#3 Lesbians in Malibu

Chapter 1

To the soft, lapping waves of the Pacific Ocean, Eva Warren sat on the deck of a private vacation home. With a glass of tropical iced tea in one hand and her sunglasses dangling from the other, she knew that this peace was temporary. It always was when she was on the turf of one of her least favorite people.

"Are you wearing sunscreen?" cawed a voice that made Eva's stomach ill. "Last thing you of all women need is a sunburn across your face. Your pale skin is one of the only things you have going for your appearance. It's certainly not that garishly short hair or your complete lack of flesh on those bones."

Eva sipped her iced tea, noting the sour lemon that delighted her pursed lips.

"I don't know what I was ever thinking." A shadow loomed in the opened sliding doorway. "Thinking that you could ever safely bear me a grandchild one day. It's bad enough you're almost older than I was when I had you. After thirty-five, your eggs all but rot in your womb. Just because you can get pregnant doesn't mean you should. Look at Damon Monroe. That wife of his is pumping them out now. I told you he loved blondes." That same shadow now stood behind Eva, who simply wanted to enjoy the best iced tea she had all summer. "Could've been you, Evangeline. You could have been the matriarch of the Monroe family by now."

Eva delicately placed her iced tea on the table next to her deck chair. "I would rather die."

Her mother all but cursed the perfect Malibu sky as she stomped back into her rental. "Why must you be so dramatic?"

I learned it from you, Mom. Eva pulled herself out of the deck chair before Isabella snapped at her to heel. "Drama is the only language you understand."

She plopped her sunglasses onto the island counter where her mother wished to conduct their scheduled discussion. Isabella ignored her daughter's comment as she brought over her iced coffee from the café across the street. It wasn't like Isabella Warren to march herself over to such a pedestrian place and engage in the local service industry, but Eva had been mildly impressed to see her mother had planned this whole trip not only by herself… but had traveled alone, too. The only other soul to stay with her was her young granddaughter Abigail, who was enjoying one last trip across the country before resuming school for the fall. First Grade already. I can hardly believe it. Seemed like only yesterday the sweet girl had burst into the world with a head of fuzzy blond hair and a pair of big blue eyes that beguiled every adult to cross her path. Even her crotchety bitch of a grandmother, who had decided not to ruin someone's life for once.

Yet Eva was on this trip for a reason, and it wasn't only to check in with her mother and hash out a few things. Her brother, Henry, had asked Eva to fly with Abigail and keep an eye on their mother as she interacted with an impressionable girl. Neither of them trusted Isabella, who had proven more than once that she hated her children's wives and thought it beneath the Warren name to beget the next generation when high standards had not been observed.

So far, she didn't take those thoughts out on Abigail, who was always boisterous and happy around her grandmother. By Eva's accounts, Isabella doted on her and spoiled her with (sugar-free, of course) treats and clothes that the girl truly did not need. Yet what Isabella did not say was that she was grateful that Eva was around to take Abigail to the beach. Isabella was a fan of the view, not so much the sand and seawater.

It was a good thing Eva had proven good with her niece because children were exactly what she was there to discuss with her mother.

"There's no dancing around it." Isabella had barely turned on her tablet when she sighed. "Your brother is truly the future of this family's genetic legacy. You simply refuse to bear children of your own."

Eva had long learned to not rub her temples in front of her mother. That was saved for later when she inevitably buried her ire in a hard drink. "I'm so sorry to ruin your visions for the future. I know you've been sniffing around my uterus since I hit puberty, but believe it or not, I have zero interest in getting knocked up with whoever's sperm you deem acceptable." She could barely say that without choking on bile. Eva wasn't simply averse to pregnancy and childbirth – she abhorred everything about the baby-making process. Mostly the man, and what men contributed to the creation of children.

"We are blessed that your brother had the foresight to save some of his genetic material when he was younger. Even he is not as young as he used to be."

Eva couldn't hold back her tongue this time. It spat right out of her mouth, complete with an audible blech! "You have such a crafty way with words, Mom. Tell me more about your son's ‘genetic material' and who helped him put it on ice." It was his wife, the other woman Isabella hated more than being alive in 2023.

Isabella glossed over her daughter's "vulgar" mouth. "Believe me when I say I don't enjoy this conversation, but you've left me no choice, Eva." She crossed something out in her document and grunted, "It's like you've spent your entire life thwarting authority at every turn."

"Sorry, you can't tell your daughter when and where to start having babies. Let alone with whom. I know it was a disappointment having children with their own wills and personalities, but that's what you got."

"Why must you be so impervious to reason?"

"Why are you such a bitch?"

Isabella slammed her stylus onto the counter, her eyes attempting – quite pathetically – to strike the fear of God into her youngest child. Too bad for her, Eva was in her thirties and no longer dependent on her mother's approval, not that she ever had it. Eva was surrounded by people in her corner. Her wife, for one. Her brother and sister-in-law for another. Isabella's influence in the Warren family had dwindled to almost nothing in the past ten years.

Except that didn't mean Eva underestimated her mother's wiles. When Isabella was truly pushed to the limits, she was a dangerous woman.

"We had a deal when you married that woman," Isabella snapped. "Four years ago, we agreed that you would have your first child by your seventh anniversary. Or by the time she's thirty-five. How old is she, again?"

Eva didn't say an exact number. "She's younger than me. Remember how old I am?"

Isabella's ire grew, but she still didn't take her daughter's bait. "Let's focus on the future, then. When can I expect a grandchild from your side of the family?"

Although Eva willingly walked into this conversation knowing exactly how it would go, she still balked to be talked to as if she were an animal and her wife another creature to control. You don't exactly pencil this stuff in, Mom. Yet Eva knew who she was talking to. According to Warren legend, Isabella had Henry no fewer than two years after marriage and Eva several years later when she suddenly realized they needed a spare heir in the family. She got me. Cry about it.

"Nadia and I have talked about this recently, believe it or not." Eva cut off eye contact with her mother, who looked like she didn't believe a word she heard. "We had a plan after we got married, but the pandemic waylaid most of that. Or do you forget that Covid happened about three months after our wedding?" Eva and Nadia weren't back from their extended honeymoon when whispers turned into full-blown panic. What they thought would be a few months of enjoying each other's company at home soon turned into two years of frustration as Eva's corporation folded and Nadia's anxiety shot through the roof. The thought of having children anytime soon made Eva ill and Nadia have a panic attack. How could they even think about it when they were still trying to get their lives back on track? Eva still didn't have a career to make herself feel useful!

Because she was tired of being the eternal "heiress" who merely lived off her family's massive net worth. It made her feel like a leech, and not only because her mother was an asshole about it. What kind of parent would I be if the only example I gave my kids was being an heiress? "Time marches on, Evangeline," Isabella curtly said. "You can't spend your whole youth playing around. At some point, you have to give something back to your family. In your case, it's children. This family needs to ensure its next generation, barring an unfortunate circumstance with my granddaughter."

Eva didn't like the way that sounded. A bit too ominous, Mom.

"I'd like to circle back to the adoption idea," Eva said. "Fastest way we can get the grandchild of your dreams." With no possible medical emergency lobbied at my wife.

Isabella leveled her gaze at Eva. "They must be genetically a Warren. You cannot be serious, otherwise."

"Of course not. Gotta make sure the family coffers stay with the correct genetics, right?"

"Your desire to constantly test me is noted, but I'm not falling for your coarse words. Grow up, Evangeline. You'll be a parent sooner rather than later."

She's got a point. Eva hated to admit it.

"Obviously I cannot tell you what gender to have, especially these days." Isabella scoffed. "But your brother already has a girl, and he and that woman have made it clear they're not having more. So, if you could have a son, that would be fantastic."

"I'll get right on it." What Eva didn't say was that she didn't know the first thing about raising boys. She doubted Henry did, either. We are such a feminine family…

"Three more years," Isabella said. "You signed a contract."

"One that is not enforceable in court, I may add."

"There are aspects of it that are."

"Oh?" Eva's fingers played with the rim of her glass. "Do tell."

"You may have your own money now," Isabella said, referring to the trusts that had matured throughout Eva's life, "but unless you've invested wisely, that money will not last you and your wife your whole lives. You may not like it, but your brother still only controls so much of the family's accounts."

"He's the head of the family. Has been for years."

"Of course. He's done a decent job, but I have control of your father's will. I decide who gets the family's money when he and I pass. And I've decided." The way Isabella squared her shoulders in the face of such tragic adversity would have made Eva laugh if this wasn't so evidently important. "It's either my grandchildren or charity. You and Henry will not see a penny beyond what ensures the next generation, may they make me prouder than you two have."

Eva only slightly bristled. "Good thing I'm not interested in the money. I've got my own, as you said." She had another thought. "What of Warren Manor?"

"It will pass to your brother, don't you worry. I'm not donating property to charity."

"Of course not. That's preposterous."

"Be serious for one minute. I am telling you, Evangeline, that your inheritance is conditional, and always has been."

"Which is why we were cowed into marrying in the first place, isn't it? To appease you and my inheritance."

"Hush. I merely steer you in the proper direction. As proper as I can, anyway."

"Look, Mom." Eva knew when to be mature in the moment, and she wanted this meeting over, preferably without any blood on the counter. "We understand. Nadia and I have never been directly opposed to having a small family, but let it be known that it's not for you. It would be for us. While we will absolutely ensure the future of any progeny that we may have, it's under the condition that you do not interfere with their development. We are willing to let you have a relationship with any of your grandchildren…"

"Let me?"

"…but that's conditional, too. Like my inheritance." Eva would have patted herself on the back for standing up to her mother, but there was more she wanted to say. "Nadia fully intends to become a mother in the next few years. We're merely figuring out the timing. And, yes, we will use Henry's, uh…" Nope. She couldn't bring herself to say it, but Eva knew her mother understood. "He will genetically be the father, as we discussed before I got married."

Isabella almost came off as appeased. Then, before Eva got too complacent, "What if it turns out that your wife cannot properly conceive?"

Eva was prepared for that as well. "We have all discussed that as well. A surrogacy should be in order. Is that all right with you?" Eva pushed buttons again. "As long as it's genetically a Warren, that's all that matters, right?"

Isabella narrowed her eyes. "Whose eggs would the surrogate use?"

Eva didn't miss a beat. "Nadia's."

"So, I'm saddled with an Irish grandchild no matter what."

That almost made Eva laugh. Who knew her mother was so funny? "You realize my wife is gorgeous, right? Do you know how many women would kill to look as ‘Irish' as her? Her hair is natural. Completely unreal shade of red." It was that red hair that made their meeting even happen. Nadia was the first to admit that she gained her position as Ethan Cole's receptionist not because of a stunning résumé – which, yes, she had – but her appearance. She was her own level of stunning that few other women touched. She's all mine. That was what made Eva the most chuffed because it had not been easy convincing Nadia to be her girlfriend!

"Your wife turns heads, yes," Isabella said. "It will be interesting to see what the children look like."

Eva had to cut it off there before more of her brain cells dripped out of her ear. I can never tell if this woman is weird or secretly donating to racial supremacist organizations. Eva couldn't look at her mother without remembering the first time Nadia had dinner with the whole family. Isabella had bluntly asked her if she was Jewish, and it wasn't an accident.

Eva reminded herself that she and Nadia had each other. Her brother and his wife were on their side. Any children they collectively had would not grow up with these weird ideas Isabella espoused. Both Henry and Eva would make sure of it.

God, we sound more like a married couple than siblings. With an age gap like theirs, it was practically scripted for them.

There was more for them to discuss over the next few days, but Eva needed a break. She could only take so much of her mother's bullshit without going straight into a coma.