Ignoring the sputter from Robert, Aaron dipped his head. “I hear you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Saturday night, Anne sat at her parents’ overcrowded table, trying to act festive and worrying about what would happen later when she met Ben at the Shadowlands.
Would he listen to her? Want to try again?
Breathe.
Unfortunately, the inhalation carried the fishy smell of red snapper—her father’s favorite dish—and her stomach turned over.
Wonderful. She took a careful sip of Sprite and fought for calm under the barrage of piercingly loud voices around the table.
Since this was her father’s birthday dinner, her uncles and their families were present. When they’d arrived, she’d greeted them with a cool politeness. Uncle Matt had looked guilty and still couldn’t meet her gaze. Naturally, Uncle Russell and Robert acted as if nothing was wrong,
But she was all for a detente with the relatives tonight since her emotions were already on a rollercoaster ride.
Every time she thought about Ben, she wanted to cry.
Every time she looked at her uncles, she wanted to throw something at them. And subscribe them to Ms. Magazine.
Every time Robert leered at her breasts, she wanted to beat him into a gory heap.
And that just wasn’t worth it…because the smell of the blood would probably make her throw up.
Her snort drew Travis’s attention, and he bumped his shoulder against hers. “What’s got you so quiet, sis?”
She shrugged. This wasn’t the time or place to indulge in a complaint fest.
Seated across the table, her cousin overheard. “She’s pouting because I run the recovery team now and she’s off completely. Or maybe it’s something else. You on the rag, cuz?”
Her mother gasped at his coarse insult.
“Shut your mouth, Robert,” Travis snapped.
Touching her brother’s arm, Anne shook her head. Rancorous discussions didn’t belong at a birthday dinner, and her mother’d put in long hours on the party.
“Tell you what,” Robert announced. “The guys were fucking happy to finally having a man leading them.”
The rodent wasn’t going to shut up.
Harrison growled, “Jesus, you’re so full of—”
“This discussion is more appropriately conducted at the office, not at a celebration,” Anne interrupted before things could get out of hand. “I’ll discuss this on Monday with the owners.”
“Thank you, darling,” her mother said, looking relieved.
Her father frowned. “What the hell is—”
“No need to wait.” Robert said. “About everyone here has been involved with the company at one time or another. I bet they’re interested in how you’re always trying to shove your way into running everything.”
She eyed the rat. “I didn’t have to shove my way anywhere. I built that team from scratch and ran it because I have the education, experience, and skills to do so.” Still hoping to salvage the dinner, she didn’t add, “all of which you lack.”
Harrison growled, “Exactly.”
Perhaps her cousin had heard the part she left out. He glared. “You don’t have anything that I—”
“Enough.” Her What-the-Fuck Meter zoomed past orange and into red. “You took the team because you can’t stand taking directions from a woman. You’re not a leader because you’re better, but because you went crying to your daddy—which you do whenever you don’t get your way. I realize it’s difficult to man up when your equipment is the size of peanuts, but do give it a try.”
Robert turned purple.
Travis inhaled beer, making appalling sounds on her right. Most of the relatives were roaring with laughter.
Not all.
Her father leaned forward and raised his voice over the noise. “Russell, you’ve removed Anne from fugitive recovery?”
“Since Robert is quite capable of leading the team, I decided to make the change.” Russell’s florid complexion was heightened; his jowls quivered with anger. “I’ve never been comfortable sending a woman into combat, so to speak.”
Anne choked her response back. Why fight to remain as team leader when her pregnancy would sideline her soon anyway? But, she’d worked her hardest for her uncles and to make her team the best. Being booted out…
It hurt.
Robert gave her father a sincere look. “A woman is far too liable to get herself killed. And a wanna-be cop doesn’t have what it takes.”
“A what?” her mother asked in surprise. “She’s not—”
“Robert has his head up his ass,” Harrison interrupted, frowning at Matt. “If you don’t recall, you and Russell hired her so she could bring in her law enforcement experience and train your agents. The team was her idea and creation. And she’s why you have the highest recovery percentages in Florida—and the lowest insurance rates.”