Birthright

I’ve got work,” Callie began, and rose.
    “There’s so much I still want to—” Even as Suzanne sprang to her feet, Sadie let out a happy bark and scrambled toward the door.
    The door opened and Doug stepped in. “Cut it out.” With an exasperated laugh, he pushed the seventy pounds of cheerful canine off as Sadie leaped on him. “Didn’t we go over this the last time? How about showing a little pride and . . .”
    He trailed off as he glanced toward the living room.
    A thousand things raced through his mind, his heart, ran over his face before it went blank.
    “Doug.” Suzanne’s hand fumbled to her throat, twisted the top button of her blouse. “I didn’t know you were coming by. This is . . . Oh God.”
    “Callie.” Though she wanted nothing now but to escape the sudden electric tension in the room, she shifted the box under her arm. “Callie Dunbrook.”
    “Yeah, I know. Sorry.” He shifted his gaze to his mother. “I should’ve called.”
    “No. Don’t be silly, Doug.”
    “I was just leaving. I’ll . . . be in touch,” Callie said to Suzanne.
    “I’ll show you out.”
    “That’s okay.” Callie kept her eyes on Doug’s face as she started to the door. And though her heart was drumming she kept herself composed as she brushed by him, opened the door.
    She made the sprint to her car, wrenched open the door and slid the box over the seat.
    “Why did you come here?”
    She shoved the wet hair out of her eyes and turned to see Doug standing beside her in the rain. That same electric tension snapped around him, nearly visible. She expected to see the rain sizzle as it hit his skin.
    “It wasn’t to piss you off. I don’t even know you.”
    “My mother’s in a difficult frame of mind right now. She doesn’t need you adding to it by dropping by for coffee and cookies.”
    “Okay, look. If I want to drop by for coffee and cookies, it’s a free world. As it happens, that’s not why I came. I don’t want to upset your mother. I don’t want to mess up your life. But we all need some answers.”
    “What’s the point?”
    “The answers are the point.”
    “Every couple of years since Suzanne’s Kitchen went national, someone’s come along telling her she’s her long-lost daughter. Your line of work, that runs on grants and endowments, right?”
    She lifted her chin, stepped forward until her bootsbumped his shoes, and spoke directly into his face. “Fuck you.”
    “I won’t let anyone hurt her. Not ever again.”
    “And that makes you the good son?”
    “It sure as hell doesn’t make me your brother.”
    “Well, that’s a relief. Let me remind you, Doug , she came to me. Out of the goddamn blue, and now my life’s turned upside down. I left my parents yesterday in a miserable emotional state. I’ve got to go have blood drawn and tests done and deal with something that was none of my doing. And I’m not too fucking happy about it, so back off.”
    “She doesn’t mean anything to you.”
    “That’s not my fault either.” But the guilt had weight. “Or hers. If you’re worried about your inheritance, relax. I don’t want her money. Now, I’m in a pretty foul mood from watching her try not to fall apart for the last twenty minutes. If you’d like me to take that out on you, I’d be glad to. Otherwise, I’ve got better things to do than stand in the rain arguing with you.”
    She turned on her heel, popped up into the Rover, slammed the door.
    If that was what it was like having a brother, she thought as she barely resisted running over his feet, she’d been damn lucky for the first twenty-eight years of her life.
    By the time she got back to the motel, her temper had reached its peak. Even as she opened the door both her cell phone and the room phone rang.
    She yanked her cell phone out of her bag. “Dunbrook, hold on.” Snatched up the room phone. “Dunbrook, what?”
    “Well, don’t bite my head off,” Lana told her. “I just called to give you a quick update. But if you’re going to snarl at me, I’ll just up my hourly rate.”
    “Sorry. What have you got?”
    “I’d prefer talking to you in person. Can you come in?”
    “I just got back to the room. I’m a little ragged out.”
    “I’ll come there. Give me a half hour.”
    “Can you just—”
    “No. Half hour,” she said and disconnected.
    “Shit.” Callie slammed down the phone and was about to pick up her cell again when someone knocked at the door. “Great, just