“Of course I look splendid,” his mother shot back tartly, her eyes twinkling. “I had a facial yesterday that took ten years off.”
She squeezed his hand and then indicated the chair beside the sofa where she sat. On the side table was a silver bell. She picked it up and gave it a vigorous ring. A thin woman with gray-streaked blond hair appeared at the parlor door.
Dolly had been with his mother for ten years and the two women had developed a snarky, passive-aggressive relationship that worked for them. As outwardly hostile as his mother was toward the housekeeper, Linc was certain Bettina secretly enjoyed the ongoing battle. In turn, Dolly wasn’t without a spine and often gave as good as she got. Linc didn’t understand why she stayed. Dolly could have found less stressful employment in a dozen homes.
“Linc needs a martini,” his mother proclaimed.
“No, thank you. Just some sparkling water with a lime.” He bit down on the admonition that it was too early to start drinking, knowing his mother would simply ignore him.
“I’ll have a bourbon with ice. Make sure you use the good stuff.” Before Dolly was out of earshot, Bettina turned to Linc. “She’s been giving me some swill she claims is from Grady’s distillery. As if I haven’t been drinking bourbon all my life and wouldn’t know the difference.”
Grady was Linc’s cousin on his mother’s side. Now that bourbon had been “rediscovered” by the masses, the trend seemed to be everyone with a little pocket change slapping a label on a barrel and calling it craft bourbon. Linc considered most of it swill. However, after attending one of Grady’s tasting parties, Linc had been impressed enough to back his cousin’s venture. So far, Grady hadn’t gone bankrupt, so Linc figured his cousin must be doing something right.
“Tell me about your dinner party tomorrow night,” Bettina said, turning her bright blue eyes on Linc. “Who all is invited?”
“The usual suspects. Knox, Sawyer, Austin, Roy, Grady and a few others. There will be twelve of us altogether.”
His mother reeled back in dismay. “Did you invite any girls besides your sister?” Bettina had been unhappy when he started dating London and positively mortified when they got engaged. This time around he knew she intended to steer him toward a more appropriate choice, preferably a young woman whose Charlestonian roots went as deep as his own.
“She’s promised to bring six friends so it’ll be even numbers.”
His mother had a knack for radiating displeasure without moving any of her facial muscles. “You can’t let your love life be decided by your sister’s random friends.”
“I also can’t let my love life be decided by my mother’s social aspirations for me.” He smiled to take any sting out of the words.
Bettina waved her hand as if she was shooing away a fly. “You have a duty to this family to marry well and have children who will carry on the Thurston name.”
Seriously
, Mother?
There was a time, after Linc’s father was caught embezzling and went to jail for five years, that Bettina had cursed the Thurston name. Linc wisely chose not to point this out to her.
“If you don’t ease up on my search parameters,” Linc muttered, “I’m going to die childless and alone.” He made it sound as if he was kidding, but in truth, he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to fall in love with the right woman.
Look at the mistake he’d made with London. He still wasn’t clear if what he had felt for her was love, or if she’d simply won him over with her beauty, determined personality and competitive spirit.
They’d met when he was in his late twenties and starting to lose interest in the never-ending merry-go-round of women in and out of his life. He’d spotted her at a charity event she’d organized and been drawn to her beauty. That she’d also been blessed with brains and ambition had struck the right chord with him, and within a month, they’d become exclusive.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” his mother said. “I can name a dozen women who would be perfect for you. In fact, as soon as you leave, I’m going to make a list and invite them to a party here in a couple weeks. That girl of yours is a dream...”
While his mother prattled on, Linc grappled with his discomfort over being the main event at one of Bettina’s gatherings. Part of him wanted to make his mother happy after everything she’d endured in her life, but he wasn’t about to surrender his freedom unless the woman was nothing short of spectacular.
“...Claire?”
His heart gave a little jump as his mother mentioned the young widow. “What about Claire?” Had she guessed his ever-increasing preoccupation with the woman who worked for him?
“Can I borrow her to cater the party?”
His mother’s request reminded Linc that his attraction to Claire needed to end. In any other town they could make it work, but in Charleston, where his mother was so entrenched in her family history, a Thurston and an outsider could never happen. Especially when that outsider was also his housekeeper.
“I’ll ask her if she’s willing,” he said, his tone subdued.
“Wonderful. Send her by early next week so we can discuss the menu.”
To Linc’s relief, Dolly announced lunch a few minutes later. He could tell that the wheels were spinning in his mother’s head. As the food was being served, Bettina demanded pen and paper so she could write down the list of appropriate women she intended to introduce to him.
Linc sipped tomato bisque soup and devoured curried shrimp and egg salad sandwiches in silence while his mother remarked over each woman she intended to include. Bettina made it sound as if they were candidates for him to choose from, but he knew the truth: the party would be one big husband hunt, with him, the unlucky prey.