Calculated Risk by Zoe M. McCarthy Page B

rang. The highest-ranking marketing person who’d attended the meeting said, ‘How soon can you get us the information and the analysis we talked about in today’s meeting?’ That was the last time Marketing duped me.”
    Family members laughed.
    Cisney chuckled politely, and then concentrated on buttering her roll. Did she feel ganged up on?
    “Yeah,” Dad said, “our marketing people think we have answers for everything. But they’re an agreeable bunch.”
    “Happily promising executive staff the moon?” Grandpa elicited another laugh. He winked at Cisney. “Don’t take us too seriously. It’s not often we actuaries can rib a marketing person. We have to grab the opportunity, you know.”
    Nick held his turkey-laden fork suspended. “The CEO has awarded Cisney recognition for her creative ideas and running successful marketing campaigns.”
    Cisney cocked her head toward him as if she were surprised he’d defended her. She wasn’t the only one shocked. His words had tumbled out unbidden. A new, and dangerous, experience for him. Why had he championed her? She could handle herself. Let her see that family tests were involved to break into this family. She couldn’t skate in on her performance of “Flight of the Bumblebee” alone.
    Cisney’s shoulders relaxed, and she smiled good-naturedly. Of course, she’d pass the teasing test that Dana had failed. By now they all believed he and Cisney were engaged. The hole he had to dig his way out of kept getting deeper. But it wasn’t Cisney’s fault.
    “Fran and Fannie,” Mom said, “where did you girls go today?”
    Good old Mom, changing the subject.
    As always, Fannie answered for the twins. “We escaped to somewhere as far away from the kitchen as possible.” Chuckles sounded around the table. “We went rollerblading over at the high school and met a couple of hot Carolina guys. They arranged to meet us the first day back to classes.”
    “You two will probably be the first to marry in this clan’s younger generation,” Grandma Thelma said.
    Mom beamed as she looked expectantly at Nick. He held his breath as if that would stop her from blurting out about an engagement. He needed to have a talk with her soon—now. He grabbed the breadbasket in front of him. From the four remaining rolls, he placed two on his bread plate and two on Cisney’s, staring down her gawk.
    “Mom, do you have more rolls?” He tipped the empty basket toward her.
    She shot up from her chair. “Yes. Lots more.” She took the basket and headed for the kitchen.
    Nick patted his napkin to his lips, excused himself, and followed Mom into the kitchen. She arranged rolls in the basket, her fingertips white with flour.
    This woman was a major light in his life. Lord, please give me the right words. He leaned against the counter and spoke gently. “Mom, I think you believe Cisney and I have more going on than we do.”
    She stopped arranging rolls. Wrinkles formed between her eyebrows, and her shoulders sagged. “You’re not engaged, are you?”
    He shook his head. “Cisney is a co-worker.”
    “Why didn’t you tell us you two weren’t dating?”
    He kept his voice tender. “I didn’t think I needed to tell you all the things we’re not. I told you she was a friend from work.”
    “But you brought her home.” Her eyes misted. “That usually means something special is going on…”
    “Sorry.” He felt like a heel, even though he’d done nothing wrong.
    Her face turned hopeful. “But you do like her, don’t you?”
    “Sure.”
    “Because she’s pleasant and lovely. And talented, too. Did you see how beautifully she set the table with the bird of paradise napkins? And her playing on The Old Girl. That was wonderful.”
    He grinned. “I think you want a duet partner more than a girlfriend for me.”
    “Not so, smarty-pants.” She stuffed a roll into his mouth. “I don’t want Cisney to slip through your fingers. Did you see how Tony has been eyeing her