A giggle bubbled up from Hannah’s throat. “Yeah, it kind of did, didn’t it?” she admitted. “But I am glad he found you, Scarlett. And not just because of the bone marrow donation. Because I really, really like you, even though we’ve only known each other a few hours. And I’m looking forward to getting to know you a lot better. Uncle Jack’s already given me your cell number and email address so I hope you don’t mind if we keep in touch.”
“I’d be pissed off if we didn’t,” retorted Scarlett with a grin. “So, yeah, for sure we’ll keep in close touch. The next few months are going to be nuts for me with school and finals and my senior thesis so I might not reply back to you right away, but I’ll do the best I can. I’ve never been much of a communicator, and I suck at social media but maybe you can help me with that, hmm?”
Hannah nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely! And it’s so exciting that you’re going to be an architect! What kind of stuff do you like to design best?”
Coincidentally, at that very moment, Jackson turned to her and asked, “Scarlett, what’s your opinion about the best type of building material for this project? As usual, my father and I can’t agree and Neil insists this is out of his area of expertise?”
“Huh?”
She belatedly became aware that Jackson was speaking to her, and a quick glance down the table revealed that all eyes were on her suddenly.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Hannah and I were chatting and I didn’t hear what you were discussing. Can you run that by me again?”
Jackson quickly summarized what he, his father, and Neil had been debating, and she nodded briskly in understanding. And even though she sensed that her opinion was probably the very last thing either of the other men were interested in hearing, she gave it anyway - clearly, concisely, and with a confident expertise that earned her a proud grin from Jackson.
“Told you she’d know right away,” he bragged to his father. “Too bad that hotshot architect you grossly overpay gave you bad info, Dad. You should really think about changing firms after all these years. Fischer and Tolbert are hopelessly behind the times, haven’t designed anything really innovative in years.”
Barton scowled. “They’ve done just fine for us for the past two decades. And both of the senior partners are good friends of mine, so there’s no possibility of changing firms. Besides, what makes you think her opinion is the right one? She hasn’t even graduated yet. You think you’re capable of handling a project this big, Scarlett?”
She shrugged, ignoring the derisive tone of his question. “Haven’t seen the specs or the design or know enough about it to make that sort of call,” she replied calmly. “And big luxury homes aren’t at all what I’m interested in designing. That sort of construction isn’t going to be sustainable for very long. Nearly all of the new design trends are for smaller spaces, using recycled and reclaimed materials, everything energy efficient.”
Barton gave a little grunt of disgust. “Like those tiny houses Jackson mentioned to me? That’s a fad, nothing more. A trend that will disappear in a couple of years. I’ve seen those sort of fads come and go more times than I can count.”
“Tiny homes, yes, but also accessory dwellings. Granny flats, ADU’s, in-law units, whatever you want to call it. Maybe there’s not much need for those sort of structures here in Arizona, but in large cities like San Francisco and Seattle where there’s an urgent need for housing and little to no room to build, there’s a huge market, huge demand. And like it or not, that is the future. Modular and pre-fab, too, which keeps costs down and speeds up the construction time. And that’s not just my opinion. My professors talk about this stuff all the time, and there’ve been countless articles on the subject in Architectural Digest and other publications.”
The conversation continued for several more minutes, with Scarlett becoming more and more animated as she delved deeper into a subject she was supremely confident in. It was actually rare for her to talk this much in a group, to more or less be the center of attention, and she tried not to feel intimidated or ill at ease.
A quick glance around the table revealed Jackson grinning at her proudly, Hannah regarding her intently, and Candace with her usual polite smile (Scarlett wondered if that expression was permanently frozen onto her face). Barton looked both aggrieved but also grudgingly respectful, while Neil seemed taken aback at her level of knowledge and confidence.
Predictably, Laura looked even more miserable than she had before, her eyes shimmering with tears and her mouth trembling a little as she kept her gaze focused on her plate. Scarlett had learned from Jackson that neither Laura nor her two sisters-in-law had anything at all to do with the family business, that Barton and his two older sons didn’t think the women needed to be involved. If Laura had already harbored anger and resentment towards Scarlett simply for being Neil’s daughter, by now she was probably ready to boil over with rage at knowing this unwelcome intruder was easily able to hold her own with the men when it came to discussing construction and architecture, things she had always been told didn’t concern her.
Hannah grinned at her half-sister. “Wow, you really know a lot about this stuff, don’t you? Grandpa, you ought to just hire Scarlett to work for the company when she graduates. Sounds like you could use someone with her ideas.”
“No!”
The outburst had come not from Barton but instead from Laura, startling not just Scarlett but apparently everyone else at the table.
Laura surged to her feet, her thin frame visibly trembling and tears trickling down her cheeks. She pointed a finger at Scarlett almost accusingly.
“It’s bad enough that we’re all being forced to suffer her presence here at the dinner table,” she choked. “Something I thought was in extremely bad taste considering the circumstances - being forced to break bread with my husband’s bastard daughter. I can’t believe my own parents would allow such a thing. And I know she saved Hannah’s life and I am grateful. But why couldn’t she just have remained anonymous? Why is she being shoved in my face? And now, even the very suggestion that she take a job with the company - a job, by the way, that I’ve never been offered is - well, just too much to take. Neil, I think we’d better leave. Hannah, get your things.”
Hannah shook her head stubbornly. “No. I haven’t finished my dessert yet. And you’re being so rude right now, Mom. Like it or not, Scarlett’s related to me. She’s my half-sister, no matter how much you want to deny it. And I fully intend to keep in touch with her, to make up for all of the lost years. So don’t go freak out on us, huh? Frankly, we’re all a little tired of you being such a drama queen so give it a rest.”
Laura gasped, pressing a hand to her heart as she paled alarmingly. “Oh, my, God,” she whispered. “I can’t believe my own child would say such awful things to me. How - how dare you!”
Hannah shrugged. “Well, you’ve been awful to Scarlett all night, giving her the side eye and looking like you want to stick your dinner knife between her ribs.”