“Fine. Mostly fine, I guess. Stressed out at school and the usual. But okay.”
“Good,” Celia said, mentally flailing because she didn’t want the conversation to end there, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. “That’s good. You know, if you need help, if there’s anything I can help with…” More flailing. Celia could wrap the city’s wealthiest and most powerful around her finger, but she couldn’t talk to a teenager.
Anna’s brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”
It shouldn’t be so difficult to say out loud, but it was. Wasn’t going to get any easier, but Celia brushed past the moment anyway. She was protecting Anna, she rationalized. No need to dump any more problems on the kid. “There’s a lot going on right now. It’s getting hard to juggle.”
Was that a smile flashing on Anna’s lips? It might have been. “Yeah.”
“I’ve been thinking about the beach house a lot,” Celia said. “We should take a trip out that way. Maybe for spring break.” The planning committee nonsense would be all wrapped up by then. She’d be just about done with treatment. Maybe by then she could drop some of those balls she was juggling.
“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Anna said, and sounded like she meant it.
“All right, then. I’ll put it on the calendar.”
“Okay. Cool.”
With that, Celia quit while she was ahead, left her daughter alone, and retreated. For one brief, brilliant moment, she and Anna had been on the same page, and Celia took that warm feeling and held on to it tightly.
TWELVE
DIRECTOR Benitez must have called Mom about her falling asleep in class—she certainly threatened to—but Anna couldn’t figure out why Celia didn’t confront her about it. Instead, Mom had shown up at her door with that weird, probing conversation. Not that Anna was complaining. But it was becoming clear that everyone around here was acting wonky, and Anna was afraid it was her fault. She was the one throwing the family off, and she didn’t know how to stop it.
She splashed cold water on her face to try to keep it from looking so worn and trod very quietly for the rest of the evening, hoping no one would notice her. Dinner was tense. Not even Bethy talked but kept looking at everyone as if waiting for them all to explode. Anna wasn’t going to be the one to light that fuse.
And Dad just kept watching her. She repeated her favorite insipid pop song to herself over and over again, filling her mind with it, so he couldn’t possibly see what was really there. His wry smile when he finally looked away was downright insulting, like he knew her tricks and saw right through them. He was just waiting for her to crack, and she wouldn’t. She refused.