The Mirror - Page 206

On a laugh, Imogene fanned herself, fluttered her lashes. “I do believe I’m in love.”

As Owen grinned back, Cleo shook her head. “This is my grand-mère. Imogene Tamura, Owen Poole.”

“Get out” was Owen’s sincere response.

“Now I know it’s love. So this is Owen Poole who builds boats and ships. Building one for mybébé, I hear.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, there’s no ma’aming between us. It’s Imogene, or my grandbabies turned that to Magie. You pick one of those, and come over here and give me a kiss.”

Once he did, she slipped an arm through his. “Now, I believe I’m ready for a cocktail. Do you know how to mix up a whiskey sour?”

“I can learn.”

“Then I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Sonya had imagined it, and hoped for it. Seeing and feeling the manor filling up with family. Her mother chatted away with Melly, and now that her aunt and uncle had arrived with her maternal grandparents, Summer joined that chat fest. Jackson and her uncle had wandered outside with the dogs. With a glass of wine, her grandfather—an avid gardener—did the same.

At her grandmother’s request, Sonya gave her a tour of the house, or some of it, before dinner.

Louisa Bane Riley, a formidable woman, had let her hair go silver and kept it short, sharp as a blade. She wore glasses with frames of searing blue, discreet diamond studs, a straight-lined navy dress with white piping, and low-heeled Pradas.

As they toured the first floor, she made noncommittal noises, gave a few approving nods.

If Sonya knew anything, she knew her grandmother was a hard nut to crack.

But when they reached the library, Louisa stopped, held up a hand as she studied the room.

“Well.” The single word held her straitlaced Boston roots. “Well,” she repeated, and turned to Sonya. “You found your place, haven’t you?”

And the tension in Sonya’s shoulders dissolved. “Yes, I have.”

“I had my doubts, as I’m sure you know.”

“You’re nothing if not honest in your opinions, Grammy.”

“I am, and I had my doubts about the choices you’ve made in the last few months. You’re a talented young woman, Sonya, with an exceptional work ethic. I worried you’d made these choices due to your… unfortunate experience.”

“Was it unfortunate?”

Louisa’s lips curved, very slightly. “I have to forgive Tracie. She’s my grandchild. I don’t excuse her abhorrent behavior, but I have to forgive her. One day you may as well. Without excusing her, she did you a monumental favor. I dislike, more than I can say, that I was duped by thatpersonwhom I refuse to call a man. But seeing this, seeing you here, takes a bit of the sting away.”

Clover added her opinion by playing Beyoncé’s “Ring the Alarm” on the tablet.

“That’s… unusual.”

“Not around here.”

“So I’ve heard. I’ve never believed in that business.”

She brushed a hand over the desk. “Still. Your home is full of character and history, and beautiful things well cared for. By all appearances, you’re happy in both the work you’ve chosen and the direction you’ve taken with it. You’re my grandchild, and I love you, so what more could I want for you?”

“That means a lot to me, Grammy.”

“You can show me the rest later, as it’s clear that will take some time. I’ve barely said two words to the rest of your guests.”

The doorbell sounded as they started down.