Family Sins

Jack shoved his hand through his hair again and then rang for the cook as his niece left the room. He was in no mood for a social evening with Nita’s latest lover. She’d brought this one with her from New York but at least had the good sense to put him up in a hotel in town. Last time she’d brought a lover home from one of her travels, she’d put him up in the mansion and he’d stolen some of the family silver when he left.

Nita was all but bouncing on her toes as she strode down the hall toward the foyer. She had just turned fifty, but she would never admit it. She was a sexual woman and unwilling to live her life without a man in tow. She heard the butler answer the door, then heard Andrew Bingham’s voice and shivered, thinking about how good he was in bed.

He met her with a smile and a kiss midway between the foyer and the dining room.

“Um, peach pie?”

She smiled. “À la mode.”

He groaned. “Dessert and you? My day just keeps getting better.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Well, the day has gone to hell for us,” she said, and slid a hand through the crook of his arm and led him back down the hall.

“I heard,” he said. “I assume the mood is less than jovial tonight.”

“You’ve got that right. Just don’t bring it up. Brag on the coffee, instead. It’s one of Uncle Jack’s favorite blends.”

“Will do,” he said, and then they walked into the dining room.

“Good evening, all. Hope I’m not too tardy. I hear the peach pie à la mode is amazing tonight.”

Fiona smiled politely.

“Do join us. Cook outdid herself tonight on the crust.”

“Good evening, Andrew. You almost missed dessert,” Jack muttered.

“It took a while to get through all the traffic,” Andrew said, and then looked nervous, realizing that was something he shouldn’t have mentioned.

“What traffic?” Blake asked.

Andrew looked at Nita and shrugged an apology. “The traffic outside your front gate.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Blake said.

“The, uh, crowd of people. I might have seen a few picket signs.”

Blake abruptly stood. “There are people picketing outside our front gate?”

Nita sighed and took another spoonful of ice cream before it melted.

Afraid to take a bite of pie for fear someone would slap it out of his mouth, Andrew put his hands in his lap and nodded.

“What the fuck do the signs say?” Justin asked.

“I only got a glimpse of one. It might have said something about being above the law.”

“I’m going to call Henry Clayton,” Blake snapped. “What the hell good did it do putting him in office if he can’t protect us?”

He stomped out of the room.

Jack threw his napkin down on the table and followed him out.

The rest of them looked at each other in disbelief.

Andrew pulled the dessert plate closer and took a big bite, just in case it was the only one he got.

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