Page 117 of The Hardest Hit

A micro-expression crossed Eleanor’s face and Dominique couldn’t quite decipher it. Confusion, maybe. She had seen it when Evan had saidI love youin the library. Dominique was now resolved to say it to all of her family on every reasonable occasion. Eleanor shouldn’t be confused by love. That was wrong. But Eleanor was wrong about several things.

“This was your only free pass, Grandma. We are your family. If something like this happens again—if you treat us as less than your beloved grandchildren—we will stop associating with you. Evan will divest himself of your financial interests. Aiden will pass all his files to your actual lawyers. And I will stop helping your campaign. There will be no support at events. No Sunday dinners. No Christmases. Deveraux House will be empty.”

Eleanor was silent. Dominique picked up her teacup and took a sip. She looked out at the garden. Theo had started redoing the brickwork.

“I think Max is going to ask me to marry him soon,” she said when she felt like the silence had gone on long enough. She had selected to segue subject carefully. She wasn’t sure he really would or not. They had discussed it. The timing was dependent on his application to law school. But the topic would underline just what would be missing from Deveraux House if Eleanor didn’t keep herself in line.

“That is excellent,” said Eleanor. “He’s a darling boy who clearly worships you.”

Dominique smiled involuntarily at the thought of Max. “The feeling is mutual,” she said. “Although, I’m rather wondering if Aiden is going to beat him to it. He’s been trying to convince Ella to move in with him. Not that she practically doesn’t already, but I think her family disapproves of such modern conventions as cohabitating.”

“I believe he will hold off,” said Eleanor. “Her family would probably want children instantly, so as to get them out of the way before Ella takes the reins of Zhao Industries.”

“Children? Eek! Aiden couldn’t possibly be a parent.”

“I think he might be a good father.” Eleanor looked like she was trying the idea on for size.

“I’m not ready to be a mother, so he couldn’t possibly be ready to be a father,” said Dominique, attempting to quash the idea before it blossomed into something. Eleanor gave a soft laugh.

“I don’t believe it works that way.”

“You might be right,” said Dominique. “But I am refusing to consider such nonsense.”

“As you wish,” said Eleanor. “Honestly, what do you think of Olivia?” Eleanor looked distressed by Olivia’s existence. Dominique was going to have to stomp at that idea too.

“Max and I had dinner with Evan and Olivia last week. Fully clothed, of course. It was a Wednesday.”

“Of course—what?” Eleanor frowned.

“Never mind,” said Dominique. “What I was going to say, was that I like Olivia.”

“She’s a Taggert,” said Eleanor grumpily.

“Well, if Evan plays his cards right, she’ll be a Deveraux in a bit and then that will take care of that.”

“I really never thought he would get married,” said Eleanor, still frowning. “He never seemed to be interested in anyone long term.”

Dominique sighed at her grandmother’s lack of understanding. “It is very difficult to be interested in anyone long term when you think they might not like you if they found out who you really are. Abuse leaves a legacy of shame. And shame makes open and honest relationships difficult.”

Eleanor blinked as if Dominique had grown three heads.

“It’s fine,” said Dominique. Eleanor wasn’t there yet. “I’ll send you some books. They’re very insightful.”

“What?”

“Evan and Olivia are wonderful together. She is brilliant and a good match for our family. I think she’ll be an excellent asset.”

Eleanor relaxed a fraction, clearly on firmer ground with this statement, although one eyebrow cocked upward skeptically.

“However,” continued Dominique, “if we’re going to comment on all my male relatives, what do we think the odds were of Evan finding someone before Jackson?”

“Not as bad as you might think,” said Eleanor. “Jackson is very muchnotlooking for love. I don’t think he believes in it.”

Dominique blew a small raspberry, and Eleanor blinked in surprise. “What does he know?”

“I thought you just said you believed all the things he said.”

“I did. And I do. But he doesn’t know everything. And he certainly doesn’t know about love.”