Alice froze. Her fingers trembled and she reached up to clutch the best-friends-forever necklace Vicki had given her years ago. "Mom, stop. She's been dead for three years now."
Her mother's eyes misted. "I'm sorry. I just love my family and don't want you hurt."
Alice hugged her mother to forgive her, though she shouldn't have spoken ill of Vicki. It was time to pay her respects to her friend's family. Alice patted her mother's back. "You aren't half as mean as you claim to be when it comes to the Morgans. You'd never really kick over the casket."
"You have no idea about that. Mitch Morgan deserves whatever happens to him in the afterlife." Ellie pushed Alice's hair back. "And wipe that lipstick off your face so you don't look like a clown."
Ellie turned to look out the window, and Alice followed her gaze. The sky was a brilliant blue and the smell of ripe strawberries drifted into the house as the wind rustled the crops. Alice rubbed her arms. "Mom, soon you get to move into that new condo on the beach and go to those awesome 55-and-older parties every night."
Her mother gave a reluctant smile then nodded. "The beach is going to be great."
Alice was also moving out of this house to her own condo, though she doubted there were any events or activities she'd have time for other than work.
Now that her brother was getting married, Colt intended to raise his family here, so at least the farm would go on through them. This week Colt had ended his service in the Marines so he could take over the day-to-day farm work, while Alice used her college degree to manage the business aspects.
Alice glanced in the one hall mirror left on the wall near the front door and ensured she had no lipstick on her teeth. She said, "Mom, everything is going to work out. Be peaceful."
Ellie tilted her head. "Your father can't stay here and not try to help out and run the farm. It's hard for him."
"We have to do what's best for Dad's heart." Alice stepped beside her and took her hand. "Collins Organic Fruits will stay profitable and Dad can come visit, but he's not allowed to work."
Ellie's eyes became glassy. "Agreed."
Her niece chose that moment to bounce into the room. Blonde ringlets surrounding her angelic face bobbed as she carried her small brown teddy bear. Alice knelt down. "Come here and give me a hug."
Clara's little hands wrapped around her and the ever-present teddy bear. The scent of strawberries wafted into her nose. "You look so pretty, like my Barbie doll."
Alice smiled at the three-year-old girl. Her niece lived here with them while Colt was away. "I'll never be as sweet as you are, princess."
"Aunt Alice, will you take me for ice cream?" Clara's small hands circled her neck. Alice sighed. She'd rather spend the day with Clara than face the funeral, though she couldn't. Their family needed to stick together, despite what her mother said about the Morgans. Today, Alice would represent the Collins family. She'd ensure that Peter renewed the contract that guaranteed one hundred percent of the farm's items would be shelved in various stores throughout the nation and that her family would make money.
"I can't." Alice unwrapped herself from Clara's hug. She stood and fixed the strap on her black high heel. "I have to go to a wake on business."
Clara's baby blue eyes were wide and full of wonder. "What's a wake? Do you have to wake someone up and jump on the bed?"
"No, sweetheart, but that does sound fun."
Alice smiled and checked her dress in the mirror. John had been so shut down the day of his sister's funeral. Alice used to have a major crush on him. She'd not seem him in years. She fixed her earring. "Be good for Grandma."
Clara nodded and bopped her head to some imaginary music on her way back to the living room. Alice applied one more coat of lipstick. Finished, she packed her pocketbook. She heard her mother's tongue click against her teeth, but she ignored the sound.
At the door of their old house, Alice turned. The entire place was packed with boxes. All the walls were empty. It felt like she was leaving, almost like she'd never come back to her parents, though she had another week until she could move into her new condo. The bare walls held no sign of her childhood. "Bye, Mom."
With the first step onto the porch, the hot South Florida air warmed her skin. The smell of citrus eased her nerves. Naval season would be over in a month.
She headed to her white SUV, caressing the eighteen-carat gold necklace. Today she'd show up for the funeral out of obligation, and love of her dead friend.
Waiting for the air conditioner to cool her down, she reviewed her plan. Peter Morgan, the oldest, would likely take over and she'd deal with him for business. Her family needed to keep that contract with Morgan Enterprises—to lose it would be a death knell to the Collins farm, since the House of Morgan had their hands in almost everything. No other corporation would touch them if they were deemed unfit in any way. The Morgan bank holdings stretched far beyond the stores they invested in and she didn't want to answer the questions that might naturally arise if she ended with a bad rating.
She rubbed the back of her neck. The full blast of air cleared her mind and Alice drove down the dirt road headed toward the paved roads and Coral Gables, which would be an hour or more with traffic.
Tonight she'd stay at a hotel so she didn't have to do this drive twice. Perhaps she'd go to the spa for a massage to ease her tired muscles, a welcome change from packing boxes. The wake and the funeral would be spectacles in and of themselves.
At the funeral home, she drove past so many people in the press she wondered if this was a world premiere of a Hollywood movie and not a funeral for a business tycoon. Cameras took her picture in the car. Alice covered her face to avoid direct eye contact and slid into a parking spot.
Her heels clapped against the pavement as she hurried toward the funeral home, and the press called out for smiles. Alice cringed. Victoria had been a poster child for fashion and elegance, the friend who had taught her how to put on makeup. She was plain with hair that wasn't truly brown but not blonde either.
At the door to the funeral home, Alice stopped. Jennifer Gonzales, the television beauty, held Peter Morgan's arm like they were an item. Jennifer was always sharp with her insults. Alice swallowed. The two of them probably laid in bed together and made fun of the less fortunate, a.k.a. everyone who wasn't them. Alice never understood how sweet Victoria Morgan had such a friend as Jennifer.
Alice stood in line to say hello until she reached Peter and Jennifer. Peter was still speaking to whoever was in front of him in the line, but Jennifer tilted her head. "Oh, look, the help arrived."
Jennifer's beauty would someday melt off her face, and she'd be left an old, wrinkled hag. Alice bit back her retort, and smiled. "I came out of respect for Victoria. She was my friend."
Jennifer shrugged and gazed at her up and down. "Hard to remember what she saw in you. She died years ago. Did you buy that off a rack?"
"Most people do." Alice hugged her waist and chose to ignore anything else Jennifer said. She continued down the line despite her goose bumps. "Peter."
He glanced at her and then spoke to the man behind her in line, like he was someone important and she was not. She pressed her lips together and prayed this had no significance to her own contract renewal.
As she stepped aside, Alice's stomach knotted. Jennifer's jabs still ate at her, even now. Alice's mind reeled with memories of how Jennifer made her life hell back in school. Alice rolled her eyes every time she saw another telenovela starring that woman.
She turned the corner and walked straight into a wall of muscle. Hard arms wrapped around her waist and then steadied her. Alice stepped out of the man's embrace, though her legs were weak, and gazed upward. John Morgan leaned back, and her mouth opened in surprise. His hair was slightly darker now, though it still had strands of pale blond, but those piercing blue eyes, and his huge dimples, were the same. He had lost all pretense of boyhood. The man before her was gorgeous. He was two years her senior, but had never been this hot.
&nbs
p; She swallowed and told herself that "they" would never happen. She was country and the Morgans were players in a game of "rule the world" with their banks. Alice steadied her feet as anchors because her head grew light near him. With bravado, she smiled. "John, it's been a long time."
At least she'd coughed out a sentence that made sense. She took a deep breath.
"Thank you for coming…”
It was clear he didn't remember her name. Alice sucked in her bottom lip, embarrassed. They'd spent hours together at Vicki's funeral, where he'd clearly tried to forget his past with numerous shots of whiskey. She sighed. "I'm Alice Collins. I was a friend of Victoria's."
"The tomboy." John smiled and showed twin dimples just on each corner of his mouth. "I heard what Jennifer said to you. Don't listen to her. You fill out a dress nicely."
At least someone liked her dress. John's face showed sophistication as he scanned the room, studying all the doors and windows. Her jaw clenched as she guessed he was either a cop or a mobster. In this family, was there any difference? She had no idea what to say or how to excuse herself. She was like a groupie with a rock star. His hand settled on her back and her body melted like butter. "Will you escort me to get a drink, Alice?"
Her lips wouldn't move. Not good. John Morgan wasn't supposed to be attractive anymore. She'd thought she was over her crush on the former high school football captain. She curled her arm around his. She tried to say something intelligible but instead she blurted, "Didn't you recognize me a minute ago?"
"From Vicki's funeral, but I tried hard to forget everyone in this city after that. You were the only other person genuinely upset. The only real person there."
Alice understood. They progressed in step. "She wouldn't want you to suffer all your life."
"My father did something to her." He stopped at the bar. "I don't know what happened, but I haven't been able to forget."
Alice pointed to the Sauvignon Blanc. John tugged his ear and nodded to the waiter. She stared at him, unsure what to talk about besides the past. "There was nothing any of us could do. Vicki disappeared without a word and then she was dead."
"What do you remember about her?"
"Her kindness. And her laugh." Alice looked toward the room where a few heads of state gathered around Mitch Morgan in his practically royal casket. John's gaze contained a firestorm of emotion. She tilted her head. "You going in there?"
His expression turned hard and cold. Then he stepped backwards, but his stare never left his father's casket. The steely expression changed to fiery. "You can if you want."
She hugged her waist. She'd asked the wrong thing. Her heart fluttered near John, but she tried to act like an adult instead of a teenager. It was good to see him again. "I don't. I came out of respect for Vicki."
He placed his hand on her arm to lead her to an empty space along the wall. Her skin became alive as he said, "I came because Peter asked. He wants to pretend we're a happy family for the world to see. Look at him now. He's over there as the new king."
He leaned against the wall and let the throngs of people pass. She followed suit, standing next to him as she sipped her wine. "I assumed he was taking over. Did you want that job?"
John's entire body jumped as if she'd slapped him. "Hell no."
She gulped her sip fast. She kept saying the wrong thing. Inside his blue eyes was a kaleidoscope of emotion. Alice remembered that he used to be kind. She rubbed her lips together. "Then who cares?"
He drank his wine and scanned the room. After making the rounds with his gaze, he took in her entire figure with an intensity that made her knees weak. "What is it you do, Alice?"
"Collins Organic Farm." She brushed her brown bob behind her ear. "I work for my family. What is it you do?"
Again, his blue eyes flashed as if lightning was in his stare. She watched him, hypnotized. "I work in real estate."
"Liar." She tilted her head. He definitely didn't work in real estate. She crossed her arm around her chest. Without another word, she waited for the fallout of her remark.
His eyebrows quirked in shock. Then his dimples appeared. "What do you think I do?"
She met his smile with her own. "Professional bad boy and poker player. It's what I always thought."
He chuckled. "I played football."
She nodded. A moment of silence clung in the air as she sipped her drink. Then she said, "I went to your games in high school, but I also remember how you set up more than a few poker games. You always read people correctly."
His sexy smile lit the room and her skin melted, literally fused into itself. "I remember that. You cheered with my sister, and I played you, too."
Perhaps she shouldn't spend the funeral with John, but then again Vicki's older brother could be a good friend to have in her corner for help with the contract. "You did. I'm glad you remember more than just us talking at funerals."
His gaze went past her and flashed toward the casket. He stood straighter and it seemed as if a dark cloud passed over him. His face hardened. "I also remember how my father came to my room as I did homework, handed me a million dollars in cash, had me hold it and touch it—and then he took it away and told me to earn it myself."
She tilted her head. "So did you?"
He clenched his jaw and lifted his chin as if he expected to be hit in the face. "Absolutely not."
She reached out to his arm and squeezed his biceps. "Good. I was always attracted to bums, so you'd fit right in."
Had she just said that out loud… at a wake? Her face was hot. She must have turned beet red.
His dimples appeared again. "Alice, stick to my side tonight. I don't think I like most of the other people here."
"Deal." She finished her wine. "I'd like for us to be friends, and not just people who meet at funerals."
He sighed. Without an answer, he took her empty glass, and placed it on the table next to his. He then turned and leaned closer. "Alice, you're the only woman here who hasn't looked at me with dollar bills in her eyes. Protect me from the vultures."
His right side brushed against her. Her mind turned to pudding. "Glad to be of help, John."
He sucked in his breath. His energy changed as he stood taller. "Here comes Peter."
She also stood straighter and stopped leaning against the wall. She nodded. "You'll need to talk to him."
He clasped her wrist and she froze. His touch hypnotized her. All she could do was stare at him as he said, "Don't leave my side."
If he held her hand, then she'd lose whatever was left of her mind. It was so inappropriate to be lustful at a wake. Her body disagreed. He took her hand and kept her close as Peter approached. It was strange. Victoria's brothers were very different. Peter's dark hair, brown eyes, and six-foot-three figure had muscles, but his presence left Alice cold and indifferent. She couldn't read him, but with John it was entirely different. Her skin electrified when he touched her arm. She swallowed. His lighter hair, blue eyes, and sexy dimples were all she'd ever dreamed about.
John leaned back against the wall and whispered to her, "He's up to something."
She didn't speak as Peter stopped in front of them. Neither of the men said a word to each other. They just stared.
Alice licked her lips and tried to understand what the silence meant. This might be the first time either of them had seen each other since the last funeral, though she couldn't be sure. Peter gazed at her fingers entwined with John's. "We should talk."
"Now?" John asked. His grasp remained firm. "I'm getting reacquainted with an old friend."
Peter nodded. "You'll be here for the reading of the will in a few days?"
John shrugged. "Sure, as long as Alice here keeps talking to me."
"Keep him here." Peter turned toward her. "Your contract depends on it."
John let go of her hand. Alice's heart ached as if she'd just been unmasked as some kind of fraud. She stood next to John as Peter stormed off.
John stood straighter and stiffened in front of her
eyes. "Contract?"
"My family's produce gets sold in supermarkets around the country because of our contract with Morgan Enterprises. They are our biggest buyer."
John's face became unreadable as his cold veneer cut through whatever warmth was between them. He shook his head. "The House of Morgan owns everyone and everything. I'd hoped you were different."
Her eyes threatened to tear from the sting in his words, but Alice was no longer a shy girl from high school, and she wouldn't act that way. John started to walk away. She placed her hand on her hip and shouted after him. "John Morgan, don't you dare sit in judgment of me and my family. We work hard every day for what we produce and we're proud of it. What have you ever done?"
John stopped, turned. His gaze stayed on her for several beats. Then he stormed down the hall like he'd been stung by an entire swarm of wasps. She rubbed her arms. Unsure what to do, she retreated inside the vestry. She'd come to this affair to be seen, and it was time she knelt at the altar to get her picture taken, just like every other person here.
John Morgan could rot. Her crush on him died today, finally. She hadn't seen him since the day her best friend was buried, and there was clearly a good reason to stay far away. Self-absorbed jerks didn't deserve her time.
Chapter Three
The sweet smell of vanilla and strawberries dissipated as John pushed away from the group of people that surrounded him. He searched for Alice, who stood in the hall with many other people, all there for the farce of a wake. If he went back to her, the scent would return.
Everyone stared at him as they took seats in pews in the viewing room. After Vicki's death, he swore he'd never step foot inside this place again. His shoulders tightened. Baskets of flowers nearly obscured the casket. He gulped as his hands became fists. He marched toward his father's casket. The former President stood aside. The coast was clear.
In death, would his father's face be peaceful? More human? John's mind reeled on that one question. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. Mitch Morgan would never pay for any crime he'd committed now. Death had freed him from the consequences, not that John should be surprised.
Secret Crush (The House of Morgan Book 1) Page 2
