A well-dressed and very unhappy-looking woman strode up to her. “Of course it’s your mother. You know, the woman whose calls you’ve been ignoring. The woman you kept waiting in her car?”
Amanda sucked in a sharp breath. “It’s not like I was expecting you. And as for not returning your calls, I’ve been busy.”
“Yes, working as a secretary.” The older woman wrinkled her nose in disdain.
“Personal assistant,” Amanda corrected her.
“Same thing.”
Amanda shook her head. “Mother, please. Not again.”
Since the other woman didn’t seem to want to notice him, Decklan took the time to evaluate her with a lingering look. She came up lacking. Although it was obvious she and Amanda were related, blonde hair—though clearly her mother’s had been touched up with a bottle—similar bone structure, and brown eye color, the similarities ended there. Where her mother was tall and too thin, Amanda was lush and curvy. Where Amanda was warm and real, her mother was full of grandeur and illusion. Or was it delusion? Decklan wondered.
“Mother, please what?” the older woman mimicked. “How about you show some manners and invite me inside?”
Good Lord, she was cold. How had Amanda grown up with this woman?
Amanda straightened her shoulders. But Decklan could sense how hard even that small act of defiance had been.
“Now’s not a good time,” Amanda said. “I have company. We just returned from dinner.”
Her mother glanced at Decklan, noticing him for the first time, and her frown indicated she didn’t like what she saw. Since that made two of them, he didn’t much care.
“Marilyn Collins, this is Decklan Dare,” Amanda said, gesturing between them.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he gritted out. He couldn’t say it was a pleasure, but for Amanda’s sake, he’d be pleasant.
Her mother glanced away from him, her eyes widening as she really looked at Amanda. “You went out to a restaurant dressed like that?”
She glanced down at her light pink dress that hung gently but clung to every curve and a pair of basic flip-flops that showed off her pink polished toes. “I like this dress,” she said softly.
“It looks like you put on a few pounds too. Good thing I have a wonderful new diet. We can talk when we’re alone.” She pointedly stared at Decklan.
As if he would leave her alone with this evil woman.
If this was how her mother had always treated her, no wonder she had deeply ingrained self-esteem issues. There was nothing wrong with how she looked or her dress. Not a damned thing.
“For what it’s worth, I think you look beautiful,” Decklan said, resting his hand on the small of her back.
She didn’t flinch away, accepting his show of support. In fact, she glanced up at him and smiled.
“Who are you to my daughter?” Marilyn’s shrill voice captured his attention. She perched her hands on her slim hips, her annoyance clear.
So much for niceties. She hadn’t even acknowledged his greeting. He wanted to shove his relationship with Amanda in this woman’s face but knew better. Amanda appeared shocked, and the more her mother spoke, with her belittling tone and disgusted looks, the more Amanda quietly pulled into herself.
“We’re friends,” he said, hating the taste of the word on his tongue because they were so much more.
Marilyn nodded but her eyes narrowed. Clearly she was shrewd.
“I hope that’s all you are. Because I can already see your influence, and it’s not good. It’s bad enough she works for that … that man who wears tee shirts instead of a suit and tie, but at least his father is someone important. And now she’s hanging out with the likes of you.” She wrinkled her nose.
Decklan figured she wasn’t impressed with his cargo shorts and tee shirt. Or maybe it was the razor stubble he favored on his days off. Personally, he didn’t give a shit what she thought of him, but for Amanda, he cared.
“That’s enough,” Amanda said, her tone suddenly stronger. “There’s no need to talk like that to Decklan. He’s a good man, a good … friend, and he’s a cop, which takes courage and common decency. I’d appreciate it if you’d show him respect.”
He wanted to linger on the fact that she’d stumbled over the word friends, but instead, he was hung up on how she’d stood up to her mother for him but not for herself.
“There’s no need to defend me,” he told Amanda.
“Yes, there is. Come on. You don’t need to listen to this.” She tugged on his hand.
“You don’t mean to leave me standing here, do you? I raised you better,” Marilyn said.
Decklan had had enough. “Lady, if you raised her to be the way you wanted, I wouldn’t want anything to do with her. Luckily, she has a mind of her own, and she’s as beautiful inside as she is out.”
Marilyn’s eyes opened wide. “You can’t talk to me like that.”
“I just did.”
Amanda stepped between them. “Why did you come by?” Amanda asked, resigned.
“Oh, now you care? Your father wanted you to know he was going in for a stress test next week. But I’ll let him know his ungrateful daughter didn’t have time to listen.” And with that pronouncement, she strode toward her car, ignoring any questions Amanda asked.
Her mother shut the car door and started the engine.
Amanda turned to him, pain etched across her face. “I can’t believe her. Well, I can, but still. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“It’s not me she verbally abused.” Not as much as she had Amanda. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Oh, that’s a long story.”
“One I want to hear, but let’s go inside first, okay?”
She nodded and he followed her inside and up the stairs. Once inside, she turned to him. “Listen, I’m going to change and call my dad before my mother gets back home and fills his head with more awful things about me. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Does he have a heart condition?” Decklan asked.
She shrugged. “Not that I know of. And I figure if my mother could take the half hour to leave him and drive over here to lecture me, he must be okay, at least for now.”
He inclined his head. “Go. See what’s going on.”
“Thanks.” She headed into the bedroom.
He hated the mood and defeated tone her mother had instilled and was determined to undo the emotional damage the other woman had caused.