Thanksgiving had once been a Meadows family special. Mom would spend all day slaving away in the kitchen, chasing he and Gavin out when they got cheeky and figured they could stick their finger into the cranberry sauce for a taste. Dad would even go down to the cellar and bring back up one of his aged wines that he’d kept corked for decades now. All saved for a special occasion. The Priors would arrive, the dinner would be served, and Bailey would usually give Daisy his last half of the pumpkin pie because he knew she liked it so much.
This year, there was no cranberry sauce and no pumpkin pie. No Mom either. Instead, the house in the Hamptons was empty. Desolate, even.
Their usual party was spread all over the place back in the city. Colton was busy with training. Gavin and Daisy would be doing their own thing. He knew that Daisy and her mom weren’t exactly speaking right now, and his dad would probably be at some associate’s place. That was if his father even spent much time in Manhattan these days. Bailey didn’t tend to keep tabs on the man, but the last he’d heard from Gavin was that Richard Meadows now spent an awful lot of his time in the California offices.
Instead of sticking around the five boroughs, Bailey had made the trip out to the beach house alone, planning to hunker down for the holiday weekend with Chinese takeout and a pile of case studies that Daniela had warned him off looking into until Thanksgiving was over. Not that he planned to listen to her.
He was kneeling by the TV, sliding the DVD for A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving into the drive when he heard the door handle rattle.
Frowning, he pushed himself onto his feet, wondering what the hell kind of DoorDashers were getting hired these days. Did they think that working on a holiday gave them express permission to make a healthy attempt at a home invasion?
“I’m coming!” Bailey called, half-sliding down the hallway in his socks. His key was already jammed in the lock, so he turned it and pulled the door open, ready to express polite disapproval for whatever delivery worker was on the other side.
“Knocking’s always worked, you kn- oh.” He rocked back on his feet, eyes widening behind his tortoiseshell glasses. “Daisy.”
