Fortune's Family Secrets

by Karen Rose Smith

  Nash swirled the wine around in his glass and then took a sip. He nodded to Ricardo that he liked it.

  “Try yours,” Ricardo directed Cassie. “Of course, you’re going to have to try chocolate with it.”

  She swirled the wine in her glass as Nash had done and took a sip. The way she licked her lips afterward made Nash almost break out in a sweat.

  “What do you think?” Nash asked.

  She smiled. “I think my guests might enjoy having this on hand. Let me try it with the chocolate.” She took one of the chocolates on the tray and bit into it. Her expression was so sensual Nash wanted to kiss her before she was even finished the bite.

  “I’ll take a bottle of this one,” she said.

  Ricardo laughed. “But you haven’t tasted the red yet.”

  Next Ricardo brought out Desert Sunset for Cassie, which was a Syrah. He chose Rodeo Nights—a Cabernet Sauvignon—for Nash.

  After Cassie sipped what was in her glass, she shook her head. “I prefer the first one.”

  “Do you want to try it again?” Ricardo asked.

  “No, I don’t need to.”

  He looked at Nash. “Anything else you’d like to taste?”

  “No. I’ll just finish up what I have here. I’ll also take a bottle of the first one.”

  Ricardo looked from one of them to the other. “I’ll go back to my office for a little while so you can relax and enjoy the rest of your wine and the snacks.” He took his leave quickly.

  Cassie exchanged a look with Nash. “I’m not sure what that was about.”

  “My guess is he thinks we want to be alone. That’s not a bad idea, you know.”

  She took another piece of chocolate from the plate and popped it into her mouth. Then she brought her gaze back to his. “So we can enjoy the snacks?”

  Nash leaned toward her, his lips not very far from hers. “Maybe I’d like to taste the wine you were drinking on your lips. Take a sip and we’ll try it.”

  He didn’t know if she’d do it. He’d practically ignored her all week trying to settle how she fit into his life...if she did. After today, he knew she did. If she did let him kiss her again, that meant she was open to more. Though more of what, he wasn’t sure.

  Cassie took a very small sip of wine and then turned back to him. He leaned toward her once again and met her lips, tasting the sweetness on her mouth. But the kiss itself was anything but sweet. He took her lips in a possessive kiss that quickly deepened, their tongues meeting, stroking, striving for more. He broke away before he couldn’t stop something that shouldn’t go on here.

  He tried to treat it lightly. “It must be the wine. I feel dizzy.”

  But she wasn’t smiling. “Nash, this isn’t a good idea.”

  “The wine tasting, the kiss or being alone together?”

  “Take your pick,” she said sadly.

  “Are you saying you don’t want me to kiss you again?”

  “No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying you shouldn’t kiss me again.”

  “Because neither of us need those complications?”

  She nodded.

  “Maybe it doesn’t have to be complicated. Maybe we can just enjoy being together.”

  “I don’t know,” she confessed.

  “Can you tell me why you don’t drink?”

  “I’d rather not,” she said.

  He could easily see she didn’t trust him. If she didn’t trust, then she must have been betrayed by someone. There was a lot more to Cassie Calloway that he had to discover. Could he do it in another two weeks?

  He was going to try.

  Chapter Seven

  That evening Cassie cleaned up after dinner. Her guests had gone out for the evening and so had Nash. He hadn’t come to supper. She thought about that afternoon and the tasting room at the winery. Yes, she still felt the effects of Nash’s kiss when she thought about it, but her real focus was on the questions he’d asked. If you don’t drink, why did you want to come?

  She wished she could tell him her mother was in jail for vehicular homicide. She wished she could tell him her mother had been an alcoholic and that was why she herself didn’t drink.

  Cassie was wiping her hands on a kitchen towel when someone knocked at the front door. Cassie knew who it was immediately. Renata Garcia always knocked even though Cassie had told her over and over she didn’t have to.

  Cassie hurried to the door so the older woman didn’t have to wait on the porch. She opened the door wide and Renata stood there, a smile on her face, a black shawl around her shoulders.

  “Are you busy?” Renata asked.

  “No, I’m not. The guests ate and left and I’ve finished cleaning up. Come on in. Can I get you something? A cup of tea? Iced tea?”

  “No, I just came over for a little conversation.”

  In other words, Renata was lonely. That was one of the reasons Cassie was planning a birthday party for her next Sunday. Cassie had invited all of Renata’s friends. After conversations with a few of them, she’d realized they wanted to help by bringing casseroles, so it was turning into a covered-dish social.

  The older woman followed Cassie to the sitting area, where she seated herself in a comfortable armchair, letting the shawl drop back.

  “You had a busy day today,” Renata said.

  Cassie knew her neighbor watched the comings and goings from her porch. “I did. Breakfast with guests and then I was out for a bit.”

  “With that nice Mr. Tremont.”

  Cassie had been hoping Renata hadn’t seen that. “Yes, we went to the arts festival at the Palmer Center.”

  “I used to enjoy that,” Renata said, looking a little sad.

  “I wasn’t allowed to take photos inside but I have some of the grounds. Would you like to see them?”

  “Yes, I would.”

  For the next fifteen minutes or so, Cassie sat on the arm of Renata’s chair showing her the photos on her phone.

  “You and Mr. Tremont didn’t come back until late afternoon.”

  Cassie moved back to the sofa. “We stopped at the Mendoza Winery for a bit. I brought back a bottle of wine for my guests.”

  “I see. Has he made any moves yet?” Renata asked.

  “Renata,” Cassie said with exasperation.

  “Just wondering. He’s very nice. You look good together.”

  Still remembering their kiss, Cassie felt the blush rising from her neck to her cheeks. “He’ll be leaving soon. He lives in Mississippi.”

  “Tell me something, Cassie. What if you really liked this man? What if you more than liked him? And if not him, someone else. Would you think about moving?”

  “No,” she said immediately. “I can’t leave Austin.” And the reason? She wouldn’t desert her mother. Even though her mother wouldn’t see Cassie now, there might be a time when she would.

  “Maybe I will take a cup of tea,” Renata said, eyeing Cassie thoughtfully.

  “Coming right up. I even have homemade oatmeal cookies to go with it.”

  “Wonderful,” Renata said.

  But right at this moment Cassie didn’t think anything was wonderful. She had too many questions rolling around her head...and no answers.

  * * *

  On Monday, Cassie sat beside Danny on the porch. Their lesson wasn’t going well because he seemed distracted. There was only one thing to do about that.

  She put a hand on his shoulder and he looked up at her. “You aren’t pleased with anything you’ve painted so far, are you?”

  He shook his head. Then he looked down at his shoes and wouldn’t make eye contact again.

  “Danny, there’s nothing wrong with that. If you only knew how many paintings I’ve started and didn’t finish.”

  That brought his gaze back up to hers. “I’m supposed to fin
ish everything I start.”

  Cassie suspected that that was what Danny’s father had decreed. Finishing for the sake of finishing when you didn’t love what you were doing wasn’t necessarily in your best interest or in the art’s best interest. Cassie took the canvas of a landscape Danny had been working on off the easel.

  When she looked into his eyes, she saw disappointment that she was giving up on him. But she wasn’t.

  Turning to the table where she kept extra supplies, she picked up a sketch pad. Without hesitating, she tore out one of the eleven by fourteen sheets and placed it against a piece of cardboard on the easel. Instead of paints, she picked up a carrier of colored pencils from the table and set it next to Danny. “I’d like you to draw something for me. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Sure,” he said, some of his confidence returning. The reason for that? She’d given him hope.

  “Would you rather do it on the easel or over on the table?”

  “I think I’d rather do it on the table.”

  “No problem.” She made a place for him at the table and he brought over the paper. “I’d like you to draw what’s on your mind. Don’t think about it too much. Just draw it.”

  Danny took her at her word. He picked a few colored pencils from the carrier, set them on the table and then started. He drew quickly as if he didn’t want to think too long about what he was drawing. His mind fed his fingers, and Cassie quickly saw the picture that emerged.

  When Danny had finished, he laid down his pencil and sat back in his chair.

  In the center of the picture, he’d drawn a fence. His mother was on one side of the fence and his father was on the other.

  “Do you mind if I show this to your mom?”

  His expression was worried. “I don’t want her to get mad.”

  “I don’t believe she’ll get mad. I think she wants to know what you’re thinking.”

  “Okay,” Danny agreed reluctantly. “Can I try working on that landscape again?”

  She positioned the canvas on the easel and let him go at it. Fifteen minutes later, she heard the door to the bed-and-breakfast open and then close. Before Dorie could come into the screened-in porch, Cassie smiled at Danny and picked up the picture he’d drawn. “Just keep on painting. I want to talk to your mom for a few minutes.”

  She stepped out from the porch and quickly went into the kitchen. There she placed Danny’s picture on the counter.

  Dorie crossed to her. “What do you have there?”

  “Something I think you should see. Danny couldn’t concentrate and I asked him to draw what was on his mind. This is what he drew.”

  Dorie’s expression became so sad Cassie wanted to put her arm around her. The mom admitted, “I know his dad’s leaving has been hard on him. I don’t know how to make it easier.” Her voice caught and Cassie could see tears in her eyes.

  “The best thing to do is to keep Danny drawing and talking. When he seems troubled, ask him to draw what he’s thinking about. He might be able to express his feelings that way rather than in words.” Cassie knew how she’d kept everything inside all those years when she’d tried to hide the fact that her mom was drinking. Especially when her mom had gone to prison, painting had saved her.

  She’d been so involved with her conversation with Dorie, she hadn’t heard Nash come in. All of a sudden, he was standing there with them. She wondered how much he’d heard.

  He pointed to the porch. “Is it okay if I say hello to Danny?”

  Once again Cassie realized how well Nash handled people.

  “Actually, it would be great if you could keep him occupied for a few minutes,” Dorie said. “I have something to discuss with Cassie.”

  “No problem,” Nash said with a smile.

  As soon as Nash disappeared into the sunporch and started chatting with her son, Dorie assured Cassie, “I’ll try to do what you suggest. Maybe I’ll get him a set of watercolor pencils and he can begin experimenting with those.”

  “That’s a great idea. When he finishes a drawing or a painting, ask him if he’d like to talk about it. Just take your cues from him. I was an introvert as a child and I spoke through my paintings. Not many people saw them but at least I was able to express my feelings that way.”

  Dorie looked nervous for a moment and twisted the handle of her purse. “You’re so good for Danny and you’ve helped us so much. I have a favor to ask.”

  Cassie couldn’t imagine what was coming. She just nodded for Dorie to go ahead.

  “Do you mind if I list you as a contact for Danny at school in case of emergency? Some days I’m in meetings and can’t have my phone turned on. His father usually has his turned off at the office, too.”

  After Cassie thought about the responsibility she’d be taking on, she said, “Sure. That would be fine. I can’t imagine it would happen very often. Danny’s a good student, isn’t he?”

  “He is. But in case he suddenly gets sick or has an accident on the playground, that would help. You’ll have to stop at the school and have your picture taken and get an official ID.”

  “I can do that,” Cassie assured her.

  Dorie impulsively gave her a hug. “Thank you so much. With the divorce, I feel as if all my support has been kicked out from under me. Couples we were friends with suddenly don’t want just a wife hanging around. And my friends have kind of drifted away because I don’t have time for them. When I’m not at work, I’m with Danny and that’s the way it has to be right now.”

  “True friends will understand that. They’ll be waiting when you’re ready for friendship again.”

  “I hope you’re right. But I do feel as if I’ve made a new friend in you.”

  “You have.” It had been years since Cassie had a close friend. She had a feeling Dorie could be one.

  * * *

  As Nash sat in the armchair in the sitting area after he’d chatted with Danny and the boy’s mother had finished her conversation with Cassie, he thought again about an idea that had been plaguing him all day. He had his laptop on the hassock and he wasn’t sure he should do what he wanted to do. As he thought about his kisses with Cassie, he tried to put them in perspective. Still, he didn’t seem to have perspective right now. He just knew he felt closer to Cassie than he’d felt to anyone in a long time. All day he’d been thinking about telling her the truth concerning why he was in Austin. Yes, he’d told her the truth, sort of, but not the importance of who he was going after and not the burden of it.

  He heard Cassie walk Danny and his mom to the door. He heard their chitchat as Cassie encouraged Danny to draw what he felt. He imagined she’d told Dorie to listen to her son, ask a few questions and see if he’d open up.

  In his work, Nash had seen again and again how divorce impacted kids. He also knew firsthand what it was like to grow up without a dad, to miss that strong presence that could make a boy feel secure and encouraged. He’d had to do that for himself. Maybe that was one of the reasons he’d become a cop.

  Cassie broke into his thoughts. She walked in carrying glasses of sweet tea.

  She handed him the glass. “When you came in you looked as if you could use this.”

  “Maybe this and something stronger,” he said, drinking in the sight of her.

  Her eyes widened a bit as she sat across from him in the corner of the sofa. After a few sips of iced tea, she set her glass on a coaster on the coffee table.

  He took a few gulping swallows and set his down, too.

  “Do you want to explain why you need something stronger?” she asked.

  There was more caring in her voice than curiosity, and that was what decided it for him. “I have something to tell you.”

  From the look in her eyes, he could tell she knew this was something serious.

  “Should I be worried about what you’re going to tell me?” she wanted
to know.

  “Are there any guests still in the house?” He didn’t want to be overheard.

  Now she looked almost afraid. “No. Why? No one’s coming after you, are they? You didn’t bring a gun in, did you?”

  “No and no.” He sat forward on his chair. “I want to tell you who I’m investigating. I want to tell you who I really am.”

  “You did that, didn’t you?” She looked confused now, but then she frowned. “Have you been lying to me again? You’re not a detective, either?”

  “Oh, I’m a detective,” he hurried to assure her. “I didn’t tell you the name of the family I’m investigating. I didn’t tell you that that name is mine, too.”

  “This is about your biological father?”

  “Yes. The family I’m investigating is the Fortunes.”

  Slowly she rose from the sofa and came over to sit on the hassock in front of him. “The Fortunes?”

  Relief filled Nash at actually letting the information out. “Yes. Jerome Fortune, also known as Gerald Robinson, is my biological father.”

  “Oh my gosh, Nash. Everyone in Austin knows who Gerald Robinson is. I mean, how many children he fathered has been plastered all over the media.”

  “Not all of them,” Nash determined. “Amazing, isn’t it? He couldn’t have done better if he was a sperm donor, though I guess in a way he was.”

  Cassie still appeared astonished. “And this is the man your mother was in love with?”

  Nash grimaced. “One and the same. I think part of her still loves him. She says he’s gotten a bad rap, and I know she blames a lot of his misbehavior on his wife. But he’s responsible for his actions. Every man is.”

  Cassie nodded slowly as if agreeing with him.

  “I’m not after Gerald Robinson, per se,” he explained.

  “You said you found a thread when you were investigating that led to his wife. She’s the one you’re after, right?”

  Apparently Cassie had listened well when he’d confided in her. “It depends. There’s fraud involved. I’m trying to follow the money trail.”