the Cutlers of Cedar Springs, Tennessee, and the Chandlers of New York City, Kentucky and Saratoga.
“Zeke, I…” Roger paused, exhaling, not meeting Zeke’s eyes. “I’m sorry about your brother. He had such promise.” He winced, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry. That sounds patronizing, and I don’t mean to patronize.”
“It’s okay. And thanks. Why did you ask me here?”
He smiled thinly. “I’d heard you were one to cut to the heart of things. It’s a delicate matter. About Danielle, in fact.”
Danielle. Zeke could see her shining black eyes, the fear behind them. But if Roger was looking for a reaction, he didn’t get one.
“Frankly, Sara and I are worried about her—something we dare not let her realize. She’s independent to a pathological degree, in my opinion. But we do care about her.”
“Worried in what way?”
“I’m not sure—we could be overreacting. Rumors have been circulating all summer that she’s overextended herself, but I see no real evidence of that myself. And she’s coming tomorrow night.” He said it as if Zeke would automatically know what tomorrow night was, which he did. “She hasn’t attended since her mother…well, you know.”
“Anything else?”
He shrugged. “Nothing specific. We just don’t want anything to happen to her.”
A sentiment, Zeke had a feeling, that would just irritate the hell out of Dani Pembroke. His hamburger arrived, without flowers. He poured on the ketchup and dug in. “You’re worried she’s going to prove herself a true Pembroke and let everything she’s accomplished go up in smoke.”
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