Free Angel Condemned by Mary Stanton Page A

and thumped his tail against the floor.
    “Next time Hunter asks you out, you should go,” Antonia said.
    “Sam? What does Sam have to do with all this?”
    “Just that he’s a great guy, even if he is a cop, and you’re over Payton the Rat totally, right? So maybe it’s time to kick back a little. Give the work thing a rest.”
    “Give the work thing a rest, huh?” Bree said, suddenly fed up and in the mood for an argument. It helped to yell at somebody, and Antonia was handy. “And what the heck would you know about the work thing? You haven’t worked a real job a day in your life.”
    Antonia shot off the couch, put her hands on her hips, and exploded. “Excuse me? This is me, ignoring the sarcasm and overlooking that totally unjustified slam because you’ve obviously lost whatever passes for your mind. You think stage managing isn’t a real job? You think breaking my back six nights a week . . .”
    “Between partying . . .”
    “Making sure the lighting’s on cue . . .”
    “And sleeping with every good-looking bozo that calls himself an actor . . .”
    “Not to mention the props!”
    Sasha jumped to his feet with a bark. The phone rang. Bree picked up the receiver and yelled into it. “What?!”
    “Bree?” Francesca’s light, pretty voice came over the wire. “Bree, is that you?”
    Bree sat down on the couch beside her sister. “Yes, Mamma, it’s me.”
    “You two girls aren’t fighting, are you?”
    Bree glanced at Antonia. Her sister’s face was flushed, and her eyes glittered. “Not really.” Then, “How’d you guess?”
    “You only get that tone in your voice when you’re having a spat with your baby sister. And it’s Monday night, so she’s home.” Then, anxiously, “Unless she’s lost her job at the theater?”
    “Nope, she’s still employed. If you can call messing around in a theater employment.”
    “Bree, you are a total jerk!” Antonia yelled.
    “Put me on speakerphone, honey.”
    Bree punched the button, and Francesca’s voice flooded the small room. “The two of you cut it out right now, you hear?”
    “This is so not my fault,” Antonia said. “Bree started it, anyway.”
    “I don’t want to hear about it. Not one word. What I do want to know is what in the Lord’s name is going on with Cissy? She just called me, and she’s all kinds of hysterical. What on earth did you say to her, Bree?”
    “Nothing much. Not yet, anyway.”
    “Well, I wasn’t going to come down until the day before the wedding, but I’m thinking I should come down tomorrow. Your father will head down on Friday, like we planned originally. “
    “Yes!” Antonia said.
    “Maybe we could talk Cissy into going up to Plessey, instead,” Bree said. “Get her away from things for a while.”
    “Four days before the wedding?” Francesca’s voice was mildly astonished. “I think not. But maybe I’ll stay with Cissy, instead of y’all. She might feel easier talking about things without you two around.”
    “That’d be nice,” Antonia said disingenuously. “The two of you can have a good heart-to-heart talk.” The town house only had two bedrooms; as the youngest, she was relegated to the couch in the living room when her parents stayed over.
    “Did you talk long?” Bree asked. “Did she tell you about the lawsuit?”
    “She did. And I’m here to tell you girls she’s not making a lick of sense. Not that she’s made any sense since she met up with that man. It’s getting worse the closer we get to the wedding.”
    “You’ve got to talk her out of marrying Prosper, Mamma,” Antonia said.
    “Your father and I have to be there for her, honey, which is something altogether different. We can express our doubts about the man if she asks us. Otherwise, we stay strictly out of it. You girls understand that; I know you do. Now. I’m driving down tomorrow, and I’m going straight to her place, so I won’t see y’all until dinnertime. Why don’t I meet you at that nice