Riptide (Sam McRae Mystery 3)

Pulling herself upright, Lisa faced me.

“Enough of the bullshit. Junior knocked me up. Now he’s marrying me. He’ll work for my father’s business. And we’ll babysit him.”.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Junior chose this moment to wander in and cross the room. Still in his blue trunks, sans erection.

“Hi, honey,” he mumbled, sinking into the reading chair.

“Hi, stupid.”

How delightful.

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“How do you mean?” Lisa asked.

“It’s not like you’re showing. You could get an abortion. Or give the child up for adoption. Or are you keeping the child as a matter of principle?”

Lisa smiled. The expression didn’t reach her eyes. In fact, it seemed to take effort. She crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap.

“What we have here is a business arrangement,” she said.

“Oh, really?” Bower, Sr., smirked. “Was it business you were conducting when you seduced him?”

“Seduced him? Have you seen that guy go to work? Jesus, Daddy-O, he makes the average rabbit look like a fucking monk.”

“How dare you use profanity—”

“Oh, can it! I’ll use whatever words I want.” Lisa was in high dudgeon. “Remember, my father has agreed to take him off your hands. He’s giving him a job in his firm.”

Bower, Sr., looked at me. “Fennimore Real Estate is one of the biggest realtors and developers on the Eastern Shore. You could say we have mutually agreeable interests. See, Junior didn’t exactly graduate magna cum anything.”

“He flunked out,” Lisa explained.

Bower grimaced. “Anyway. This opportunity arose for Lisa’s father to do me the favor of providing Junior with a job. And Lisa’s father is a bit old-fashioned.”

“He doesn’t believe in abortion,” I ventured.

Lisa pouted. “He doesn’t believe in giving his daughter free access to money without a husband. In order to tap into my trust fund, I have to marry. Since I succumbed to Junior’s charms in a moment of weakness.” She actually blushed, then recovered. “Anyhow, looks like I have more than one reason to marry now.”

My mind reeled. Yeah, and probably more than one trust fund to bleed.

“Sooo … ” I said. “When’s the wedding?”

“In a couple of weeks. A small private ceremony.” Lisa smiled, demurely. “Can’t wait. Right, hon?”

She’d directed her words to the reading chair, but no response was forthcoming.

“I’ve told Lisa and Junior I’ll cover their honeymoon to Tuscany or the Riviera or Acapulco,” Bower, Sr., stated. “A cruise. Whatever they want. When they get back, Junior will start his new job as a real estate agent with Fennimore Realty. A job where he can learn to handle responsibility.”

“And make a pile of dough,” Lisa added.

Bower Sr., shot me a pained smile. “Junior needs discipline. He needs structure. He needs a guiding hand, a mentor. Fennimore will serve him well in that role. He’ll teach him the real estate business, inside and out.”

Lisa coughed. “My father and I will provide babysitting services.” She snickered again.

Bower’s face darkened. He looked sidewise at Lisa, but he didn’t argue. “I know I’ll be able to count on Lisa to keep Junior straight.”