Upstairs Downstairs Baby. Cat Schield
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That was why as soon as he signed his first pro contract, Linc had made sure to set his mother up in the sort of Charleston house that would provide Bettina the level of comfort her mother had known growing up. The Mills-Forrest House was located on King Street, South of Broad. Built in 1790, it had been extensively restored and renovated by Knox Smith to provide Bettina with the best blend of historic charm and modern function.
Knox was Linc’s best friend. A real estate developer, he’d worked hard on transforming the city of Charleston to its former glory. During their twenties, the two bachelors had spent a significant amount of time tearing up the town and breaking hearts. They’d been quite the dynamic duo.
Twenty minutes later, as he entered his mother’s parlor, Linc was once again struck by a wave of gratitude that he could do this for her. She was in her element, holding court from a comfortable chintz armchair by the fireplace.
“Good afternoon, Mother. You look splendid today.” Linc crossed the room and bent down to kiss Bettina’s soft cheek.
He lingered a second and inhaled her rose perfume, smiling at the memory of snuggling on her lap when he was young. Even after his sister came along and monopolized their mother’s time, Bettina always made sure she hugged her son before he went to bed.
“Of course I look splendid,” his mother shot back tartly, her eyes twinkling. “I had a facial yesterday that took ten years off.”
She squeezed his hand and then indicated the chair beside the sofa where she sat. On the side table was a silver bell. She picked it up and gave it a vigorous ring. A thin woman with gray-streaked blond hair appeared at the parlor door.
Dolly had been with his mother for ten years and the two women had developed a snarky, passive-aggressive relationship that worked for them. As outwardly hostile as his mother was toward the housekeeper, Linc was certain Bettina secretly enjoyed the ongoing battle. In turn, Dolly wasn’t without a spine and often gave as good as she got. Linc didn’t understand why she stayed. Dolly could have found less stressful employment in a dozen homes.
“Linc needs a martini,” his mother proclaimed.
“No, thank you. Just some sparkling water with a lime.” He bit down on the admonition that it was too early to start drinking, knowing his mother would simply ignore him.
“I’ll have a bourbon with ice. Make sure you use the good stuff.” Before Dolly was out of earshot, Bettina turned to Linc. “She’s been giving me some swill she claims is from Grady’s distillery. As if I haven’t been drinking bourbon all my life and wouldn’t know the difference.”
Grady was Linc’s cousin on his mother’s side. Now that bourbon had been “rediscovered” by the masses, the trend seemed to be everyone with a little pocket change slapping a label on a barrel and calling it craft bourbon. Linc considered most of it swill. However, after attending one of Grady’s tasting parties, Linc had been impressed enough to back his cousin’s venture. So far, Grady hadn’t gone bankrupt, so Linc figured his cousin must be doing something right.
“Tell me about your dinner party tomorrow night,” Bettina said, turning her bright blue eyes on Linc. “Who all is invited?”
“The usual suspects. Knox, Sawyer, Austin, Roy, Grady and a few others. There will be twelve of us altogether.”
His mother reeled back in dismay. “Did you invite any girls besides your sister?” Bettina had been unhappy when he started dating London and positively mortified when they got engaged. This time around he knew she intended to steer him toward a more appropriate choice, preferably a young woman whose Charlestonian roots went as deep as his own.
“She’s promised to bring six friends so it’ll be even numbers.”
His mother had a knack for radiating displeasure without moving any of her facial muscles. “You can’t let your love life be decided by your sister’s random friends.”
“I also can’t let my love life be decided by my mother’s social aspirations for me.” He smiled to take any sting out of the words.
Bettina waved her hand as if she was shooing away a fly. “You have a duty to this family to marry well and have children who will carry on the Thurston name.”
Seriously, Mother?
There was a time, after Linc’s father was caught embezzling and went to jail for five years, that Bettina had cursed the Thurston name. Linc wisely chose not to point this out to her.
“If you don’t ease up on my search parameters,” Linc muttered, “I’m going to die childless and alone.” He made it sound as if he was kidding, but in truth, he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to fall in love with the right woman.
Look at the mistake he’d made with London. He still wasn’t clear if what he had felt for her was love, or if she’d simply won him over with her beauty, determined personality and competitive spirit.
They’d met when he was in his late twenties and starting to lose interest in the never-ending merry-go-round of women in and out of his life. He’d spotted her at a charity event she’d organized and been drawn to her beauty. That she’d also been blessed with brains and ambition had struck the right chord with him, and within a month, they’d become exclusive.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” his mother said. “I can name a dozen women who would be perfect for you. In fact, as soon as you leave, I’m going to make a list and invite them to a party here in a couple weeks. That girl of yours is a dream...”
While his mother prattled on, Linc grappled with his discomfort over being the main event at one of Bettina’s gatherings. Part of him wanted to make his mother happy after everything she’d endured in her life, but he wasn’t about to surrender his freedom unless the woman was nothing short of spectacular.
“...Claire?”
His heart gave a little jump as his mother mentioned the young widow. “What about Claire?” Had she guessed his ever-increasing preoccupation with the woman who worked for him?
“Can I borrow her to cater the party?”
His mother’s request reminded Linc that his attraction to Claire needed to end. In any other town they could make it work, but in Charleston, where his mother was so entrenched in her family history, a Thurston and an outsider could never happen. Especially when that outsider was also his housekeeper.
“I’ll ask her if she’s willing,” he said, his tone subdued.
“Wonderful. Send her by early next week so we can discuss the menu.”
To Linc’s relief, Dolly announced lunch a few minutes later. He could tell that the wheels were spinning in his mother’s head. As the food was being served, Bettina demanded pen and paper so she could write down the list of appropriate women she intended to introduce to him.
Linc sipped tomato bisque soup and devoured curried shrimp and egg salad sandwiches in silence while his mother remarked over each woman she intended to include. Bettina made it sound as if they were candidates for him to choose from, but he knew the truth: the party would be one big husband hunt, with him, the unlucky prey.
The situation wasn’t unfamiliar. Since high school, women had been throwing themselves at him. And once he’d started playing pro baseball, he couldn’t turn around without a beautiful woman hitting on him. But those women weren’t usually of a sort he took seriously. After a one-night stand or a brief hookup, they drifted out of his life.
This was different. His mother intended to toss him into a pit with a voracious group of marriage-minded females. He doubted he’d come out intact.
So Linc started making his own list of eligible guy friends whom he could persuade to attend to take some of the focus off him. He knew twenty who fit the bill, but the question remained: How many could he convince to attend? They had to realize what his mother was up to.
Over dessert, his mother