Chapter Thirty-Five
Hands laced together, Jules and Rhys ambled down the corridor.
Most of the people who had been in her parents’ living room had probably left.
At least, that was her hope. A nap with Rhys had done more for her mental health than she could have expected, but even with that, she didn’t want to face a dozen attorneys.
“We’ll go this way.” She led him from the upper floor to a back stairwell that connected the living quarters to her parents’ offices and the kitchen. Abigail always joked that the back stairs were there for cheaters to sneak people in and out without anyone the wiser.
Raised voices slowed their descent. Rhys tucked her to his side, both of them eavesdropping. It didn’t sound like her parents. They didn’t bicker or fight.
“That’s Tabitha.”
He nodded, pushing his lips together to silently shush her.
He’d never struck her as the nosy type before.
If anything, he wanted nothing to do with the behind-the-scenes gossip that so often crossed their paths.
Jules avoided it as well. That they were still standing here, still listening, needled her.
Tabitha’s bitchy moments weren’t new, and she wasn’t in private, but hovering close by didn’t sit right. “We really shouldn’t—”
Rhys held up a hand.
All right. Rhys was breaking character and eavesdropping. Jules didn’t know what to do with that, but her curiosity was piqued. “Who’s she fighting with? Is that Abs?”
“What the hell are you bitching about now?” That was Abigail, and she’d interrupted Tabitha and… Who?
Rhys tugged Jules. “Let’s join the party.”
They rounded the corner to find Abigail scowling at Sloane and Tabitha. Why would Tabitha have been arguing with Sloane?
Jules tried for nonchalance, like they hadn’t just been spying on her cousin. “Surprise, surprise. It’s a hallway hangout.”
No one smiled at Jules’s banter.
“Tough crowd. What’s going on?”
Tabitha matched Abigail’s scowl, swinging her nasty expression from Sloane to Jules. “Not everyone can run upstairs for a loud screw.”
“Whoa, Tabs. What the hell is your problem?”
“Oh, look. The perfect princess grows a spine.”
Rhys’s hold on her arm flexed. Jules had had so much of Tabitha’s passive-aggressive fuckery over the years that this, graduating to face-to-face shit talking, wasn’t much of a leap.
But her saying it in front of Rhys, with everything that had happened with them over, and Abigail, who had sworn Tabitha was a first-class problem, was like pulling up a front-row chair to a trainwreck.
“Consider me shocked,” Tabitha kept going, “after all the bending over backward you’ve done to make everyone love you—”
“Have you been drinking or something? What is your problem?” Jules needed Tabitha to shut up before Rhys threw her out on her whiny ass.
“Or maybe that lack of a spine is what everyone loves.” Tabitha tilted her head to Rhys. “Is that how you got her on her knees so fast?”
Jules swatted her hand against Rhys’s chest to keep him from removing Tabitha with force, but she focused her laser-like gaze on her cousin. “Get out.”
“This isn’t helpful,” Sloane said to Tabitha at the same time.
Tabitha pushed toward Jules and Rhys. “This isn’t your house. You can’t tell me to leave.”
Abigail matched Tabitha’s movements. “It’s sure as shit not yours.”
“I’m more welcome here than either of you.”
“Get out.” Abigail grabbed Tabitha’s arm. “You need to go—”
Tabitha shook Abigail off, turning and jabbing her elbow.
“Nope.” Rhys stepped between the women as Jules shouted, jumping in front of Abigail.
Tabitha swung a wild fist toward Jules, who had enough action-scene training to know to sidestep. Tabitha grabbed her hair as Rhys yanked her back.
Jules yelled as her head snapped in the direction Tabitha pulled.
“Let go of her.” Abigail crashed between them.
“Tabitha.” Sloane jumped into the fray. “Enough.”
“Let go of her hair,” Rhys ordered.
Tabitha refused, kicking and shouting. Abigail tore at Tabitha’s fingers. Sharp pain pulled at Jules’s scalp.
Finally, Tabitha let go, panting, “No one likes you, Jules.”
Rhys wrapped an arm around Tabitha’s waist, hauling her down the hallway.
Tabitha had lost her mind. It didn’t make sense. “What’s your problem?” Jules asked.
“You get everything.” She struggled against Rhys. “Put me down.”
“It’s fine. Let her go, Rhys. Please. Let her have her say and be done with it.”
He gave Jules a hard look but set Tabitha on her feet, one hand pinned to her shoulder. “Act like an idiot again, and I don’t care what anyone says. You’re gone.”
Sloane placed herself between Tabitha, Jules, and Abigail. “It’s been a stressful day.”
“Not for Tabitha, it hasn’t,” Abigail snapped. “You’re out of your mind if you think you’re more welcome at our parents’ home than Jules.” She turned to Jules and Sloane. “I’m with Rhys. Tabitha needs a time-out. Preferably in another time zone.”
“Abigail, you’re not helping,” Jules said.
Tabitha jerked under Rhys’s hold, only stopping when her mom rounded the corner.
“Ladies, Rhys—what’s going on?”
“Tabs is having a bad day, apparently,” Abigail muttered.
“We’re just arguing,” Tabitha countered. “Families argue.”
Abigail rolled her eyes.
“I’m leaving now anyway.” Tabitha finally broke free from Rhys and turned to Sloane. “We’ll touch base later.”
Rhys escorted Tabitha down the hallway. The four women stood in silence, watching until they couldn’t hear Tabitha complaining that she could walk herself out.
Jules’s mom touched her hair. “Want to tell me what was going on?”
Jules tried to smooth it.
Abigail put her hands on her hips. “Tabitha is nuts, Mom. You know that. I know that. Sloane and Jules know that.”
“She can be misguided—”
“ Mom .”
“ Abigail . Tabitha doesn’t have anyone—”
“She’s a leech who always runs her mouth about Jules, and I’m so tired of you thinking she’s this wonderful pseudo-daughter.”
“Honey, that’s not fair.”
Sloane wrapped her arm around Abigail’s shoulders. “Forget about Tabitha. That wasn’t the first time or the last time she’ll stick her foot in her mouth.”
Abigail frowned. “You’re just saying that because she’s your client too.”
“Dad’s going to grill steaks tonight,” Mom said, changing the subject. “Everyone’s staying for dinner and is welcome to spend the night.”
Abigail’s nostrils flared. “Not Tabitha.”
“Not tonight,” Mom said. “The three of you can work this out later.” She turned a sympathetic gaze on Jules. “You’ve had a horrible day. But everyone’s safe. Insurance will replace what you lost. We will handle this together.”
“Abigail’s right, Mom,” Jules said. “Tabitha isn’t doing well, and it’s focused on me.”
“I’m not going to have this discussion without Tabitha after you had a fight.”
“It wasn’t a fight.” Jules turned to Sloane. “Why was she yelling at you?”
Sloane shrugged. “Disagreement over a publicity plan. No big deal. I was letting her vent.”
Abigail led their group down the hall.
“The daytime Emmy nominations were announced this week,” Mom added. “Tabitha’s disappointed she wasn’t included in the best supporting actress category.”
“So she calls Jules a—”
“Forget about it, Abs.”
And they would. Jules wouldn’t let Tabitha bother her tonight. She turned to Abigail. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Of course. I can take care of myself.”
They reached the kitchen. Dad wore a worn Kiss the Chef apron that Abigail and Jules had given him when they were teenagers.
“That thing needs to be thrown out.” Jules pulled out a barstool and sat.
“Never.” Dad chortled. “Just like your mother and me. We won’t stop until we fall apart.”
“That’s super healthy, Dad,” Abigail said.
But it was their family motto. Work hard, then work harder. The professional ethic had served their family well.
“You’re one to talk,” Mom said. “You almost didn’t go on the sister-moon because of a pile of invoices.”
The sisters shared looks. Their mother had no idea what had transpired in St. Barts.
“We’re slowing down,” Mom added.
No one in their family would say “retire” and not just because of that stupid stalker.
How could it be Mason? No, she couldn’t think of it right now. Jules absentmindedly scrolled through her phone. Her social media feed made her stomach turn, so she laid the phone down again.
Dad lifted a tray stacked with steaks. “Someone get the door for me. Are Rhys and Wes here?”
“I don’t know where Wes is… or, for that matter, Rhys. He should have been back by now.”
“Wes left to run an errand for me.” Abigail pulled a grape off a fruit platter on the island. “Rhys is probably ripping Tabitha a new—”
Their mom cleared her throat. “A lecture. Probably lecturing her for whatever happened.” She held up her hand to block Abigail’s explanation. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“You know who’s going to get a lecture?” Abigail snickered.
Jules groaned, already knowing what her sister would say.
“Five bucks says Rhys is going to lecture you about stepping into a fight.”
“Absolutely.” Sloane laughed. “He’s going to read you the riot act.”
Mom ignored their teasing and happily sighed. “You really like him, don’t you?”
Jules nodded. “I really do.”
“Earth to my ladies.” Dad made a bigger show of lifting the tray stacked with steaks. “Can someone get the door before I have to hear all this?”
Sloane let Dad out the French doors that led to the outdoor kitchen, then returned. She leaned against the counter opposite Jules and tapped her fingers on her lips.
“No.” Jules shook her head. “Whatever you’re trying to think of, I’m not letting you mess with it.”
“I don’t want to mess with you and Rhys.”
“Then what is that look for?”
“I could have handled things differently if I’d known where this would go.”
Abigail snorted, and Mom tittered.
“What?” Jules asked.
The corners of Sloane’s lips pulled up. “You’re right. I should have known. I did know. I just didn’t predict the timing.”