Wrong Place, Wrong Time (Pete 'Monty' Montgomery 1)
“No,” Blake interceded. “It isn’t. And it shouldn’t be for you, either. Jack Daniel’s wasn’t on the list your cardiologist gave you.”
Edward snorted. “If I followed that list, I’d die of boredom. I’d rather take my chances with life.”
“Suit yourself.” Blake met his grandfather’s gaze head-on. “I need to speak with you.”
“About my drinking habits? No thanks. I don’t need a lecture.”
“It has nothing to do with that. But it’s important.”
Edward’s brows shot up. “I’m listening.”
“Not here. In private. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
“All right.” Edward rose and set down his glass. “Let’s go to my office.”
Blake nodded, and the two men left the room.
Silence hung behind them.
“Great,” James muttered, reaching for his gin and tonic. “More drama. Just what we need.”
His grandmother gave him a reproving look that screamed don’t-air-our-dirty-laundry-in-front-of-strangers. He got the message loud and clear, and bit back whatever else he’d been about to say.
Another silence, this one more uncomfortable than the last.
The clock in the hall chimed five.
“I wonder what’s keeping Cassidy,” Anne murmured. “She was due here a half hour ago.”
“She’s probably tied up in a meeting,” Louise surmised. She turned to give Devon a cool, inquisitive look. “You take Mondays off?”
“Not usually, no,” Devon replied, taking the glass of ice water Albert handed her and nodding her thanks. “Today’s an exception. I needed a break.”
“I’m not surprised. You’ve had quite a hectic week.” Sarcasm laced Louise’s tone. She didn’t wait for Devon’s reaction, but averted her gaze, glancing from James to Anne. “Excuse me a moment. I’d like to freshen up for dinner.” She breezed out of the room and headed for the powder room.
“I’ll call Cassidy and make sure she’s on her way,” Anne announced. She eased to her feet, her sharp blue eyes flickering over Devon as if she were invisible, then fixing on James, silently ordering him to control himself. “I asked Frances to have dinner on the table at six so we can make it an early night.”
“Thanks, Grandmother,” James responded. “I appreciate it. I’m beat.”
“I realize that.” Anne laid a hand on his shoulder as she passed by. “You’ll rest tomorrow. The plane will take you back to the competition tomorrow night.” She paused, glancing back at Devon almost against her will. “You and Blake will stay for dinner.” It wasn’t a request. “I assume you like chicken.” Without waiting for an answer, she went down the hall.
“So, it looks like it’s just you and me,” James observed. He indicated the now empty sofa across from him. “Have a seat. My headache’s too bad to get into anything heavy. Besides, there’s already enough tension in this room to blow the roof off.”
Skeptically, Devon perched on the edge of the sofa.
A corner of James’s mouth lifted. “You look like a frightened bird about to take flight. Like I said, the fireworks are over. Last night was the emotional scene. Today’s the dawn of a new day. New beginnings and all that.” He sipped his drink. “Did you intend to stay for dinner, or did my grandmother just put a crimp in your plans?”
Devon kept her expression nondescript. “No crimp. Blake and I didn’t have any ironclad plans. Besides, I’d enjoy seeing Cassidy again.”
“Cassidy. Right.” James gestured for Albert to fix him another drink. “Any idea why Blake was so hell-bent on talking to my grandfather?”
“You’ll have to ask him.”
“Did you?”
“No.” Devon shook her head. “I make it a point not to interfere. Whatever Blake has on his mind is between him and your grandfather.”
“How magnanimous of you.”