“Oh, Claire, it’s not that bad.” Golden reached out and touched her hand, regretting that she’d shared so much of her private life with her. If she weren’t careful she would be the cause of Claire working herself into a royal fit over her situation and she definitely did not want that. “And please forget I ever told you those things. I’m handling things quite well. There’s no need to fret over me.”
“What? When the man has control of your father’s money and you can’t get a penny of it? That does not sound like a situation that’s being handled well at all.” Claire’s eyes flashed with an anger that told Golden her confidante was taking the whole thing personally and was getting quite agitated. That was not good. It was time to end the conversation.
She got up and leaned over to kiss Claire on her softly wrinkled cheek. “It will all work out,” she said, her tone filled with a confidence she did not truly feel. “Just give it some time.”
Claire’s look said she was far from convinced but Golden gave her no chance to prolong the discussion. She turned away and picked up her handbag. “I’ll be back next Sunday,” she said then turned back to give Claire a cheerful smile. “Now you be a good girl until I get back. Promise?”
Claire didn’t even bother to answer that. She lifted a finger and pointed to Golden. “Start standing up for yourself. Do you hear me? I got to where I am because I didn’t let anyone take advantage of me. You be strong. Understand?”
Golden gave her a nod. “Understood, my lady.”
The old woman’s face cleared and she chuckled. “And next Sunday don’t be late.”
“I won’t.” Golden gave her a wave and then she slipped out the door just as her cell phone began to buzz.
“Mother,” she said in a whispered sigh as she hurried down the hallway, “will you ever give me space to breathe?”
As she walked she dug into her handbag and pulled out the phone. “Yes, Mother?” She was trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice but this time it was really hard.
“I need you home right now, Golden.” Eugenia’s voice sounded breathless. “Dunstan needs to speak with you.”
“With me?” Golden frowned. “About what?”
“A strange phone call he got. Somebody called the house looking for a Golden Browne. Something about a check? It all sounded very strange.”
Golden came to a halt. A check. The call must have come from the agency. “So why does Dunstan need to speak to me? All he had to do was take a message.”
“Your Uncle Dunstan,” Eugenia said, putting noticeable stress on the last two words, “would like to know what this check is for.” Then her voice fell to a whisper. “And please have a reasonable explanation, Golden. You know he doesn’t like you doing things without his knowledge.”
Golden gasped in indignation. “Mother, I’m almost twenty-one. When is he going to stop this meddling?”
“Dear, let’s not discuss it right now. Try to get home soon, will you?” The pleading tone was back in Eugenia’s voice.
“I’m on my way,” Golden said, her jaws tight with anger. “I’ll deal with him when I get there.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Dunstan Manchester could be intimidating even when he was in a good mood. Today, he was not in a good mood.
Over six feet tall with bushy eyebrows and a thick, old fashioned mustache, his face was set in what Golden’s stepbrother had jokingly described as a ‘permanent screw’. Today he was wearing suspenders over his plaid shirt and even sported a tie although he was home on a Sunday afternoon with no plans to go out for the rest of the day. He was usually home on Sundays, which was why Golden made it a point to keep herself busy with activities that would take her out of the house on that day. Being in Dunstan Manchester’s presence was sheer torture.
But today it could not be helped. He was demanding answers and this time her mother would have no explanations to calm him down. Golden would have to handle him herself.
As she laid her handbag on her mother’s prized Chippendale breakfront china cabinet her stepfather glanced up from the Sunday paper and gave her a sour look. His lunch was still sitting in front of him on the dining table, the half-eaten roast beef, carrots and Yorkshire pudding adorning his plate. As usual, despite the admonition of his doctors, the meal was covered with a generous helping of gravy.
“You wanted to speak to me?” Golden asked, her voice as cool as her expression. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing his summons had upset her.
Slowly, he lowered his paper and gave her a cold stare. “What’s this about a check? Who is it from and what is it for?”
Golden felt her heart tighten in anger. He was a presumptuous one to be asking such questions. She folded her arms across her chest, refusing to be intimidated. “I think that’s my business. If you got a message for me the only thing you need to do is pass it on.”
There was a gasp and they both turned to see Eugenia standing in the doorway. “Golden. Please.” On her face was a stricken look like she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.
Golden almost groaned. Now why did her mother have to come in right at that moment? She knew it hurt Eugenia when she stood up to her husband but she wanted so badly to make Manchester understand that he might be her mother’s boss but he was certainly not hers. Now she would have to back down all for the sake of her mother. There was nothing she wanted less than to cause her grief.
“Sorry,” she muttered only for the benefit of her mother. She drew in her breath then began again. There was no way she could get around it now. She would have to explain. “I was a temp at a fashion show the other day. They were probably calling to tell me my check was ready. Did they say where I should pick it up?”
Manchester didn’t answer. For several seconds he just sat there, silent, staring at her with unreadable dark eyes. The twitching of the left side of his mustache was the only indication of his anger. “I thought it was understood,” he said slowly, “that there should be no employment without my prior knowledge and consent. You are provided with food, shelter and an allowance which should be enough to satisfy your needs.”