The Sassy One
Page 22

Brenna grinned. “Somewhere in the neighborhood of a million dollars.”
Francesca nearly fell out of her chair. Katie gasped.
“Don’t look so shocked,” Brenna told them. “I would have to start big. Wine making is no longer a business for the gentleman farmer. Small wineries are failing left and right, or being bought by larger concerns. I would need to be big enough to survive.”
“A million dollars?” Francesca said, hardly able to comprehend that much money. “What would the loan payment be?”
“You don’t want to know.” Brenna took a piece of bread and tore it in half. “Actually I don’t want to know, either. Like I said, I haven’t decided what I’m doing. Right now it’s just a fantasy.”
Katie patted her arm. “If you decide to go for it, I’m good for a few thousand. Although when compared with a million, that doesn’t seem like much.”
“Keep your money,” Brenna told her. “You’re going to need it when you start popping out babies.”
Katie laughed. “We’re not even married yet.”
“I’ve heard women can get pregnant before marriage these days,” Francesca said. “Isn’t science wonderful?”
Katie threw a roll at her. “Very funny. Zach and I want to wait about a year before getting started on the whole family thing. We want to enjoy each other.”
Brenna looked at Francesca. “Sex. She’s talking about sex.”
“I know.” Francesca grinned. “Where are you going on your honeymoon?”
“Zach’s mentioned Tahiti.”
“One of those all-nude resorts?” Brenna asked.
“What is with you?” Katie shook her head. “I don’t want to spend my honeymoon naked.” She frowned. “Well, that came out wrong. Let me rephrase it. I don’t want to spend my honeymoon naked with anyone other than Zach.” She turned to Francesca. “And speaking of naked, what on earth is going on in your life?”
Francesca nearly choked on the bit of bread she’d just swallowed. She had a bad feeling she was blushing.
“I’m not naked.”
“Maybe not, but you brought a twelve-year-old girl to the house. From what the Grands told me, you’re dating the girl’s father. Is this true? Do I have to hear about that kind of gossip from my grandmothers rather than my sister herself?”
“You’ve been busy,” Francesca pointed out. “It’s not like you’ve been calling me every fifteen minutes.”
“You get crabby when I do that,” Katie said. “So start talking.”
The waitress arrived with their salads. Fajita chicken for Katie and Francesca, a Cobb for Brenna.
“Oh, please. Let me,” Brenna said with a grin. “I want to tell her.”
Francesca shrugged. “Feel free.”
Brenna leaned toward Katie and lowered her voice. “Remember a couple of months ago, when we all got drunk and admitted to wanting to sleep with Nic Giovanni?”
Katie held up a hand. “Excuse me, but we all agreed we wanted to sleep with him back in high school. Not today. There’s a difference.”
“Whatever,” Brenna said. “Anyway, we were both bugging Francesca about finding some guy and getting involved.”
“Right. We made her promise to sleep with the next normal, single man that she—” Katie’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t actually do that, did you?”
Francesca popped a piece of chicken in her mouth and chewed.
Katie turned to Brenna. “She did?”
“Apparently. She met this guy while on one of her experiments.”
Katie winced. “Not the tattooed biker chick.”
“No. It’s worse. She was pregnant. They talked, she came clean about her disguise, and then they had sex.”
Francesca swallowed. “We went out to dinner, and I did not sleep with him on the first date.”
Both her sisters looked at her. She sighed. “It was the second date, okay?”
Kate and Brenna laughed.
“Well, then,” Brenna said. “It’s perfectly fine. The second date.”
Francesca refused to be embarrassed or apologize. “It just happened. I didn’t mean it to, but I can’t regret it. Sam is really great.”
Katie looked surprised. “Miss ‘I never want to be married again’ isn’t changing her mind, is she?”
“Absolutely not. Sam is in complete agreement with me on that, too. We’re both looking for a monogamous relationship with no risk of too much emotional involvement. He doesn’t want to get married again any more than I do.”
“They’re basically talking about cheap, easy sex and idle chitchat,” Brenna said. “Honest to God, it sounds perfect.”
“I don’t think so,” Katie said. “Where’s the romance in that?”
Francesca looked at her twin. “Ever the soft-hearted one.”
“Not soft-hearted,” Katie protested. “Practical. Do you really think you can have a physically intimate relationship with a man without falling for him?”
“Absolutely,” Francesca said. “I’ve been married. Todd wasn’t the devil, at least not on purpose, but there was very little I liked about being married. And look what Brenna gave up for Jeff.” She touched Brenna’s arm. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Brenna said. “You’re right. I’ve been beating myself up about it ever since he walked out on me. Katie, you were the smart one. You waited to get married until you found the right guy. You fell for Zach and I think it’s great. But neither Francesca nor I is interested in a walk down the aisle again.”
Katie didn’t look convinced. “I’m not sure it’s possible to avoid emotional bonding. What happens if you fall for him? It could get complicated. Especially with him having a daughter. You’ve always wanted kids. And you love to rescue people.”
“Sam is not in need of rescuing,” Francesca said firmly. “And I’ll admit that the kid thing could be a problem, but I will just make sure I don’t bond with either of them. Sam and I want to keep this completely uncomplicated.”
“Life doesn’t always let you choose,” Katie reminded her. “Be careful.”
Francesca laughed. “We’re using condoms. How much safer could we be?”
Teen-zilla had returned, Sam thought on Monday morning. There had been nearly ten days during which he’d thought having a kid around wasn’t such a bad thing. But he’d been wrong.
“She smells,” Kelly hissed. “And she’s weird-looking.”
Sam stood in front of the bathroom mirror and tucked his tie under his shirt collar.
“She doesn’t smell,” he told his daughter, although he’d noticed some sort of decaying plant smell whenever he was around Doreen. As for her not looking normal, Sam thought she was fine. Okay, her glasses were a little thick, and there was something strange about her mouth, but he wasn’t interested in her appearance, just her skills.
“She’s been working with children for twenty years,” he told Kelly as he looped around the narrow end of his tie. “She has a clean driving record, no tickets in three years, she’s bonded and highly recommended. If you want to get to ballet class, she’s your ride.”
“I put up with her for all of last week. I gave her a chance. She’s horrible. She doesn’t talk at all. She has no sense of humor, and she never takes me anywhere but class and home. I asked about going to the movies or the mall, and she just said no.”
Sam didn’t like the sound of that. “You’re allowed to go places after class,” he said. “I never meant to keep you locked up.” Not really. “I’ll talk to her when I go downstairs. I’m sure once she understands that it’s all right, you can start doing more fun things in the afternoon.”
“I’d rather be alone than with her.”
Kelly glared at him in the mirror. She was already dressed for her dance class, in a black leotard, tights, and a short skirt. Her feet were turned out in the classic “ballerina” position—heels together, toes pointing away from the body. It ma de his back hurt just to look at them.
“And I’m too old for a baby-sitter,” she said, her voice low but filled with fury. “Just get me a driver and a car and I’ll be fine. Any car. A Town Car, even. I don’t need a limo.”
He adjusted the tie one last time and reached for his jacket. “Good to know that you’re so flexible, but I’m not getting you a car.”
“You don’t have to buy it, you could just rent it or something.”
“No.”
“I don’t want Doreen around here. She’s creepy.”
“Then you’re not going to ballet class, and you’re going to spend the day in my office because I’m not leaving you home by yourself.”
Kelly’s green eyes practically spit fire. “I knew you were going to say that,” she told him. “You’re so difficult. You never think about what’s right for me.”
If only, he thought grimly. “I think about that all the time. Unfortunately our definitions are different. If Doreen is abusive in any way, then I’ll not only fire her butt, I’ll have her arrested. Until then, you’re stuck, kid.”
“Why can’t Francesca take care of me? She’s totally cool.”
He thought so, too. Unfortunately between Kelly, his workload, and Francesca’s need to finish the outline for her dissertation, he’d only been able to see her a couple of times in the past week, and both of those had been at a dinner chaperoned by his daughter. Not exactly the romantic, sexy, sensual relationship he’d envisioned.
“Francesca has her own life. She’s given you more than enough of her time. I’m not going to ask her to cart you around.”
Kelly folded her arms over her chest. “This isn’t making me like you.”
He figured the fact that she hadn’t called him a bastard and run out of the room meant they were making progress.
“You’re not supposed to like me,” he said. “I’m your parent, not your friend.”
Her gaze narrowed. “You’ve been reading stuff, haven’t you. You didn’t come up with that sentence on your own.”
He was saved from answering by the sound of the doorbell. Doreen was downstairs and would probably answer it, but even so he walked through his bedroom into the hallway. He didn’t usually have visitors at nine in the morning.
Kelly pushed past him and raced down the stairs. She ran to the foyer and spoke to Doreen, who retreated to the kitchen. Francesca entered the house.
Sam’s initial reaction of pleasure turned to curiosity when he saw Kelly hug Francesca.
“You came,” his daughter said as he approached. “You have to save me.” She lowered her voice. “Doreen is awful!”
Curiosity turned to annoyance when he figured out his daughter had called in her version of the cavalry.
Francesca pulled one of Kelly’s red curls. “You barely know the woman.”
“She smells funny,” Kelly whispered.
The corner of Francesca’s mouth twitched. She glanced at Sam. “Ah, the executive look. The power suit is very flattering.”
“Unfortunately I don’t have much power in my own home.” He narrowed his gaze. “Kelly, did you call Francesca and ask her to take you to class?”
Teen-zilla rolled her eyes. “Well, duh. I can’t face a whole summer with her—” She pointed toward the kitchen. “I had to do something. I just knew you weren’t going to get me my own car.”