Page 68 of Forged By Sacrifice

The parlor was definitely a room that was used often, because it looked well lived-in versus the museum I might have expected from the outside of the house. Books and picture frames were scattered everywhere, and the furniture was not worn but had the look of being broken in. There was even a basket of knitting sitting by an easy chair. The room didn’t quite fit the elegance of the house, but it wasn’t so overly out of place to be weird. The only thing that was out of place was the huge TV that sat over the mantel instead of the mirror or painting I might have expected.

On the coffee table, that I was sure was an antique, was a tray with glasses and pitchers.

Clare sat on the sofa and patted the spot next to her. “Tea or lemonade?”

“Lemonade, please,” I responded, sticking my bulging bag of books on the floor nearby.

She handed me a glass. “Georgia, Dani tells me your family is spread all over the place.”

My turn to almost choke, and I did my best not to spray lemonade out of my lips. I swallowed hard before I responded. “If you count jail and Russia all over the place, then yes.”

“Robert—that’s Mac’s granddad—followed your father’s case closely when it first happened. Up in arms about what legislation needed to be written to prevent things like that happening in the future. He’s still in prison, then?”

There was no aversion or judgment in her tone. Much like Dani and Mac, she was so factual that I felt comforted by it. It made my heart warm to the whole family even more that there was no dripping sarcasm or disgust in her voice. I’d gotten all ranges of it whenever I talked about my dad. The finance guys adored him like he was a saint, the models didn’t know him so didn’t care, but others were ready to condemn me along with him once they heard. It had never stopped me from being honest about my family. It was better to throw it all out there and know who was going to stick and who was going to skitter away into the sunset. The sunset I’d thought Mac had skittered into until he started whispering sweet words that I couldn’t resist.

Facing his mom, I answered the question with the same truthfulness I always did. “Yes, he’s still in prison. He had so many counts against him that it’s not likely he’ll be eligible for parole for another ten years, at least.”

“Do you get to see him at all?”

I nodded. I hadn’t made the trip in a very long time, though. Neither of us cared for me to see him that way. And the truth was—as much as I knew he loved me and had fought for me in the divorce—I didn’t really know him. We wrote letters that were edited by prison officials and talked occasionally on the phone, but that was about it.

“And your mother? She’s in Russia?”

“Mom,” Mac said, coming into the room. “Do you really need to give Georgie the third degree as soon as she steps into the house?”

“If this is the third degree, I’ll take it,” I responded with a smile at his mom. “She’s just trying to get to know me.”

Mac poured a glass of sweet tea. “Who’s coming for dinner?”

He was changing the subject because he didn’t want his mom asking me about my mom. I wanted to believe it was because he was protecting me, but I also wondered if he was protecting himself.

“Gabi and Vinnie won’t be here till the morning because Vinnie had too much to do at the restaurant, but Bee and Thomas should be arriving shortly. Your grandparents said they may or may not come, depending on how Gladys is feeling.”

“What’s wrong with Grandma?” he asked, frowning.

“Just getting over a summer cold,” Clare responded. “Where’s Dani?”

“Do I look like Dani’s keeper?”

She laughed. “You’ve always been each other’s keepers.” And to me, she added, “Everyone used to think Dani and Robbie were twins.”

“Apparently, he goes by Mac full time these days,” Dani said, entering the room. She’d changed into a swimsuit and cover-up that were both sharp and eye-catching, just like Dani. The suit was cut everywhere so that there wasn’t much material left showing underneath the almost transparent cover-up. It suited her.

“Really? I thought that was just with your military friends.” Clare turned to her son with a questioning look.

“I’ve been informed that us pesky family members are the only ones who still call him Robbie. You should have seen the confusion it caused between these two.” Dani waved her hand at Mac and me.

I couldn’t help the small flush that covered my cheeks. It had been awkward finding out Mac was Dani’s brother, Robbie, but I wouldn’t have said it had confused us.

“You knew each other before you became roommates, then?” Clare asked, watching us carefully. I was suddenly aware that there wasn’t much her kids ever got past her. Like I’d never been able to get anything past my grandma.

“We met through Ava and Eli,” I told her. “When I saw Mac over the Fourth of July, I’d just rented the loft from Dani, but I had no idea that it was his apartment because I’d always known him as Mac and Dani had been calling him Robbie.”

Clare laughed. “What a meet-cute.”

Dani laughed, I swallowed, and Mac looked puzzled. “What?”

“You know, when the hero and heroine meet in a romance novel or movie. The meet-cute.”

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