You Say It First. Susan Mallery

like her mother. Eventually she’d surrendered to the fact and had tried to appreciate that despite the passing years, Libby never seemed to age. At least that was something to look forward to.

      As always, her mother wore a dark suit and a white blouse—appropriate attire for her senior vice president position. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Her makeup was light and tasteful, her jewelry elegant and simple. Pearl studs and, despite being a widow for eighteen years, a gold wedding band.

      “Thank you for being able to make lunch,” Libby said as she led the way to the small dining room.

      Pallas didn’t know what to say to that. “My pleasure” wasn’t exactly the truth and “You’re welcome” seemed oddly snarky. She settled on a noncommittal throat noise.

      As per usual, the table was set with china and crystal. Two large delivery bags sat on the sideboard. As a kid, Pallas had been so impressed to learn that any restaurant in town would happily bring in food for lunch. Now she wondered why Libby couldn’t simply go get a sandwich or bring her lunch from home like the rest of America.

      She also noted the lack of server, which was not a good sign. Not that she needed anyone plating her food—it was more that Libby didn’t want anyone else overhearing their conversation. Pallas spent a couple of seconds trying to figure out what she’d done wrong this time, before giving up. No way could she guess. Besides, Libby would tell her over and over again, when she was ready.

      “Would you like to dish us up?” Libby asked, taking her seat.

      “Sure.”

      Pallas brought the bags to the table and opened them.

      Inside the first were green salads, broiled chicken and a side of vegetables. The second bag contained bottled iced tea and one roll, along with a single, tiny square of butter. The latter were for her, Pallas thought, not sure if she should be amused or not. Libby wouldn’t eat carbs at lunch.

      Pallas put the food onto plates, and then collected ice from the small refrigerator in the corner. Her mother poured the iced tea and they sat across from each other.

      Pallas told herself that there was no need to feel defiant, yet she took two spoonfuls of salad dressing to her mother’s delicate drizzle. What was it about being around Libby that made her feel like a cranky preadolescent?

      “I’m so pleased you’ve finally finished your degree,” her mother said with a smile. “I’m sorry it took you so long, but that’s water under the bridge.”

      Pallas put her fork down and told herself to just breathe. Time would pass and she would get to leave. Or she could throw something or scream. That would work, too.

      While Libby had paid for Pallas’s college in Southern California, there had been several stipulations. First, that Pallas maintain a B+ GPA. Second, that Pallas earn her own spending money. Pallas had gotten a job working at nearby Disneyland. She’d loved it so much, she’d taken on extra hours, and in her third semester, her GPA had fallen to a B-. Within hours of finding out, Libby had sent an email explaining she would no longer be paying for college, her dorm room or anything else. Pallas was completely on her own. Permanently.

      With less than thirty dollars to her name, Pallas had been forced to return to Happily Inc and move in with a girlfriend while she figured out what to do. She’d eventually gone to work for Gerald at Weddings in a Box and had put herself through community college, then a state school. It had taken eight and a half years, but she’d done it. She was now the proud owner of a degree in finance.

      Her mother looked at her. “I assume you’ve learned your lesson.”

      “I don’t even know what that means, Mom.”

      “That you won’t be foolish again.”

      Pallas wanted to point out she’d simply gotten a C in geology. That she hadn’t been arrested, done drugs or even dated inappropriately. But there was no point. Libby wouldn’t care. The rules had been broken and there were always consequences. For everything.

      “I’m pretty sure everyone but you is foolish every now and then,” she said instead. “Regardless, yes, I have my degree.”

      “Excellent.” Her mother smiled. “Then it’s time. Pallas, I’m delighted to offer you a position here at the bank. You can start in two weeks.”

      There it was. The one thing she’d wanted since she was a little girl. The chance to work here—with her mother.

      Pallas waited for the wave of excitement or even a sense of satisfaction. Finally. Finally she would gain respectability. Stability. She would be part of the family legacy. She was thrilled. Really.

      Or not. Because in truth what she felt was...nothing.

      Her mother frowned. “What’s the problem? I thought you would be overjoyed.”

      “I am. I appreciate the offer...”

      “Do not say but to me, Pallas. I mean it. I’ve been waiting for this for almost a decade. If you hadn’t screwed around at college, you wouldn’t have wasted the last eight years of your life.”

      “It was one C, Mom. Because I was working extra hours.”

      “At Disneyland,” her mother said between clenched teeth.

      “I loved my job there and I learned a lot. For the record, I don’t consider my life a waste, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

      Libby’s expression turned impatient. “Then what is your problem? You should be jumping at this opportunity.”

      “I can’t leave Weddings in a Box in the next two weeks. I have weddings booked through September. I have employees who are depending on their paychecks.”

      “Dear God, you can’t be serious. Are any of your employees full-time? Isn’t there someone else who can handle the weddings? It’s people getting married. How hard can it be?”

      It was one thing for Pallas to wonder about making Weddings in a Box a success, but it was another to hear her mother denigrate the business. Her hackles went up and she went from mildly irritated to seriously annoyed.

      “I owe Gerald,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice low and calm. “He left me his life’s work and I am going to do my best to honor his gift.”

      “The man is dead. He doesn’t care one way or another.”

      “That’s harsh, even for you.”

      “It’s practical.” Libby’s brown eyes snapped with anger. “I absolutely can’t believe this. What is it about you, Pallas? You simply will not do what is expected. You’ve always been this way. Defiant. Stubborn. You get it from your grandfather.”

      Something Pallas had heard her whole life. She found it difficult not to roll her eyes. Plus, she really loved Grandpa Frank, so where was the bad?

      “So how long do you plan to keep that ridiculous business open?” her mother asked.

      “You may not like what I’m doing, Mom, but that doesn’t give you the right to mock Weddings in a Box. It’s a legitimate firm that makes people happy. Even you should see the value in that.”

      Libby pressed her lips together. “All right. How long do you plan to work there?”

      “I’m not sure. As I said, I have weddings booked through September. I was thinking I would sell it then.” Maybe to Alan, not that he’d ever expressed any interest in owning the company.

      “That’s a long way from now. I can’t promise there will be an opening then. Or ever.” Her mother’s stern expression returned. “This may be a one-shot deal, Pallas. Are you willing to give up everything you’ve worked for because of a worthless inheritance?”

      And there it was—the Libby-like ultimatum. She shouldn’t be surprised. Or hurt. And yet...

      “It’s