With an effort, she thrust away her dark thoughts.
“Sorry,” Remi automatically apologized. It was something she did a lot when she was in her childhood home. “I had an appointment this morning.”
Liza nodded, watching Remi as she shrugged out of her coat and hooked it on a coatrack in the corner. In silence, they entered the second arched opening that led to the dining room. In the center of the room was a long, glossy table with a dozen matching chairs. The walls were paneled and decorated with a collection of charcoal etchings that depicted Chicago from the mid-eighteen-hundreds to the nineteen-fifties. They’d been commissioned by her great-grandfather. Remi had heard a friend of her mother’s say that they were worth a fortune, but Remi didn’t care about their value. She just liked them. Overhead was a large chandelier that had been brought over from Italy by some distant ancestor, and beneath her feet was a Persian rug that had been a gift from a diplomat from one of the Middle Eastern countries.
Her mother moved directly to a heavy sideboard that had a full bar setup. She poured herself a glass of her favorite wine. “I hope your appointment wasn’t at that center,” Liza said. “That neighborhood isn’t safe.”
It was a familiar argument. Her mother wanted Remi to get a job at a nice private school. Understandable. The youth center was in a dangerous neighborhood.
“No, I wasn’t at the center,” Remi assured her.
Liza sipped her wine, waving a hand toward the bottles on the sideboard. “Do you want a drink?”
Remi shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“Then I suppose we might as well get started.” Liza moved to take her seat at the head of the table.
Remi followed to take her place on her mother’s right, unfolding the linen napkin and laying it across her lap as her mother rang a small bell. Instantly, a middle-aged woman appeared with lunch on a silver tray.
Remi felt a pang of guilt as she caught sight of the beef stroganoff and homemade bread on the delicate china plate. Her mother knew it was her favorite. Sometimes, Remi was so busy looking for her mother’s disappointment in her that she forgot to see the tiny acts of love.
“How was your gala?” Remi asked between bites of savory noodles and the melt-in-the-mouth bread.
“Successful.” Liza polished off her wine while barely tasting her lunch. “We raised over twenty-thousand dollars for the Chicago Police Memorial Fund.”
“Oh.” Another stab of guilt sliced through Remi. “I didn’t realize that was the charity you were promoting. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
Liza shrugged. “I didn’t really expect you to attend.”
Remi ignored the unmistakable lack of interest whether she was there or not. The stress of Ash’s sudden arrival, not to mention the fear the Butcher had returned to Chicago, was making her more irritable than usual. Plus, it’d nearly made her forget that she had a delicate subject she wanted to discuss with her mother.
Taking another bite of bread, Remi wiped her mouth and considered her words. “Have you made plans for the holidays?” she asked at last.
Her mother arched a brow. “I assume you’ll be here for Christmas dinner?”
“Yes,” Remi quickly assured the older woman. “But I thought you might enjoy spending a few days with Uncle Lawrence in Palm Beach. I know he invited you.”
“How do you know?”
Remi blinked. “Excuse me?”
“How do you know Lawrence invited me to Florida.”
“He called me.”
With a smooth motion, Liza was on her feet. “So you and my brother have been talking behind my back.”
Remi watched her mother move to the sideboard to pour herself another glass of wine. Remi wasn’t entirely certain what had happened between Liza and her younger brother, Lawrence Harding, although she suspected it had something to do with their inheritance. Liza had ended up with the lion’s share of the estate, plus a trust fund that ensured she never had to worry about money. But neither of them ever discussed the frosty relationship.
In fact, Remi couldn’t remember the two of them speaking until her father had been murdered. Lawrence and his wife had traveled from Florida to Chicago to stay with Liza, clearly concerned when Liza had retreated to her bedroom, refusing to attend Gage’s funeral.
It’d taken months before Liza had shaken off her deep depression and returned to her normal routine. At the time, Remi had been grateful to her uncle for being there to offer her support, but once Liza had decided to crawl out of her bed, the older woman had insisted Lawrence and his wife leave her home.
“He’s worried,” Remi told her mother. Lawrence had called Remi last week, urging her to convince Liza to spend a few days at their beach house.
Liza frowned. “Why would he be worried?”
“He believes you’re lonely.”
Liza narrowed her gaze, clearly offended. “I’m not lonely. I have a very full life.”
“That’s what I told him,” Remi said in soothing tones. “Still, it might be nice to get away from the cold for a week or so.”
“I have too much to do.” Liza curled her lips as she took a sip of her wine. “Besides, your aunt has that obnoxious dog she treats like a child. I can’t abide being covered in fur and listening to its constant yaps.”
Remi had to agree with her mother. She loved Buddy, but her aunt’s dog was obnoxious. He’d peed on the carpet, tried to bite Remi when she’d taken him out for a walk, and barked from dusk to dawn. No one had been sad when they’d taken the tiny beast back to Florida.
“Okay.” Remi sucked in a breath and prepared herself to make the ultimate sacrifice. “If you don’t want to go to visit Uncle Lawrence, I’ll come and stay with you for the holidays.”
Liza was clearly caught off guard by Remi’s offer. But instead of being pleased, she looked . . . flustered.
“Don’t be silly.” She abruptly drained the wine before setting aside the empty glass. “You don’t have to drop everything to babysit me. I’m fine.”
Remi studied her mother. Usually, the older woman was far better at disguising the fact that she had no desire for her daughter to be underfoot.
What had her rattled? Maybe a new man in her life?
Remi didn’t know if the thought pleased or horrified her. “Okay.” Feeling strangely off-balance, Remi rose to her feet and grabbed her empty dishes. “If you change your mind—”
“What are you doing?” her mother interrupted with a frown.
Remi glanced down at the plates in her hands. “Taking these into the kitchen.”
Liza clicked her tongue. “How many times must I tell you that there’s no need? I pay my housekeeper an outrageous sum to take care of me and my guests.”
Remi resisted the urge to continue into the kitchen. Annoying her mother was all too easy and something she was trying to avoid. Wasn’t she? “Okay. Thanks for lunch,” she said, placing the plates back on the table. “I’ll call you later in the week.”
She walked out of the dining room and into the foyer. Grabbing her coat, she was just pulling it on when her mother appeared in the entrance.
“Remi, be careful,” the older woman said without warning.