Secrets & Chance (The Sterlings Book 1)

by Lynn Hastings

  He sat closer to Rosalie when he returned to the sofa. But he still planted his perfect rear on the edge. “Okay, Grandmother, now what is this all about?”

  Edna made herself more comfortable in her seat.

  “There are only two people alive who know how the Sterling fortune came to be.”

  Chance scooted back. It seemed as if when he realized his arm was too close to Rosalie’s, he folded his arms and leaned away from her. She tried not to show how awkward his adjustment made her feel.

  “I’m the only child of my parents, Fiona and Stuart Campbell. My mother had complications while birthing me and was told she would never be able to have another child. My grandparents strongly advised my father to divorce my mother because she had become barren. Producing a male heir to carry on our family fortune was his obligation, especially in those days. We women were seen as too feeble-minded to conduct business. But my father believed my mother was the one love of his life, so he brokered a deal with my grandfather. When the time came for me to marry, my husband would be chosen for me.”

  “Your marriage to Grandfather was arranged?” Chance asked as if the idea was too outlandish to ever be true.

  Edna pressed her lips together as if the memories pained her. “Yes.”

  Rosalie nodded. She had already known that Edna and her late husband, Conrad, were never in love. However, she had never known the particulars of how their marriage came into existence.

  “But what does any of this have to do with you dying?” Chance asked.

  “Sweetheart, nobody’s dying.”

  Chance glanced at Rosalie as he adjusted in his seat and stretched his neck from one side to the other.

  “I need you both to follow what I’m about to say closely. Do you need a minute?” Her glare remained stuck on Chance.

  He took another deep breath. “No. Continue.”

  She nodded once. “Cecil James Sterling became prosperous during the gold rush. Then he took his capital and started the Sterling North Steel Company. The Sterlings were becoming one of the richest families in America until…” Edna turned to look toward the dwindling light of day. “The richest men were not the most moral individuals. Cecil had the constitution to deal with the devils, but Gregory, his great-grandson, didn’t. Gregory’s body was found hanging in his office, above his desk. The murderers hammered a meat hook in the ceiling and used it to hang him by a rope that was tied around his neck. The Sterlings were forced to sell their business to the only bidder or sacrifice another Sterling to the rope.”

  “That’s pretty awful, Grandmother,” Chance said.

  “Yes.” Edna exhaled. “Yes, it is.”

  Rosalie hadn’t realized it until now, but she and Chance had moved closer to each other. Although she was still confused by where the tale was going, the details foreshadowed a daunting conclusion.

  Edna went on to tell them how after Gregory’s murder, Andrew Sterling had been in charge of what was left of the Sterling fortune. Andrew and her father were good friends. Stuart Campbell was also a very wealthy and ruthless businessman. Prohibition handed him his first wall of wealth. But unlike many men who dove into the illegal practice of bootlegging, Edna’s grandfather ran small operations all over the country and produced and sold his own brands of whisky, vodka, and rum. Edna and her husband, Conrad, were born the year Prohibition ended. After her mother suffered those complications that left her unable to bear future children, Stuart was distraught, but Andrew Sterling’s wife, Peggy, had just given birth to a son earlier that month. And so the fathers brokered a deal that stated their children would marry at the age of seventeen. The contract had been written in black and white, and what would’ve been the Campbell brand of spirits had become labeled as Sterling Spirits and Wine.

  Chance grunted intriguingly. “So what’s the significance here?”

  Edna watched him with narrowed eyes. It was hard to tell what she was thinking. “Imagine being married for forty-three years without being in love.”

  Chance opened and closed his mouth.

  “My father was a smart man. There were provisions in the contract, which made sure the Campbells’ legacy would never be forgotten.” She smiled tightly at Chance. “Darling, your grandfather hadn’t an ounce of fidelity in his bones and less than a jot of virtuousness.”

  Chance nodded stiffly as he leaned away from Rosalie. “So you called me here to discuss the protective provisions?”

  Edna’s gaze ping-ponged between Chance and Rosalie as she watched them with an amused smile. “I ask that you keep what we have discussed in this room between us,” she finally said.

  “Sure,” Rosalie said.

  “Of course, Grandmother.”

  Rosalie didn’t like the way Chance said “grandmother.” It felt to her as though he was subtly claiming ownership of Edna that he knew she didn’t have.

  “Very good. Now then, the two of you will meet with Frederick tomorrow at ten thirty a.m.”

  Chance’s frown intensified. “Frederick Holland?”

  “Your lawyer?” Rosalie asked.

  Chance glanced at Rosalie with a look that chastised her for crossing the line, proving to her that he was just another Sterling man dickwad.

  The more he tried to squeeze her out of the conversation, the more Rosalie wanted to prove that if Edna was calling on her closest confidants, then she certainly was one of them. However, she couldn’t deny the fact that Chance was making her feel like insignificant scum from the other side of the mountain.

  “I must ask you both to promise something,” Edna said.

  “What is it, Grandmother?”

  Rosalie rolled her eyes because he had used the same possessive tone.

  “Tomorrow when you meet with Frederick, you ask no questions. You only do what he instructs.”

  “Why?” Chance asked.

  Edna enfolded her fingers and set them delicately on her lap. “Because it’s what I’m asking. And also, we should keep this meeting to ourselves.” She set her strong gaze on Chance since he clearly needed the most convincing.

  He stretched his neck again but finally said, “Whatever you want, Grandmother, okay.”

  Then Edna looked at Rosalie, who nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  Rosalie could feel Chance’s rigid energy attack her.

  Edna slapped her thighs jubilantly. “Well then…” She shot to her feet like a woman who was half her age, and Chance followed suit.

  “So what do you want to do for today, Grandmother?” he asked.

  “I want to bathe and rest for a while before dinner.” Edna sighed as if her day had been long enough. “But I expect to see you both at the dining room table at seven?”

  “Yes,” Chance said sternly.

  “Of course, yes,” Rosalie said.

  Edna smiled at them both without speaking another word, and together, they watched her until she was out of sight. Rosalie dreaded the moment she would be alone with Chance. It was still not clear whether they would be friends or foes.

  He whipped himself around to face her. “Why are you here?” There was no sign in his bitter expression that he could ever care for her.

  But Rosalie crossed her arms, determined to stand up for herself. “Excuse me?”

  “Why would my grandmother include you in whatever harebrained scheme she’s hatched? You’re only my cousin’s ex-wife.”

  Rosalie pressed a hand to her chest and gasped. “Wait a minute. Harebrained scheme? Were you just being patronizing to Edna?”

  He appeared totally stunned by her question. “What? No.”

  “Great, because Edna has always been a sensible woman, and I’m sure she has a very good reason for her secrecy,” she said.

  Chance opened and closed his mouth. So what that he looked hot with his lips pressed together, making them form a slight grimace? The two of them engaged in a major stare-down. There was no way Rosalie was going to look away first, even if her heart was beating so fast that it wanted to run out of her
chest and make out with his. And really, could she ever like Chance Sterling as a person? As soon as Edna had left, he decided to attack her. Intimidation, accusations, and threats were the Sterling men’s ways. She had taken it while married to Peter, but she was ready to battle Chance to his bitter end.

  “Rosalie? Is that you?” a woman asked.

  Rosalie and Chance broke the stare-off and turned their curious glares toward the entry.

  Rosalie rolled her eyes. “Susan.” Her heart sank. Her ex-husband’s current wife, who was his ex-girlfriend from high school, was the last person she wanted to see.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Susan asked.

  Rosalie snarled. The moment was overwhelming, and she wanted to run back to her car and drive home. And she would have if Edna hadn’t been expecting her for dinner that night and a meeting the next day with Frederick Holland. There were reasons why she’d missed Edna’s last six birthday parties, and she was looking one of them in the eyes.

  Teresa walked into the room and stood beside Susan. “Your room is ready, Miss Stetson. I can take you now.”

  Rosalie threw her hands up in relief. “Thank you.” She walked off without giving Chance Sterling or Susan a second glance.

  AS ROSALIE WALKED through the manor, it almost felt like home. The only reason she felt that way was because Edna had always treated her as if she mattered, as if she had a voice in this world. Rosalie’s feet beat against the familiar white marble floors until she reached one side of the arched staircase, which was made of more white marble and had a scarlet-red carpet runner in the center. She clutched the black iron banister as she walked up the steps, remembering that it was one of the last representations of old money left in the house. Edna had spent most of the last decade giving the house a contemporary yet elegant English country home feel.

  However, her sons Baylor, Carlton, and Douglas had fought her tooth and nail to preserve some of the house’s original flair. Edna always said that her sons had been counting their inheritance from the day they were born.

  During one of their many long walks, Edna had once asked Rosalie, “What happens when you have four sons and one fortune?”

  “Mayhem,” Rosalie replied.

  “Worse. A bloodbath.”

  Since then, Rosalie had pictured all the Sterling brothers and their sons wearing togas while attacking each other with daggers. Such treachery would not be beneath them.

  Edna had had the staff prepare a room for Rosalie on the southwest-facing end of the house. A fire was already kindling, making the room gently warm. Rosalie flopped down on the edge of the king-sized bed. She lifted her foot and pulled off one shoe then the other. Oh, how her back ached after that long drive.

  She closed her eyes and forced her mind to not think about how Chance Sterling had just pissed her off. What a douchebag. Then there was all the mystery surrounding Edna’s very strange meeting with them and her request that they meet with Frederick Holland tomorrow and ask no questions. Rosalie trusted Edna enough to believe the woman would never do anything to put her in harm’s way, but asking no questions wouldn’t have been very lawyerly of her.

  Rosalie sighed as she opened her eyes and searched past her right shoulder to catch a view of the lemon grove. Due to the rapidly dwindling day and the time of year it was, she had to rely on memories of how miraculously beautiful the trees were when full of fruit, which glowed in the summer sun. At the moment, the trees were mostly woody branches. However, it wasn’t so dark that she couldn’t see the majestic mountains in the distance. The longer she tried to occupy her mind with nothing, the more a nagging thought tugged at her.

  Why was Susan at Sterling Manor without Peter? Edna and Susan weren’t close. As a matter of fact, Edna cared very little for what she called Susan’s entitlement, which was a severe lack of empathy and an acute lack of desire to do something about it. The last time Rosalie had checked, Susan’s behavior hadn’t changed and neither had Edna’s opinion of her.

  So what is she doing here?

  Rosalie stopped lending her thoughts to that question when she remembered that she had powered off her cell phone. She could argue that no one’s phone rang more than hers. Between receiving calls from her family and job, she seemed to be always in demand. She expected Dennis Hasterick, her boss, to blow up her voice mail. He was the one she was avoiding. Rosalie had just finished pissing off higher-ups yet again by actually fighting Nick Lyons, the deputy district attorney, in a case the county didn’t want to lose.

  Something had to give when it came to her job. With the enormous number of cases that she was assigned, Dennis and the higher-ups had hoped she was too swamped to give defendants the sort of defense every citizen deserves. However, she had no social life, so she had nothing better to do than try every single one of her cases to the best of her ability. She couldn’t continue winning against the district attorneys even though she secretly loved it. Her victories weren’t beneficial for all elected officials involved. She remembered her first case. The deputy district attorney had just blatantly lied about the extent of her client’s alleged crime. He’d spewed bloated numbers and make-believe accusations to the judge. Rosalie had nearly hyperventilated while listening to his fibs. And boy had she had a good time dismantling his claims one accusation at a time. The judge had had to dismiss the charges until the DA’s office found sufficient evidence to prosecute the defendant. She would’ve thought the future district attorneys would have done better than to come half-assed prepared to fight her in court, but nope. Most of them were just too lazy to get off their rears and try harder, and that was what it was going to take to beat her in court.

  As soon as Rosalie turned on her cell phone, it beeped and vibrated to life. However, she didn’t have the desire to check voice mail, so she silenced the phone and sighed as she stood, dropping the device on the mattress. She lifted her arms above her head and stretched her back. That felt good.

  Rosalie walked over to the French doors and opened them. She stepped out onto the balcony, and through the darkness, her eyes tracked the walking path around and between certain rows of the lemon grove. Edna was big on walking to stay healthy. Rosalie hoped that tomorrow morning, Edna would be up for a walk. Maybe she would divulge more of why she wanted Chance and Rosalie to meet with her lawyer.

  Rosalie yawned. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she was. According to the time on her watch, dinner wouldn’t be for another hour and a half. During the long drive, she had stopped at one of those greasy fast-food chains for a burger, fries, and iced tea, so she wasn’t hungry. As a matter of fact, since she rarely ate such food, her stomach was pretty active, gurgling and churning.

  Standing on the balcony had made her cold. The night’s temperature had to be in the forties, which was pretty arctic for a native Californian. She closed the doors and decided to capitalize on the peace, quiet, and comfort by taking a power nap before dinner. She lowered the lights, curled up under the bedspread, and closed her eyes. It didn’t take long before the shimmering warmth flowing from the fireplace lulled her to sleep.

  ROSALIE WALKED along the side of the road. To her left rested a field of green grass, which led to the stack of stony hills. She found herself admiring the craftsman homes that were nestled on top.

  “You’ll never be able to afford one,” Dennis Hasterick said as he walked past her and disappeared into thin air.

  Rosalie was still a little rattled by how Dennis had shown up out of nowhere, when Vera, her mom, appeared beside her.

  “You could’ve owned one of those homes if you hadn’t thrown away your marriage. He didn’t choose the divorce. You did.” Vera shook her head disapprovingly. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

  Rosalie opened her mouth in an attempt to explain how her filing for the divorce was all Peter’s plan to make her the bad guy, but no words would come out. Then a cloud of shame hit her. Vera glared at Rosalie as if she could read her mind and knew her secret. Rosalie and Peter would have n
ever worked because she’d never shown him the real her. Instead, she had created the woman he needed her to be so that she could be his girlfriend first and then his wife.

  Rosalie frowned as she searched beyond her mother at the gas station that was right across the freshly tarred road. Chance Sterling was standing beside his SUV. His long arms hung by his sides as he watched her. Desire shone in his eyes; she was sure of it. Rosalie wanted to wave at him and test the waters by seeing if he would wave back. How embarrassed she would be if he didn’t wave back. They seemed to be watching each other for far too long. She thought that perhaps she should say something, like maybe “hi.”

  Suddenly, her head was filled with the sound of light tapping. Rosalie opened her eyes to find herself still lying in bed. She sighed with relief. That was only a dream.

  FOUR

  ROSALIE STETSON

  “Miss, are you okay?” a tender female voice asked from behind the door.

  Rosalie sat straight up and focused on the door through the dimness. Her head was spinning.

  “Damn it.” She pressed the home button on her cell phone. “Yikes,” she whispered. Dinner had started thirty minutes ago.

  The woman knocked again.

  “I’m fine,” Rosalie said in a gruff voice. She cleared her throat as she leapt to her feet, scampered to the door, and cracked it open. “I’ll be downstairs shortly.” She smiled.

  The woman stared at Rosalie with a look of concern.

  “I’m fine, really,” Rosalie said.

  “You’ll be down soon?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Rosalie waited until the woman walked away before closing the door. The way the woman had studied her left her rattled. It was as if she could tell Rosalie was still thinking about the Chance Sterling who was watching her in her dream.

  Rosalie took a deep breath to steady herself. Jeez, she was losing it. “Chance and I are not an option,” she whispered as she hightailed it to the bathroom to freshen up. She had to make it quick, which meant dousing her eyes with water until they appeared less tired and applying a light coat of concealer to hide the darkness on the skin beneath them.