He knew about them? Gaining confidence, she said, "According to my research, he and his three brothers are your half-brothers.” Fiona Dupree was a longtime associate and probably Peter’s father’s secret girlfriend. Mitch the Elder had made sure his sons were taken care of and went to the best schools, as well as traveled the world—a few years in New York, followed by Paris, Tokyo, Venice, and now New Orleans. Like the late Mitch Morgan, and her father, Fiona had suffered a heart attack though she lingered for months afterward before finally succumbing.
"Mitch, Damien, Axel, and Galen." Peter covered his mouth with his right hand as he dropped the folder.
She lifted it and quickly straightened the papers inside. "You know them?"
Peter pressed his lips together. "I met them when I was a young boy. Their mother was one of my father's girlfriends.” He shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about Fiona or her children when Dad died. They could have come to the funeral. What a circus. That day my sister returned from her self-exile.” He shook his head. “Where are they?"
"Fiona just died, sir." He’d scanned the report, not reading all the details. She stood, awaiting orders. Would this affect his decision in acquiring the other bank?
Peter's face went white. "What?"
She flinched as she debated whether or not she should hand him the file again. She’d highlighted the information in yellow. Instead, Tess answered, "I imagine that all four brothers will be at their mother’s service at St. Louis Cathedral tomorrow."
She glimpsed compassion beneath Peter’s tough exterior.
“Where is your sister, Jess?”
Strange that he asked about Jess of all people right now. Tension snaked through her body. “I’m not sure. On a boat somewhere, near the Keys.”
"Meet me and my wife at our private airfield in an hour, Tess." Peter waved his hand toward the door as he picked up his cell phone. “We are going to New Orleans.”
Airport? The brothers all lived in New Orleans, where the services were being held. Her intention had been to fly there later this week, once she’d formulated a plan for the acquisition. "May I ask why, sir?"
"We’re going to the funeral. You are going to work on the acquisition while I show support for their loss. From what I remember, Fiona was a beautiful woman."
So she needed to pack an all-black outfit. She groaned inwardly. Black in Miami attracted heat like still water to a mosquito and she’d cleansed the color from her wardrobe after moving here. Kevin had liked her in black. She imagined humid New Orleans would be the same as Miami with the color. "Yes, sir."
She walked to the door, remembering her father’s funeral not long ago.
"And, Tess?"
A cringe raced through her. Would he want her to be cut-throat, or would he allow time for the Morgans to grieve? She turned around and hoped she sounded normal. "Yes?"
He held his phone to his ear and gave her a cursory nod. "Good work. I'm glad to have you on my team."
All at once, the tension in her shoulders eased. She’d show Kevin and everyone who’d snubbed her that she was a success. "One more question, sir."
He covered the speaker of his phone with his hand. "What?"
As this was his family and he was her boss, there might be special rules. Perhaps he’d be willing to forego hostilities in the name of family. She held her folder at her side. "What if your brother doesn't want to merge?"
His mouth tightened. "Then we'll begin a hostile takeover bid, as usual. I will not allow another Mitch Morgan to rule over me or anyone else ever again."
Morgan Enterprises was the number one bank in the world and she'd ensure it stayed that way, even if she stepped on toes. But then she remembered the candid shot of the four brothers Morgan, New Orleans branch, laughing together as they helped build a house for Habitat for Humanity. She lowered her voice, cursing her sense of fair play. "He might not be like your father."
"I hope he's not. See you on the plane."
She walked out of the office, her heels clicking on the marble tile. Once the elevator came, she hit the button for the bottom floor. Time to get home and pack.
Once at her apartment, Tess stared at her phone, wishing she could talk to her sister Jess, who was currently snorkeling in the Keys with her friends. She dug in her closet for her small rolling suitcase. Her mother was in Paris, so off-limits. Who else could she bounce her fears off of?
Once she had her bag next to her bed, Tess called her best friend, Caro, who was engaged to another Morgan. While her boss said a hostile takeover was on the table, Caro might have some insight into the dynamics of the family.
Tess couldn’t lose her job because her boss changed his mind about how to deal with his half-brother. Kevin, the toad, would pin any blame for the acquisition going wrong on her. As she folded her clothes into her bag, she waited for Caro to pick up. The second she did, Tess heard voices and clanging—and a saxophone?
She stopped packing. "Caro, where are you?"
"New Orleans. Luke flew me here to attend an Indigo 5 concert tomorrow and I wanted some time to see the city."
"Amazing...” She’d uncovered the little-known fact that Mitch Morgan’s brother was Axel, the keyboardist of the band who played under an assumed name. Caro’s fiancé was Doctor Luke Morgan, the boy she’d loved and thought she’d lost in college before he moved to Miami and found her again. Tess never had anyone like that, but if Caro and Luke met the band, Caro’s fiancé would meet his half-brother. “And perfect. I might need your help, and we need to talk in person before you bring your Luke to the concert. Do you have time in the morning?"
"Sure. Let's meet for coffee in the French Quarter. It will be nice to see you here."
“And there is something you should probably know if you’re going to meet Indigo 5.”
“Okay,” Caro said.
Tess sat on the edge of her bed. Her mother had filled her in on as much of the Morgan family as she could, but none of that included what was in her file for Peter regarding the other Morgan children.
"Caro, you're engaged to Luke Morgan."
“So what’s the favor?” Her best friend let out a chuckle. "You’re stating the obvious."
Tess needed information, but part of receiving was sharing what she knew. Caro always did the right thing, so having her close would be to her benefit. "Your fiancé might want to go to a funeral at St. Louis Cathedral tomorrow.”
"What? Who died?"
"Fiona Dupree."
"Who was she?"
Until this morning, Tess had no idea. Part of her strategy when it came to putting together her plan meant understanding the people involved, no judgment. If she was smart, this might mean the difference between a hostile takeover or an acquisition.
Her mom was in Paris, but Caro’s mom, the head of housekeeping for Peter Morgan, could be a fountain of information regarding the Morgans—even the unacknowledged branches. "I think she was Mitch Morgan’s secret girlfriend. Would your mom know anything about her?"
"I'll ask her and see.”
Perfect. Tess stood and zipped her suitcase halfway. It was time to get a car and head to the private airfield. Being late was not an option. She rolled her bag into the bathroom to get her toiletries.
"If you hear anything about her that might help me, please let me know." Tess glimpsed her image and winced, quickly redoing her ponytail.
"Why? What do you need?"
She threw everything inside and zipped the top closed. "Information to help me figure out if Mitch Morgan III has any weaknesses when it comes to either business or personal."
"There’s another Mitch?!" Caro screeched.
Tess held the phone away for a second. "Yeah. Who knows what Fiona was thinking." Her mother had never said anything nice about the elder Mitch Morgan, and her mom liked just about everybody.
"That man was a nightmare to all his children. Poor guy. I'll make sure Luke goes to the funeral tomorrow. Thanks, Tess."
“There is more, but I want to
tell you in person.” It was time that Tess proved herself capable. "If I survive this minefield called my job.”
"You'll do great. You wanted that position in Morgan Enterprises...badly."
"I know.” All jokes aside, her student loan debt had come due, with interest. “I was the most overqualified ice cream scooper in Miami."
"I understand,” Caro laughed. “I worked as a maid for a while. Look, I'll catch up with you in the morning.”
"See you, Caro."
Tess hung up and pulled her suitcase out the door. As she locked the door to her apartment behind her, she stood taller. Once she accomplished this acquisition, the stigma of failure would be gone. She’d never serve another cone again.
3
Mitch held onto the handrail as he stood from the kneeler. Praying wasn't his thing, but he’d tried to do it like his mother had taught him. It had been twenty-four hours but it felt like she watched him still. He needed to get a grip. She was gone now. He hoped she was at peace and with his sister, Catherine, again.
This vast emptiness inside threatened to consume him completely if he weren’t carful. Would he stop hurting? It might be worth it. He stared at the casket, draped in roses, arranged at the front of the church. None of this seemed real.
His dark-haired, blue-eyed mother had been so full of life, with hardly any wrinkles despite her age.
The doors opened. Mitch fixed his black tie and turned to greet the next mourner. As he squinted against the sun streaming through the doors, his shoulders relaxed with relief as he recognized the long locks of blond hair from his youngest brother. So different than his own business cut. He nodded his head.
"Axel."
His brother wrapped his arms around him in a fast hug. "Mitch."
"I'm sorry." Mitch regretted not dragging Axel home sooner. Everything had happened in a whirlwind, but Axel had to be hurt.
“Why is it a closed casket?” Axel asked as he stepped away.
“Mom’s wishes.”
"But she was always so beautiful and kept herself looking young. Can I have a few minutes alone with her?”
"Of course."
Giving Mitch a sad smile, Axel patted him on the back and walked down the aisle.
The door swung open again. Mitch turned to greet the newcomers. Then his entire body stiffened as his gaze focused on the brown-haired, brown-eyed man who looked nothing like their father. Everything he read in the newspapers indicated that Peter was their father reborn; Midas touch, a king of commerce. There was no way they'd ever get along. Mitch held out his hand, widening his stance.
"Peter Morgan," Mitch announced.
Peter’s gaze narrowed and they shook hands. "Growing up, I thought your name was Mikey."
"You know who I am?" Mitch's hands fisted. Peter Morgan and his family were the reason their father could never marry his mother. He uncurled his fists. Fiona Dupree knew the man was married when she had him and his brothers. All in the name of love.
"I remember meeting you when Father brought me along on one of his trips."
Yet none of them had been invited to their father’s funeral! It was an insult, a slight, to read about the event in the newspaper and online. The family lawyers had contacted them right away and Fiona had waited, in vain, for the family to reach out. And Mitch wasn't stupid. The entourage of people Peter brought with him likely meant Peter Morgan wanted his company, wiping out any trace that Mitch Morgan was their father, too.
His anger grew but this was not the time or place.
Peter turned and placed his hand on a pretty brunette's back. "Let me introduce my wife, Belle."
Wife? "I thought you were getting married on Valentine's Day?"
Everyone knew about the love lives of Mitch Morgan’s legitimate children. Victoria Morgan had been thought dead...until she walked into their father’s funeral. A month later, she was in the papers again for stopping a wedding and marrying the father of her unknown daughter.
The legitimate family was still treated like American royalty, just as when their father had been alive. While their father had insisted Mitch and his brothers all had the Morgan last name, he’d refused to bring them home to meet his family. His mother had deserved better than to be treated as a “side piece” when their love had lasted more than thirty years.
A few more people gathered behind Peter as he answered in a low voice, "That will be our public wedding."
"Got it."
Mitch’s gaze zeroed in on a thin young woman with brown eyes behind dark frames in a black pencil skirt and fitted suit jacket standing behind Peter. Beautiful was too simple a word to describe the vision. Mitch straightened, nodding at her. "Who is this?"
Peter waved toward her. "One of my employees. Tess Taylor. She was the one who discovered your identity."
Information was priceless. He'd not let gorgeous Tess out of his sight. If Peter brought her here, during a funeral service for his mother, then she must have valuable information on Morgan Enterprises. He needed to find out what she knew and ignore how every cell in his body instantly became aware of her.
He reached out and placed his hand on her elbow. "Digging up United Trust info?"
She lowered her head, but he saw how her cheeks turned red. An innocent shark? "I'm not..."
Carnal energy coursed through him. As if he’d been scalded, he let go of her elbow. Tess’s radiance shouldn’t get to him. A reaction like that made no sense, but if she had even an inkling of attraction toward him too, she'd tell him everything about his half-brother's business.
"This is a private affair,” Mitch said. “But you are welcome to say goodbye to my mother."
Tess scooted behind Belle Morgan, but the air retained her raspberry scent. Others joined them. Mitch wished his own brothers were closer.
"And who is this?" His dark-haired younger brother, Galen, asked.
“Luke, Caro, and Matthew. Luke and Matthew are also your half-brothers. Our father put them in boarding school, letting them grow up without a mother or father.”
No one ever said their father had been a good man, even though he had ensured Mitch, his brothers, and his mother had everything they might need, there was always the taint of not being quite enough.
The foyer behind them started getting crowded. More people opened the door, but his brother, Galen, took over greeting the guests. The pews were more than half-filled already and more people just stood and talked in the aisles. Mitch needed a second to breathe. He fixed his cufflink, then said, "Please, everybody, have a seat."
The group filed past him, but the woman with the raspberry scent caught his attention. He grabbed her arm before she was out of reach. "Tess, wait."
Her lips parted. "Why?"
Mitch prayed his mother in heaven would forgive him for his next actions because no way would he let Peter Morgan swoop in and steal his company. Tess was clearly part of his team. She'd know everything he needed to find out. His body stiffened as he leaned closer. "As you are the one who brought the Morgans to my mother's funeral..."
She nodded, holding his gaze. "They wanted to pay their respects."
"Respects? Yeah, right." He wasn't that much of a fool. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from touching her again.
She batted her eyelashes. "Mr. Morgan—"
"I'm Mitch Morgan." She probably hadn't meant to touch on his sore spot, but he couldn't help himself. "I am unlike your boss, whose father created all our family troubles. Men like Peter and my dad are hardly the type to trust. What exactly do you do for him?" The idea of them together twisted his insides.
"Umm..." She glanced behind him, then folded her hands in front of her. Unoffended, Tess said, “Mr. Morgan is simply my boss. I'm not involved with him on a personal level. I believe he dotes on his wife. He has her portrait on the wall and stares at her picture on his desk all the time. To me, he seems pretty faithful.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Everyone at Morgan Enterprises sings his praises as the best boss they’ve ever had.
"
He was lucky she hadn’t smacked him. “Sorry. It’s been a trying few days.” Still, she could tell him what he needed to know about Morgan Enterprises.
Her head tilted as her huge brown eyes studied him. "If you want to talk in private, I'm game."
His collar felt too tight. Fiona would not approve of business dealings right now, although Tess looked like someone his mother might have tried to introduce him to, if she’d been alive. "Why would I?"
Her eyes welled but she blinked. "My father passed away not that long ago. I remember that sometimes it’s easier to talk to strangers.”
"I do need air."
If he got out of the hot church for two minutes, perhaps he'd be able to focus on his mother’s service, or even business, not how Tess brought calm just by being near.
He led her outside and toward the small garden. A saxophonist played near a tree as they walked a short path. She nudged his shoulder. "Can we start over?” Her lips lifted slightly. “Hi. I'm Tess."
He glanced back at the cathedral, tempted to just keep going, arm in arm with Tess. To deny his mother’s death. He knew that was wrong, but the idea persisted. He could tell his mom that he loved her one more time, tell her goodbye. Tess’s arm pressed against his felt nice, so he tried to smile.
"Tess, I’m sorry I took out my frustrations on you."
"Don't worry about it." She wrapped her arm through his. For just that moment, he felt capable of anything. "And your name is?"
He would play along. "Mitch."
The walk in St. Louis Square helped clear his head. She shared a few stories about her dad, and her mom. About life going on after a loved one dying. It would be savvy business to keep Tess close and get the information he needed, but it was her smile that he needed most right now. She made him believe he was going to be fine.
"Okay then, Miss Sunshine. Where did you come from?"
She winked. "Miami. Guess I match the state motto then as I come from the ‘Sunshine State’.”
"You're from Miami?” His mother had been from there. It was where his parents met and fell in love, although his father had to marry a woman of his class, a young woman chosen for him by his family.
Secret Heir Page 2
