Page 62 of Free to Judge
From the depths of the mansion, Aunt Corinna is shouting at Uncle Phil to get out of her kitchen—to stop trying to steal scraps from cakes she’s carving. Aunt Holly is changing the art in the main foyer to some of her summer inspired prints. Aunt Em is in her office on the phone with an Irish lace distributor, arguing about how an increase in import tax is going to bankrupt us.
In other words, it feels like it’s going to be just another Monday. Still, I’m cautious as I make my way upstairs. I’ve yet to confront the two people who will be directly impacted by any lies I may have to tell them—Mama and Aunt Cassidy. Having not heard from my mother since lunch with my father, I have no idea if he kept his word. If he didn’t, I don’t know how I’ll be able to face them.
Once I reach my office, there’s a note pinned to the bulletin board just below my nameplate. Plucking it down, I read:
We’re in the conference room with breakfast. Join us. Not a request.
“Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” I mutter. Quickly opening my office, I dump my bags inside before I head to the conference room either to be fattened up for slaughter or to be told no harm was done in the communicating of Declan’s employment by Hudson Investigations.
Mama and Aunt Cassidy are sitting on the same side of the long mahogany table with a platter of doughnuts. They both look up when I walk in. My heart punches my ribs like a boxer warming up for a match at the calculating look in their eyes.
“There she is,” Cassidy says, waving me over. Her tone is deceptively sweet, which makes all my red flags wave like they’rebeing twirled in a parade down Main Street. She gestures for me to take a seat at the head of the table.
I frown as I slide into the chair, wondering why, if I’m about to be interrogated, I’m not across from them. Neither of them says anything, they just stare at me.
“So… how was everyone’s weekend?” I ask, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.
“Interesting,” Mama says, quirking an eyebrow. “I had an unexpected dinner…date with your father last night.”
Well, that’s that. He kept his word. I brace myself for the fallout, leaning forward and snagging a doughnut as if carbohydrates might shield me from the emotional explosion I’m anticipating. “That must have been…nice.” I try not to sound too eager or too terrified.
“It was certainly illuminating,” Mama replies, gauging my reaction.
I plow through the first doughnut, have the second shoved in my mouth, and stretch for a third before my mother reaches over and gently slaps my hand, admonishing me. “Those aren’t for you to avoid answering our questions. They’re for our guests.”
“Whaa goosts?” I chew and swallow before trying again. “What guests?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Cassidy says airily.
“I don’t have my laptop.” I stand to make a break to hide in the sanctuary of my office, but my mother’s stare pins me in place.
“You won’t need it.” Just then, the conference door opens, and my father slips inside. His eyes seek out my mother first. Hemakes a beeline for her, kissing her warmly. Well, she didn’t nut him. That’s a good sign. A sigh of relief escapes me.
Maybe things won’t be so bad after all. I cross my fingers beneath the table even as I knock on the underside of the wood.
Then my father proceeds to walk over to me, pressing his lips to my forehead and murmuring, “It will be okay. You were right, this needs to happen,” before making his way around to do the same with Aunt Cassidy, before returning to sit next to my mother. By the time he’s seated, Uncle Caleb is in the room, greeting us all in much the same manner. He takes his place next to my father.
I’m about to ask what’s happening when the door opens again. Two men enter. Both of them are dressed casually in ball caps, worn T-shirts, and faded jeans. I immediately recognize Jon, but I do a double take when I realize the second man is Declan. I’m not certain if I’m more knocked off balance because he’s not in a suit or because the casual clothing he’s wearing isn’t black. In fact, I think the worn Harvard Law T-shirt and jeans he has on belong to Jon. Both men sit next to Caleb.
I’m so stunned they’re here I almost fail to acknowledge the door opening and another couple entering the room—my cousin Laura and Liam.
Tension ratchets up when they sit across the conference room table from her twin and Declan. My gaze swings from person to person like I’m a spectator at Wimbledon. Cassidy and Mama are watching their husbands closely, waiting for them to crack under the pressure. Caleb’s jaw is clenched, his eyes locked on his daughter. Liam glares at my father. Laura, in turn, is calm as her eyes shift between her twin and the man who she may or may not remember from the broadcast during girls night.
And Declan…well, his eyes are locked on me.
The doughnut I swallowed suddenly feels like a rock in my stomach. “Well,” I start, “this is… unexpected.”
Cassidy praises her sister. “Ali thought I should understand what was going on.”
“You were right to encourage your father to speak with me, Kalie.” My mother’s voice holds an edge as she scowls at the man beside her. My father’s expression doesn’t flicker in the slightest.
Jon starts to open his mouth, but a withering glare from his mother has him snapping it shut. I can’t prevent the snicker that escapes. Even now that Jon’s some fearless special agent for Hudson, one look from his mama causes him to crumble like a dry cookie.
Declan turns on me, snarling, “This isn’t funny, Kalie.”
“Declan,” I warn him only to have my mother leap in to shield me.
“I do believe, Mr. Conian, she was laughing at her cousin being scolded by his mother. Not you, nor the situation we all find ourselves in. You don’t have to protect us from each other,” she tries to soften the reprimand.
