“Well,” Edna said when Isabelle walked into the kitchen. “You look terrible.”
Isabelle sighed. Makeup, it seemed, couldn’t perform the miracles all the TV commercials promised. “Thanks. Just what I needed to hear.”
Edna was in her sixties, with short silver hair that stood up in tufted spikes. Her brown eyes were warm and kind and a little too knowing sometimes. Today she wore her favored black jeans, black sneakers and a red sweatshirt that proclaimed, For Most of History, Anonymous Was a Woman.—Virginia Woolf.
“Seriously, did you get any sleep?” Edna pulled a mug from under the single-serve coffeemaker and handed it over.
It was gray and cold outside, typical January weather in Colorado. But the kitchen was bright and warm and filled with the scents of coffee and the breakfast Edna insisted on making fresh every morning.
Grateful for the ready coffee, Isabelle took the cup and had her first glorious sip. As the hot caffeine slid into her system, she looked at her housekeeper and gave her a wry smile. “Not much.”
Sipping her own coffee, Edna gave her a hard look. “Because of Wes?”
She jolted and stared at the other woman. “How do you know about him?”
“Caro told us this morning. She says he’s pretty and that you said he’s a friend.” Edna tipped her head to one side. “Marco told me to butt out, but who listens to husbands? So, Wes is more than a friend, isn’t he?”
Before answering that question, Isabelle looked around and then asked, “Where’s Caro?”
“Outside with Marco. She wanted to make sure the snowman they made last weekend was still standing.” She paused. “So? Who is he?”
“We’ve known each other way too long.”
Edna laughed. “That’s what happens when you grow up in a town of twelve hundred people. We all know too much about each other. Probably keeps us all on the up and up. Can’t do a damn thing wrong around here and get away with it.” She narrowed her eyes. “And you’re stalling.”
“I know.” Pulling out a stool at the island counter, Isabelle dropped onto it and reached out to grab a biscuit she knew would be stuffed with ham and scrambled eggs. It was Caroline’s favorite breakfast, so naturally the indulgent Edna made them a lot. Taking a bite she chewed and said, “He’s Caro’s father.”
“Whoa.” Edna’s eyebrows shot up. “Wasn’t expecting that.” She leaned on the countertop. “What does he want?”
“Caro.” She took another bite and chewed glumly.
The other woman straightened up in a blink. “Well, he can’t have her.”
It was good to have friends, Isabelle told herself with a quiet sigh. She’d known Edna and Marco her whole life. They’d both worked for her family since Isabelle was a child. And at an age when they could have retired, instead, they’d come to work for Isabelle, to help raise Caro. And she knew that she would never be able to pay them back for their friendship or their loyalty.
Smiling, Isabelle said, “No, he can’t. But to be fair, he doesn’t want to take her away, he just wants to be a part of her life.”
“That’s a bad thing?” Edna pushed the plate of biscuits closer to Isabelle. “Talk and eat. You’re too thin.”
Isabelle knew it was useless to argue, so she dutifully took another one. “It’s not bad necessarily,” she said, breaking off a piece of biscuit and egg to pop into her mouth. “But it’s...complicated. Caro doesn’t know who he is and I don’t know how much he’s going to push for. Plus, he’s so angry that I never told him about her that he’s not even trying to be reasonable...”
“Are you?”
Isabelle’s gaze shot to Edna’s. “Hey. Whose side are you on, anyway?”
“Yours. Absolutely.” Reaching over for a dishcloth, Edna wiped up a few crumbs. “But come on, sweetie. The man’s a father and you never told him. Most men like to know if their sperm scores a goal.”
She snorted a laugh even while she nodded. “True. But he said he didn’t want kids.”
“That’s before he had one.” Edna sighed and leaned on the counter again so she could look directly into Isabelle’s eyes. “Even Marco didn’t want kids till we had our first one.”
“That’s hard to believe.” Frowning, Isabelle remembered how Marco had devoted himself to Edna and their three kids. Even now, he spent most of his free time with their grandchildren. A more family-based man she’d never known.
“Well, it’s true.” Edna shook her head and grinned. “When I told him I was pregnant the first time, the man went pale—and with that Italian olive complexion of his, it wasn’t easy.”
Isabelle laughed a little. True.
“My point is, he completely freaked,” Edna admitted. “I think he was scared, though God knows a man will never admit to that. But once he came around to the idea of being somebody’s daddy, he was all for it, and the man is the best father in the world.”
“He is,” Isabelle murmured.
“So why not cut this Wes guy a break and see what happens?” Edna shrugged. “You two might find a way to work through this.”
“Anything’s possible, I suppose.” But at the moment, Isabelle was having a hard time believing that. She could remember, so clearly, how it had felt to have him looming close to her last night. She’d felt the heat of him reaching for her. And when she’d pushed him away, she’d come very close to grabbing him instead and pulling him closer.
Really irritating that she could be furious with him and still want him so badly.
“Is there more going on here than just worry for Caro?” Edna asked quietly.
Isabelle looked at the other woman. “Too much and not enough all at the same time.”
Edna took a sip of coffee. “I hate when that happens.”
* * *
Room service brought him coffee and toast. Wes ate and drank while he ran through the latest stream of emails clogging up his inbox. Deleting as he went, he kept expecting to see another message from Maverick. Why, he didn’t know. The damage had already been done. But wouldn’t he want to gloat? Wes really hoped so, because just one more email from the mystery man might be enough to help Wes’s IT department nail the bastard.
Until that happy day, Wes focused on what he could do. The TV was on, the local news channel a constant murmur of sound in the room. One part of Wes’s mind paid attention to the reporters, wondering if he’d hear more about this Maverick mess. Meanwhile, he concentrated on answering business emails, then made a call to his VP. When Harry answered, Wes smiled. Good to know his employees were up and working as early as he was.
“Morning, Wes,” Harry said. “Sorry to say, if you’re calling for an update on Maverick, I don’t have one for you yet.”
Scowling, Wes rubbed his forehead and walked to the French doors of his suite. It was too damned cold to throw them open, so he settled for holding back the drapes and staring out at Swan Hollow as the small town woke up. The clouds were low and gray—no surprise, and yet more snow was forecasted for today.
“How is it no one can nail this guy—or woman?” Wes grumbled, not really expecting an answer. “Is Maverick some kind of technical ninja or something?”
Harry laughed shortly. “No. So far, he’s just been lucky. He got in and out of your account so fast, the IT guys couldn’t track him. But Jones in IT tells me he’s rigged it to let him know if anyone tries to breach again.”
“Well, that’s something.” It was a lot, really, just not enough. Wes didn’t function well with helplessness. Because he’d never accepted it before. Always, he’d been able to do something. He’d never been in the position of standing on the sidelines, watching other players make moves he couldn’t.
And he didn’t like it.
“Not enough, I know,” Harry said, as if he knew exactly what Wes was thinking. “But we’re still working it.
On the downside, Teddy Bradford won’t take my call, so if you want to try to do CPR on that merger, you’ll have to reach out to him yourself.”
“Yeah, I tried before I left Texas. He blew me off, too.”
“It may just be over, boss.”
“No, I won’t accept that,” Wes said. “We spent nearly two years putting that merger on the table and I’ll be damned before I let some cowardly rumormonger ruin it. There’s a way to save us taking over PlayCo, and I’ll find it.”
“If you say so,” Harry told him, but disbelief was clear in his tone.
Fine, he’d proved people wrong before, and he could do it again. Turning away from the view, Wes voiced a suspicion that had occurred to him only late last night. “You think maybe Teddy’s working this from both angles?”
A pause while Harry thought about it. “What exactly do you mean?”
Wes had been turning this over in his mind for hours now, and though it sounded twisted, he thought it could just be true. “Well, we had a deal and he’s backed out—what if he and Maverick were in on it together?”
“For what reason?” Harry asked, not shooting down the theory right away.
Any number of reasons, really, Wes told himself, but the most likely one had slipped into his mind last night and refused to leave. “Maybe he’s lined up a deal with a different toy company and needed a way to get out of our merger without looking bad.”
There was a long pause as Harry considered the idea. “Anything’s possible,” he said, his voice slow and thoughtful. “I’ll put some feelers out. I’ve got some friends over at Toy America. I’ll talk to them. See what I can find out.”
“Good. Let me know ASAP if you discover anything.” Wes picked up the coffee carafe from the dining table and poured himself another cup. If Bradford was working with Maverick to try to ruin Wes and his company’s reputation, heads were going to roll. “I’m going to be here at least a few more days—”
“Yeah.” Harry sighed. “Okay, I promised myself I wouldn’t ask why you were in Duck Springs, Colorado...”
Unexpectedly, Wes laughed. “Swan Hollow.”
“What’s the difference?” Harry asked. Then before Wes could speak, he said, “Just tell me. Is everything all right?”
Wes’s smile faded slowly. Things were as far from all right as they could get, he thought, but he didn’t bother to say anything. Harry and the rest of the company had probably figured out that Maverick’s email about Wes’s daughter had been nothing but the truth. But that didn’t mean he was ready to discuss it with everyone. Not even his friend Harry.
“Yeah,” he said, gulping coffee. “Everything’s fine. I just have a few...personal issues to work out.”
Understatement of the century. There was so much rushing through his mind, he hadn’t gotten more than a couple of hours of sleep all night. And this morning, Wes felt like his eyeballs had been rolled around in sand. In those long sleepless hours, his brain had raced with images, ideas. A daughter. The dead merger. A saboteur—perhaps even his ex—trying to take down his business. And then there was Belle. A woman he should know better than to want—yet apparently his body hadn’t gotten that memo.
“If you say so.” Harry didn’t sound convinced, but then he added, “When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here. And if I can do something, let me know.”
“Find Maverick,” Wes said. “That’s what I need you to do. Keep everyone on it. I want to know who and where this guy is.”
“We’re working it, boss. Do what you have to do and don’t worry about what’s going on back in Houston. We’ll find him. I’ll be in touch.”
After Harry hung up, Wes tossed his phone onto the couch and grabbed the remote when he saw the stock report flash onto the television screen. Draining his coffee cup, he punched up the volume and then cursed as the anchor started speaking.
“Things are not looking good for TTG Inc.,” the man said in a low, deep voice. “Texas Toy Goods’ stock has taken a hard dip over the last couple of days. CEO Wes Jackson has not yet commented on the short-lived scandal that apparently was behind Teddy Bradford of PlayCo announcing the end of their much-anticipated merger.”
The stocks reporter then turned to the digital screen behind him and tracked the TTG stock on a downward slide. Meanwhile Wes’s temper inched up in an opposite trajectory.
“TTG Inc.,” the man said, “is down five points, and my sources say there are no immediate plans to put the merger back in play. PlayCo, the anticipated merger partner, on the other hand, has ticked up two points in the last twenty-four hours.”
Disgusted, Wes hit the mute button and wished fervently that his thoughts were as easy to silence. One thing he knew for sure. Once a stock started slipping, the whole thing took on a life of its own. People would worry and sell off their stock and his price would dip even lower.
He had to put a stop to this before he lost everything he’d worked for. Stalking to the carafe of coffee, he refilled his cup and carried it with him to the door when a knock sounded.
Who the hell could that be? Room service had already come and gone. He doubted very much that Belle would be dropping in for a visit. And he was in no mood to talk to anybody else. Riding on temper, he yanked the door open and demanded, “What?”
A tall man in a heavy brown coat with a sheepskin collar stood on the threshold. He had narrowed blue eyes, short, light brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Two men with a slight resemblance to the first man stood right behind him, and not one of them looked happy to be there. Wes braced himself for whatever was coming.
“You Wes Jackson?” The first man spoke while the other two continued to glare at Wes.
“Yeah, I am.” He met that flat cool stare with one of his own. “Who’re you?”
“Chance Graystone.”
Damn it. Well, Belle had warned him about her older brothers. Looked like he was going to meet the family whether he wanted to or not.
Chance jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “My brothers, Eli and Tyler. We’re here to talk to you.”
“That’s great.” They didn’t give Wes an opportunity to shut the door on them. Instead, all three of them pushed past him into the room. Each of them somehow managing to give Wes an accidental shove as they did.
“Well, sure,” he said. “Come on in.”
All three men stood in the living room of the suite, waiting for him. Their stances were identical. Feet braced wide apart, arms across their chests, features cold, mouths tight. They could have stepped right out of an old Western movie—three sheriffs ready to face the outlaw. Who would, he told himself, be him.
There was no avoiding this. Slowly, Wes closed the door then glanced down into the cup he held. “This is not gonna be enough coffee.”
Still, he took a sip to steel himself then deliberately took his time as he strolled out to meet Belle’s brothers. He had no idea what was coming. Did they want to talk? Fight? Ride him out of town on a rail? Who the hell knew? Setting his coffee cup down on the closest table, he faced the three men. Wes guessed Chance was the oldest, since he took the lead in the conversation.
“We’re here to set you straight on a few things.”
“Is that right?” Wes wasn’t intimidated, though he had the feeling the Graystone brothers were used to putting the fear of God into whoever happened to be standing against them at the time. Well, they were going to have a hard time with him. He didn’t scare easily, and he never backed down when he knew he was right.
“That’s about it,” Chance said in a flat, dark voice. “Isabelle’s our sister. Caro’s our niece. You do anything to hurt either one of them and we’re going to have a problem.”
Wes shifted his stance to mock the three men facing him. Arms across his chest, he glared at each of them in turn before settling his gaze back on Chance. “I’d say that
what happens between Belle and me is our business.”
Chance took a single step forward. “Then you’d be wrong. You made your choice. You let her walk out of your life five years ago.”
Though he might have a point, Wes didn’t acknowledge it. “She didn’t tell me about our daughter.”
The two brothers behind Chance exchanged a quick look. “He’s right about that,” one of them said.
Chance nodded. “Yeah, she should have told you. I give you that.”
“Thanks,” Wes said wryly.
“We told her so when she first came home. It wasn’t right, her keeping it from you.”
“Agreed.”
“But Isabelle does things her way. Always has. She doesn’t take advice well.”
“Yeah,” Wes said. “Me neither. Who knew she and I would have that in common?” One of the brothers—Eli or Tyler, he didn’t know which was which—smiled at that. “Just how did you guys know I was here? Did Belle send you to scare me off?”
“This is a small town, man. Word started spreading the minute you drove up to Isabelle’s house, and the talk hasn’t slowed down since.” Chance laughed shortly. “Besides, there is no way Isabelle would have come running to us. Our little sister doesn’t need a man to protect her.”
Wes waved one hand at the three of them. “And yet...”
Chance smiled slightly. “Just because she doesn’t need it doesn’t mean she won’t get it.”
He could understand that. Family standing for family. But knowing that didn’t mean he liked being warned off or threatened.
“Fine.” Wes nodded and met Chance’s steady gaze with his own. “I’m not here to hurt Belle. I’m here to connect with my daughter. And,” he added, “there’s no way you can stop me.”
The Tycoon's Secret Child Page 7
