“No bark!”
They almost complied, as three dogs sat in front of the door, wiggling and whining, which the Papillons refused to interpret as barking. Brees threw open the door, ready to do the barking himself.
Standing on the porch were his mother—and Elizabeth Ricci.
Chapter Six
“Oh my.” Brees composed his expression. “What a surprise. Excuse my ferocity opening the door. I thought you were a persistent survey-taker. Uh, please come in.”
His mother smiled, although Elizabeth looked—strained. What the hell’s going on?
They walked into his living room, a spot where his mother had seldom been. Brees rushed over and collected his dishes, leaving the wine—he suspected he’d need it—and took them into the kitchen, dumped them in the sink, then returned and asked, “What can I get you to drink?”
His mother nodded toward the wineglass. “Some of that will be fine.”
Elizabeth nodded.
Brees flashed his mother a “significant” look, but she ignored him, so he strode to the kitchen and poured the wine into two glasses, picked up a couple cocktail napkins, and returned to the living room. As he walked in, Elizabeth was whispering, “It’s just not fair.” Crap, that didn’t sound good.
Trying not to freak until he knew for sure he needed to, he served the wine to his mom and Elizabeth, then returned to his spot on the couch. The three dogs hopped up beside him, watching. Plastering on a smile, he grabbed his wine and took a healthy swig. Showtime. “What brings you to my home?” He tried to make it sound gracious, not accusatory.
His mother and Elizabeth exchanged a glance. His mom leaned forward. “After you and I spoke earlier, I felt I needed a source of information that would actually tell me what’s happening, so I sought out Elizabeth, who I’ve met a few times at our home.” She smiled at Elizabeth. “You told me, Brees, that your father is demanding that you marry Elizabeth.”
Brees felt the crease pop between his brows. “Yes, which baffles me, because you don’t impress me as someone who’s going to let your father trample you to dust. You’re a friggin’ neurosurgeon, for God sake.”
Elizabeth stared at her hands. “I’m a neurosurgeon because I let my father trample me to dust.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked at him with her brows raised and her lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I wanted to be a certified clinical nutritionist and holistic physician. My father thought it would impress his clients to say his child is at the pinnacle in medicine.” She sighed. “And then tell them the child’s a girl.”
“Well shit.” He glanced up. “Excuse me.”
“Tell him, Elizabeth.” His mom leaned over and put a hand on Elizabeth’s arm.
Now what?
Elizabeth stared back at her hands. “My mother lives in a small town in Italy. When I was twelve, my father divorced her and sent her back to Europe, keeping me here with him, and took over my schooling. He continued supporting her, but she always had bad health, and losing her family made it worse. Most of her relatives in Italy have died and she’s almost alone.”
“I’m sorry to hear all this.” And he had a very bad feeling.
Her glance up speared Brees. “Yes, well now my father’s threatening to end his support of her if I don’t marry you.”
“Well hell.” He collapsed back against the couch and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Do you think he’d do it?”
“Honestly, I know my father’s behind this whole scheme and your father’s just going along.” She wiped both palms over her face. “I’m in love with a man and my father doesn’t approve of his family. They’re not the right class of Italian, according to him. He’ll do anything to keep me away from him and them. And of course, he’s anxious for the acquisition to go through. The marriage gives him everything he wants.”
“And my father’s willing to support his megalomania.” It wasn’t a question.
His mother said, “You know how badly he wants that technology.”
“Yeah, and he doesn’t care how many lives he wrecks to get it.” He looked at Elizabeth wearily. “No offense, but I assume you know I’m gay.”
She nodded. “And now you know that I’m in love with another man.”
He swallowed hard. “I imagine there’s no quickie Vegas divorce built into this arrangement.”
“I’m sure he’ll write into the contract that we have to stay together for some period of time. Maybe forever.”
Seconds dragged on and nobody spoke.
Finally, his mother said, “I know that Elizabeth will do anything to protect her mother.” She sighed. “I think the ball’s in your court, Brees.”
He felt the muscle jump in his jaw. “Why can’t you support your mother, Elizabeth?”
She nodded. “I likely can in a few years, but I’m not a neurosurgeon in Italy, and until I finish residency, I’m not one here either. My mom’s pretty sick. Plus, I’ll be frank. I’m not sure how far my father’s willing to go to keep me away from Paolo, but it could be—” She took a breath. “—far.”
“Paolo’s the guy?”
She nodded.
First instinct? Scream! Why the fuck did it become his job to throw his future away to save everybody else? Hell, he was willing to tell his father to suck eggs, get written out of the will, and walk away from everything Apollonia. But could he walk away from all things Ricci? “I’m going to have to think. If it was just me …” He shrugged and sighed at the same time. “But no matter who’s involved, it’s still every aspect of my love life being obliterated and I can’t do that thoughtlessly.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I understand that.”
His mother looked more freaked than Elizabeth, which pissed him off. She said, “You have to make a decision soon.”
He stood abruptly. “I get that, Mother.”
“Woof.” Empress jumped down beside him and the two others followed.
A tendon in his mother’s jaw mimicked the one in his, but she nodded and rose, with Elizabeth standing beside her. He escorted them to the door. By the time they got there, he’d calmed down a little. “I’m attending a dog show from Thursday through Sunday. I’ll do my thinking while I’m there. I’ll tell my father that I can’t make a decision until Monday. I’ll let you know Sunday night after I return.”
“Such a long time.” His mother pressed a hand to her throat.
“I’ll tell father. He won’t blame anyone but me. He’ll have to accept my decision, and I think he knows I’m perfectly willing to walk away, so he’ll take the fact that I’m considering my answer as good news.”
“All right, Brees.” Back ramrod straight, she walked down the porch stairs and to her car, which was parked in front of his house.
Elizabeth said, “I understand how hard this is.”
He half smiled. “At least I’m not in love.”
She nodded and tears sprang to her eyes. Sadly, she turned and walked to the car.