S
ummer came to a close with a cloudburst and a twenty-degree drop in temperature. The mild sunny days gave way to drizzle and the chilly nights of fall.
Zoe entered eighth grade and was, for the first time, actually enjoying school. With some legal maneuvering and clever words, Doug Jenkins had been able to persuade a family court judge to sign papers making sure Lena Bowers officially became the teen’s foster mother. Zoe’s real mother had bypassed showing up for the hearing.
Annabelle’s little brother, Tate Brock, quit school before beginning his junior year at UDub. Over the summer, Tate had taken on source code all the while still trying to get the hang of 3D graphics. But when the guy had come knocking at Josh’s door for a job, Josh hadn’t had the heart to turn Tate away. So Josh had found a position for Tate in testing. It wasn’t much in the way of salary but for a college-aged kid with roommates, it would allow Tate to pay his rent.
When Josh’s mother called out of the blue and requested he come home to
Laurelhurst for a Saturday night dinner, he had to explain he’d be bringing his…what was Skye anyway? Certainly he should introduce his girlfriend to his family. But he would love to have told his mom that he’d met the woman he intended to make his wife. It was a little hard to do that when the potential wife-to-be kept dodging the issue as cleverly as a politician.
And it didn’t get any better when Josh told Skye about the invitation that night over steak fajitas. Hearing the news, he thought she might choke on her mouthful of red peppers and rice.
“You want me to meet your family?” Clearly agitated at the idea of that, Skye tried to think of a reason not to make the trip with him.
Her demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by Josh.
“But…we’d probably have to leave around nine or so—”
“So we can go out on our rounds,” Josh finished. “I didn’t forget. It won’t hurt this one time to leave an hour later.” He picked up his glass of white wine, doing his best not to get irritated with her. “It’s time for you to meet my family, Skye.”
“I know it is. But…what if they don’t like me?”
“That isn’t possible.”
“Sure it is. I bet they’ll ask a ton of questions about…questions…I don’t want to answer. They’ll recognize my name.”
“They won’t ask questions.”
Her brow creased. “Did you tell them not to?”
He sipped his wine then set down his glass with all the patience of a man in love. “Skye, I accepted the invitation, made small talk with my mother, asked about the health of my dad and then wanted to say, ‘oh by the way, I’m bringing the woman I’m in love with,’ but I didn’t say that because of this prickly-pear reaction I’m getting right this minute.”
Across the table, Josh heard the sigh long before she finally said, “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous. Of course, we’ll have dinner with your parents.”
Phyllis and Douglas
Ander’s stately Tudor-style house in the section of Seattle known as Laurelhurst—the neighborhood once home to Bill Gates—came with its own private jetty on Lake Washington and a stunning view of the Cascades to the east.
Skye gawked when Josh pulled his Fusion up to a set of iron gates and watched as he punched in a code allowing them entry onto a circular driveway.
They drove around a manicured front yard ringed by soaring evergreens, neatly trimmed hedges and a water fountain lit up like a tower hugging the Seattle skyline.
“You might’ve mentioned you came from money.”
“This? It represents
their
money, Skye. I had to make mine on my own. And I did. So relax, will you?”
She did her best as she threw open the door and crawled out of the Ford. Smoothing out the vanilla and mint-green dress she’d worn with the kick of lace and tulle overlay, she asked, “How do I look? Do I look like I’m sweating? Because I think my deodorant gave out about halfway here.”
Josh stared at the strapless outfit with its belted waist and flared skirt, the silk wrap she’d draped around her shoulders. It wasn’t the clothes but her cinnamon skin and exotic violet eyes that took his breath away. But knowing she needed a boost to her confidence, he gave it all he had. “Beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning.” And just to make sure she didn’t panic, he added, “You really rock those spring colors. It’s not the image of the warrior I wanted on my game packages, but I could always stop the presses and get marketing to go another route. Do you want me to go on?” Before she could answer, he nipped her around the waist. His mouth fused to hers in a heated swap of lips and tongues.
They were still going at each other when the door flew open. They popped apart as Phyllis Ander stood on the other side of a tiled floor, a curved staircase at her back. A fifty-something woman with stylish, short-cropped, graying hair, stared at them with hazel eyes, looking intrigued. “Did it ever occur to my handsome son to call once in a while to let me know he was still alive and kicking?”
“Hi Mom,” Josh said easily as he cocked his head and leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Skye Cree.” He tugged Skye forward as they stepped inside the entryway. “Skye, my mother, Phyllis Ander.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Ander,” Skye managed to breath out as she stuck out a hand in greeting and got a hug instead.
“Now none of that. You call me Phyllis. Everyone does. You are as lovely as your name. Why don’t I take your wrap? Unless of course, you’re cold.”
“I am a little chilly,” Skye told her as she nervously bunched the shawl around her middle. Just then, an older version of Josh appeared beside his wife. He had his son’s same black hair but graying at the temples, and the same silver eyes.
“And this is Doug, Josh’s father,” Phyllis pointed out.
“Nice of you to finally drop by and see your parents,” Doug Ander told his son with a slap on the back before he put his arms around him for a bear hug. Doug lifted a few strands of Josh’s long locks and said, “You really need a haircut.”
“Not gonna happen,” Josh returned evenly with a grin.
“It’s so very nice to meet both of you,” Skye repeated, glancing around to take in the arched passageways, the gleaming wide-planked floors, and the vaulted ceilings.
Phyllis put an arm around her son’s waist on one side and Skye’s on the other, neatly ushering them both into a den tastefully decorated in what Skye termed modern with classic black-and-white lines.
A cozy fire burned in the massive stone fireplace that took up an entire wall. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows at the end of the room offered up a tropical terrace with a shimmering lighted pool beyond.
“Sit down and get comfortable. What are you drinking, Skye? Josh, you will play bartender while Doug and I get to know Skye here.”
“Chardonnay’s fine,” Skye answered, sending Josh an I-told-you-so look. But Josh simply smiled back at her.
“I’ll take the same,” Phyllis echoed.
“Dad, what can I get you?” Josh asked.
“Whiskey. Neat,” Doug replied with a grin. “There’s a reason Skye’s still wearing her wrap. There’s a nip in the air tonight.”
While Josh dutifully went over to a built-in, well-stocked bar, Phyllis settled in and leaned over, patted Skye on the knee. “Okay, I’m going to get nosy right off the bat. How long have you and my son known each other? And before you answer, realize that this is only so I can yell at Joshua for not bringing you around before tonight.”
“Uh, since last spring. I met him last spring.”
Phyllis shook her head and turned to Doug. “Didn’t I tell you so?” The woman sighed. “Well, it’s a pleasure to finally meet the famous Skye Cree. You’re doing such marvelous work with The Artemis Foundation.”
“And now that you’re no longer a secret from us, we’ll be making regular contributions to your cause,” Doug added.
Skye’s mouth dropped open slightly. Nervously she flicked her tongue around to wet her lips. So they had recognized the name, if not the face.
When Josh returned with two white wines, his mother gave him a mocking glare. “Joshua Sebastian Ander, I’m very disappointed in you.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Josh sang out as he went back to pour the other drinks.
“At least Skye finally explains the reason you’ve ignored your family over the entire summer. It’s abominable behavior and you know it.”
Doug chuckled at his wife. “But what a reason for staying away,” Doug imparted as he raised his glass to Skye in salute. “Here’s to you for getting our Josh back on track. We’re indebted to you for that.”
At the man’s words, Skye felt a measure of guilt and sympathy for the Anders. She would love to have told them they were lucky to have Josh here at all tonight to be able to pour drinks and sit down to a nice meal. But that would require a replay of what had happened to their son last spring with Kiya merging wolf instincts into him to assure his survival.
Skye knew she couldn’t take credit for getting Josh “back on track” at all. Sure, she’d fallen in love with the guy. But if his parents knew the truth about their activity from last spring, she doubted Doug and Phyllis Ander would be toasting her at all.
In fact, she was sure they would consider escorting her to the gates of the estate with a stern warning to get out and stay out and keep away from their son for good.
As she sat there listening to the banter between the son in question and his parents, it occurred to her she’d have trouble staying away from Josh Ander if they ever decided to issue an edict like that.
He wanted to marry her. Why was she dragging her feet about that?
But one glance around the room had her wondering what kind of base the two of them could ever build for a marriage. Skye had never considered the belief that opposites attract. She’d never had a reason to before. But now, did she really know Josh Ander, the man she slept beside every night? After all, she hadn’t even known he came from this kind of money.
When a maid interrupted her train of thought with the pronouncement about dinner, Skye got to her feet on automatic, followed them into a dining room with a crystal chandelier over the huge mahogany table.
At the time she’d made that statement about Cinderella it had been nothing more than a bit of a drama moment on her part. But now she realized that’s how she felt sitting down to dinner with the Anders.
Over salad, prime rib, and asparagus tips, the talk turned to Orcas Island and the cabin there that had been in the family since the 1930s.
“Josh tells us you two spent the Fourth of July over there? How did you like the place, Skye?” Doug wanted to know.
“It’s beautiful. The second time we spent there was much better than the first though. Over the Fourth we got to bike around the area, take the nature trails into the hills and explore. Josh even took me out on the water.”
“So you’ve been over there twice,” Phyllis asked eyeing Josh’s face.
Realizing she’d said way too much, Skye attempted to tap dance around the truth. “Well, the first time we went—”
“We spent most of the time indoors as I recall, never left the cabin,” Josh admitted without the slightest hint of embarrassment. “We didn’t take advantage of all the area had to offer until the holiday, which meant everywhere we went was jam-packed with sightseers.”
“That’s true. The shops in Olga were very crowded. And the roads…the roads were clogged so Josh suggested we...we motored over there in the boat.”
Taking pity on a nervous Skye, Josh reached to pick up her hand, placed a kiss on the palm.
Delighted with her son’s reaction, Phyllis went on, “Isn’t that the cutest little hamlet for artists? What did you buy?”
Skye smiled. “We bought a gorgeous
giclée print by James Hardman depicting a trail and the forest in soft pinks and blues.”
“We have his
Mandolin Player
framed in one of the guest rooms. It’s a shame you two can’t stay the night. But Josh tells us you have to get back.”
“Yes, I’m sorry about that,” Skye said and meant it. She sent a sideways glance in the direction of Josh, and added, “I suppose we could stay longer. There’s no real hurry.”
But Doug surprised her. “You should do whatever you have to do. Your work is essential. No other private citizen I know can do what you seemed to be able to do with such a success rate. We understand that.”