“What do you do for a living, Daniella?”
I wanted to roll my eyes at both his calling her the unfamiliar name and his third degree. “I’m a public relations manager,” she answered. “For Brady O’Neil, the country singer.”
“Oh, I adore him!” Maribelle said. “He is my favorite coach on Fighting for the Stars!” She turned to me. “Why didn’t you bring him with you?”
I couldn’t help the curl of my lips at her drooling over someone young enough to be her grandson.
“He would have already flirted his way into your heart,” Dani told her.
Maribelle smiled, but Carson was studying her.
“There’s something familiar about you. Have we met before?” Carson asked.
“No, and stop,” I grunted at him.
Dani squinted, unhappy that I was speaking for her, but she didn’t understand Carson’s off-handed questions like I did. She didn’t understand the scrutiny that was beneath it. He was trying to pick her apart as he picked everyone apart whom I’d ever brought home.
“I used to work for Senator Matherton before Brady,” Dani replied as if I’d said nothing. “Sometimes that had me in the press.”
I didn’t want her thinking about the time she’d been the center of a media shitstorm because of Fenway. I didn’t want Carson associating her with it or making her talk about it. The tension which had been building in me since we’d arrived coursed through me. Dani seemed to sense it and laid a hand on my thigh, squeezing as if to tell me it was all fine. It did nothing but add a different kind of tension to my already tight body.
“I’m having a hard time imagining Nash ever being a child at all, but growing up here seems even more impossible,” Dani said, turning the topic with ease.
“He was quite the rascal,” Maribelle responded, her eyes twinkling at the memories. “He spent his days out in the fields, shooting anything that dared to nibble at the crops and bringing them home like a cat brings home mice. He’d come home smelling like dirt and lemon, and Baker would smell even worse.”
“Who’s Baker?” Dani asked.
“He was a Great Dane,” I responded.
My heart twisted at the thought of our old dog. He’d been my sole companion during my childhood summers. None of my friends lived out this far. They’d all lived in town, and while we’d done our fair share of harassing the inhabitants by skateboarding and bicycling past them like the little devils we were during the school year, during the summer, I’d been on my own more often than not.
Baker had been the first wedge to come between Carson and me. He’d refused to pay for the dog’s hip surgery even when I’d cried and said I’d pay him back. Instead, he’d carted him off to the western fields, shot him, and buried him. He’d said it was the most humane and economical way to handle it. But it hadn’t been humane to me or my heart to lose my best friend. It had only been economical, and it had been the first tear in the veil of adoration I’d worn with Carson’s name on it.
Silence settled again over the table, Dani easily reading the additional strain the dog’s name had brought to all of us. Another forbidden topic. Not unlike Darren being a forbidden topic to Tristan and me.
Dani finished her bowl, and I watched to see if she’d need to make a mad dash for the bathroom, but the food seemed to settle in with no ill side effects.
“That was really good,” she said.
“Do you need more?” I asked, eyeing her smile with a sense of relief.
“Yes, please.”
I got up, filled the bowl, and grinned when she dug into it with gusto.
“I see you’ve met your match,” Maribelle laughed, and the thought of Dani being my match curled through my chest happily when it shouldn’t. Couldn’t.
“My mom has always said I eat as much as my brother,” Dani said, not offended in the least. “I haven’t eaten in a day. I’m ready to have my appetite back.”
“Why have you been starving the poor girl?” Maribelle asked.
“Rude, right? How dare you not tend to my needs,” Dani said with a wink in my direction.
I choked on a spoonful of food.
“Just teasing. He tried, but I’d been poisoned, so food didn’t agree with me.”
“Poisoned!” Maribelle set her spoon down with a clatter.
The chicken and dumplings turned to ash in my mouth, and my spoon followed hers.
“You truly are here to protect her!” Maribelle added.
I wanted to roll my eyes in the way Dani was so good at doing, but I didn’t.
Dani didn’t let the topic rest there. Instead, she turned it back to Brady, and soon, she and Maribelle were chatting away about Fighting for the Stars, music, and other shows I didn’t know. Carson and I just listened. Both quiet. Both unable to bring ourselves to fill the air with simple joys of movies and songs and actors.
When we were done, I took everyone’s bowls to the sink and began washing up. An old habit. Even when we’d had live-in help, it had been my chore. Earning my keep, my mother and father had insisted. Chores kept you busy and out of trouble, had been Carson’s opinion.
“Do you play chess, Daniella?” Carson asked.
“Don’t,” I spoke a warning again over the sound of the water and the dishes.
They both ignored me.
“I do not,” she answered.
“Shame. It’s a delightful game.” Carson’s tone was charming, reeling her in. He waved a hand in my direction. “Nash refuses to play anymore.”
Her eyes journeyed to me. I could feel them burning into the back of my head with more unasked questions, but I ignored the urge to meet her look just as I refused to let Carson guilt me into playing.
“Why don’t you teach me?” Dani said. “I’ll only be here a few days, but you’d at least have someone to play with you.”
She was scolding me, and I would have laughed at the reprimand if I
