Back inside, Karen only had a chance to put a few spoons of soup into her mouth before her mother pounced.
“Karen dear, you said you lived with a Mrs Brown. What’s this I hear about you living with Jay?”
Karen glanced down the table at her father, who sat between Jill and Wendy. He was studiously buttering a roll. Then she looked back at her mother at the other end.
“I just said Mrs Brown was very nice and I did say I was Jay’s tenant. Not to mention that I also said I was staying with a friend after the accident.”
She flashed her sweetest smile and glanced at Jay. “Jay is a friend and we happen to share a house,” she said casually.
“I see,” her mother said.
“What do you do?” Karen’s father asked curtly.
“I am an art collector. I own a few galleries as my main line of business and I dabble in other ventures and investments.”
“Hm,” Beau grunted. “You live in America?”
“Yes, sir. I do. I’m based in New Hampshire.”