But she was really ready to go by eleven when Jonah finally signaled it. Everyone shook her hand. His brothers all kissed her cheek. His grandfather, who’d told her some awesome stories about Korea, had taken her hands and told her it had been his pleasure to meet her. Even Beth deigned to kiss her cheek and say it had been nice to meet her and seemed pretty genuine about it. The woman had been a little nicer since dinner, not totally of course—there’d been a few remarks, but they hadn’t been as cutting.

Liesl took her aside as they were preparing to leave. “No one has ever taken her on like that for me. John defends me of course, but over the years it’s become an elaborate game.”

“Jeez. I’d suggest you try Monopoly or backgammon or something. Pick-your-family-apart seems like a sucky game to me.”

Liesl jerked just a little. “Charlotte never would have said anything like that.”

“Yeah, well, aside from Carrie, I can’t see much good in anything that money-grubbing skank has done, so forgive me if I decline to aspire to her level of behavior. My flaws are legion, but I’m not like her, nor do I ever plan to be. I can’t see the point in sitting around a table and cutting people apart. Unless I was a surgeon or something.”

“As it happens, I agree with you when it comes to Charlotte. Honesty is refreshing. I appreciate it. I do hope you come back to dinner soon.”

Raven lifted a brow and Liesl laughed. Jonah saw it and hurried to get free of his grandparents to make his way over.

“He’s worried I’m being mean to you.”

“I can handle you. I like your son a great deal. I respect his life and his need to lead it however he feels necessary. But I don’t think it’s a game to hurt people. It’s tiring enough to have to keep from blurting out everything I think. I don’t want to combine that with a meal. I like food too much to ruin it with this sort of thing. I’m not good at it.”

“Yes, I do believe you can handle me. How about if I promise to not make a game out of insulting you? Will you come to a Sunday dinner here next month? My son is in love with you. He’s satisfied with his life since you came into it. It’s been rough for him since that bitch ran off. You’re not the running-off type of bitch.”

“No. A different kind of bitch though.”

Liesl nodded, satisfied. “Yes, but that’s all right. You’ll be in good company.”

“I’ll work out schedules with Jonah about dinner.” She knew he wanted it and that meant a lot, even if Liesl hadn’t just sort of gone out of her way to give her the seal of approval.

“Everything all right here?” Jonah eased up, putting an arm around Raven’s shoulders.

“Yes, darling. I was just inviting Raven to Sunday dinner next month.”

He gave a sideways glance to Raven, who nodded.

He kissed his mother’s cheek and Carrie caught up with them, her coat in hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Grandmother.”

“All right, darling. Sleep well.”

Raven could dig a lady who got softhearted for her grandkid. 

“So how did it go? At Jonah’s place, I mean.” Brody worked, chatting to her as was their usual rhythm.

“Most of it was fine. His kid is pretty awesome. I liked his brothers and his father and grandfather. But there were aspects of the evening that were like fucking Thunderdome. His mother and grandmother were all artfully cutting at each other. Mainly the grandmother. That part was not fun. But Liesl, the mother? She invited me to Sunday dinner, which I take it is the seal of approval. I may have to have a drink before I go over there. The stress of keeping my mouth shut probably takes years off my life.”

Brody laughed. “You really dig this guy. I like it on you.”

“He’s not like anything I’ve ever experienced before.” She paused. “Which sounds weird talking to you, but you have that with Elise so I figure you get what I mean.”

“I do. So he’s decent? I mean, he seems to make you happy. Seems to treat you well. Adrian even commented on that.”

She sent a raised brow to him at that comment. “Really?” Many years before, Adrian had seen her with another man at a club in Los Angeles. She’d been with Brody then. And though she’d always been up front with Brody about the fact that she wasn’t monogamous, Adrian had hated her pretty much ever since. She’d never lied, but that hadn’t mattered to Adrian, who loved his siblings fiercely.

“What happened, what he saw, well, that was between you and me. And he gets it. He’s protective of me. But he sees what you’re like with Gillian. And with Poppy too. He’s mellowing as he ages.”

“Hm.”

“Raven?”

She looked up from her client at Maggie’s hail of her name. Maggie stood at the front counter where she usually dealt with walk-ins and clients.

Raven stood, knocking the stool back and nearly losing her balance at the sight of the man standing there. It had been nearly twenty years since the last time she saw Mike Thompson, and he looked pretty much the same as he had then.

Brody was at her side immediately. Two other people were also working in the shop and they’d stood as well, looking back and forth between Raven and the man at the door.

“Mr. Thompson? What . . . Why are you here?” Sick dread filled her as the memories nearly suffocated.

“Raven? Are you all right?” Brody stood between her and Mike.

“He . . . That’s . . . I’m . . . I don’t know.”

Brody examined her face. “Sweetheart, do I need to call the cops? Do I need to beat this guy’s ass? What’s happening? You’re scaring the hell out of me.”

“I know Raven from Happy Bend.”

“Well, I know enough to understand that’s not a good thing,” Brody called back over his shoulder.

“It’s fine.” No. It wasn’t fine. But she didn’t want to get the guy beaten up by three burly tattoo artists. And Maggie held the phone in her hand like she was about to swing it into Mike’s face.

She pulled herself together. It was in the past. She had a future. She wasn’t going to let this harm her.

She managed to walk to the front counter as everyone got back to work, though they all kept an eye on the situation. That made her feel better. Brody was at her back, refusing to leave. That made her feel better too.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make a scene.” Mike licked his lips nervously. He had gray in his hair and in his beard. A bit of belly, though he would have been sixty or so by now, so she figured that was normal.

“Why are you here?”

“Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”

“Why are you here?” Raven repeated.

“It’s about your mother.”

She physically recoiled, moving back a step and hitting Brody. He took her shoulder in his hand, reassuring.

“Why don’t you use my office?” He spoke softly.

She nodded. “I need to finish my client.”

Arvin, who’d just cashed out his latest client, paused. “It’s a simple one, right? I can finish it for you if your client is okay with it.”

“Thanks. Mr. Thompson, I can talk to you in Brody’s office. Come on back.”

Her legs worked, which sort of surprised her.

Brody paused at the door, after she’d waved Mike to sit. “You want some company? Who is that?”

“My foster father. One of them.” She’d never told anyone the whole story of just who he was and she wasn’t going to do it then either. “I’ll be okay.” She touched his arm. “Thank you.”

“Bang on the wall if you need me. Or call out. I’m just right here.”

She nodded and turned, closing the door.

She walked to the desk and sat behind it. The familiar furniture, the pictures of Brody’s women, Marti and Rennie, Elise, joined with others of Erin and Adrian. The room smelled like him. His jacket hung on a peg in the corner. This was her turf. It was her turf and it was nearly twenty years after her dealings with the Thompsons.