My individual meetings with the heads of projects and units within the company usually finish up around noon. And that’s when I try to steal Kat for a lunch somewhere. My days are always brighter when I can spend more time with her. Today, as I open the door to the office she’s been using, I find Deirdra sitting in front of Kat’s desk gesturing animatedly. The two of them are thick as thieves, as my grandmother would have said, and I can’t help but think that it would have made her happy to see so much time and attention going into her charities. I realize now that the idea of letting them run themselves was shortsighted and unfair.
“Oh, that’s my signal to go,” Deirdra says mid-gesture. “I can finish the story another time.”
Kat smiles and walks her to the door, whispering something about a presentation. When she turns to face me, her face is aglow, and I wonder how she’s managed to fit into all of this—a life I’m not even entirely comfortable in, though I was raised for it—so seamlessly.
“What are you whispering about?” I ask as she steps toward me and I put my hands on her hips, pulling her closer. She’s begun to develop a style that’s a merger of Chicago Kat and Duchess Katherine. Today, she’s wearing her beloved Chucks with a pair of wide legged black slacks and a cropped silky sweater in purple, her favorite color. It’s not cropped enough to show any skin, but I appreciate the loose fit that allows me to slide my hands underneath the hem and touch the bare skin at her waist.
“We’re nearly ready to make our presentation about the new upgrades to the Foundation.” She smiles. “If I’d known stuff like this could be so much fun, I might have gone to college. All this time, I thought I loved DJing because of the music, but I’m starting to see that I might really like being in business, too.”
“Maybe you can tell me how to fix the rest of the company while we get lunch,” I suggest, steering her out the door.
“I probably can,” she says with a grin. “I’m kind of a badass. Plus, I have a fancy title that makes me sound a lot more important than I am.”
I laugh as we board the elevator, but inside a voice is whispering that Kat is important—important to the company, important to the Duchy, and most of all, important to me.
“Ok, you agreed to invest a certain amount and the bills are more than that?” Kat asks over a bowl of Pad Thai as I tell her about my discoveries during the brief moments I’ve been able to research the paperwork David was pilfering.
“Yes. We committed to an investment of one point two million pounds, to be paid out for certain parts of the project. But the invoices for those things—materials and construction—are consistently ten to twelve percent higher than they should be.”
“Meaning the total investment will be higher,” she concludes.
“Yes, and per the contract, they’re only obligated to repay us the original amount. It’s our job to make sure the invoices we pay don’t exceed the agreed-upon amount.”
She takes a bite of her noodles, gaze narrowed as she thinks.
“If I’m understanding this, someone could be charging your company more, then pocketing the extra and you won’t earn that back?”
“Exactly.”
“You have a crooked business partner.”
I sigh and lean back in the red vinyl booth at the dark little Thai place a block from our offices.
“I’m afraid,” I tell her as I dig a chopstick into the coconut rice, “that I have a crooked employee—or possibly more.”
Her eyes grow wide.
“This could only happen if someone is allowing it on our side. It’s not an accounting oversight, you can’t mistakenly pay out an extra hundred thousand or so pounds.” I try to ignore the burn of rage in my chest. It’s been smoldering like an angry ember ever since I realized the full extent of what’s happened.
Then she asks one of the two questions that matters most in all this.
“Do you know who it is?”
I don’t. I don’t know who it is. Not yet. But I sure as hell have an idea, and it turns my stomach. Because no matter that we were never close, or that he thinks he should have my inheritance I fought for all these years, David is family, and at least when it came to honor and the family business, I thought that meant something. I’m starting to fear I was wrong.
“I have it narrowed down to a couple of possibilities,” I tell her, not willing to blacken my cousin’s name until I’m certain.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “But at least you found out so they won’t get away with more.”
And here’s where she needed to ask the second most important question—has it happened before? Because where there’s smoke, there’s usually fire, and with things like this, they’ve usually been going on for a long time before someone notices. If I hadn’t found David in my grandfather’s files, would I have known? Or would I have accepted any reports and spreadsheets I was shown, assuming they were accurate? Truly, if David hadn’t challenged my inheritance, I most likely would have relied on him to provide me with the snapshot of the company. He’s family, he’s been working in the London offices for years. I imagine I would have considered him a valuable source of information.
No, the simple truth is, if David hadn’t come after me, I would have been in a rush to get back to Chicago and I would have accepted anything he told me about the family business. And he would have been free to continue embezzling from the company.
I wonder if he realizes that his greed is what’s going to unravel this whole thing?
“Let’s hope we caught them early,” I tell Kat, not actually convinced of it myself. Unfortunately, I have a sinking feeling this may have been going on a very long time.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks, and I feel my heart tighten in my chest. She’s truly begun to change my world. For the first time, maybe ever, I feel as though I have someone on my side. Someone I can trust. I wanted to believe I had that with Jessa all those years ago, but deep down I always knew the title and the money I was going to inherit played a big part in our relationship. I knew she mostly wanted to be the Duchess of Surrey, and I thought I was okay with that. Now I fear I’ll never be okay with that again.
“You’re a gem to ask,” I tell her, reaching across the table and grasping her hand. “But this will be all about the lawyers and accountants as soon as I have enough documentation for them to wade through.”
She nods, then smiles cheekily. “Well, maybe I can provide some assistance at home. You know, after your long days hunting down corporate thieves at the office. You may need some special therapy back at the mansion. As Dukes do,” she adds.
I growl softly and give her a heated gaze. “This Duke definitely needs that sort of therapy.” I quickly check my watch. “He might even need some right now.”
“Your Grace!” she cries in mock horror, brown eyes wide, cheeks flushed. “We’re in a public place.”
“Have I showed you the sofa in my office?” I say, reaching into my pocket and tossing cash on the table.
I grab her hand and tug her to her feet. She has that look she gets. The one that reminds me she’s still the wild girl from Chicago who loves to watch the hockey team fight.
“Sofa?” she asks with a sly smile.
“And a door that locks,” I add before leading her out of the restaurant.
* * *
A few hours later, I’m sitting at my desk, trying not to remember what Kat looked like sprawled on my sofa with her bum bare on the leather when I hear my assistant’s voice protesting.
The door to the office swings open and there stand my mother and Jessa, Mark in hot pursuit.
“Sir, I told them I needed to see if you were available—” he begins, a scowl on his face.
I look at him grimly. It’s not his fault, no one can stop these two.
“It’s fine, Mark.” I wave them in, and he quietly shuts the door behind them.
I walk around the desk, but I don’t offer either of them a chair so they both stand at attention, perfect po
sture, perfect makeup, perfect hair. I realize in that moment that I’ve grown to prefer Kat’s wild curls and funky style to the smooth order of Jessa.
“What can I do for you?” I ask none too gently.
“It’s been three weeks, Winston,” my mother says as she breaks etiquette and settles into a nearby armchair. “It’s time to dispense with this nonsense.”
I snort laugh. “Exactly what nonsense is that?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes as if it should be self-evident. “The American girl, Winston. I’ve heard you’re even allowing her to spend time here at the Duchess’s offices. I can’t imagine what you’re thinking, but the court will decide whether to entertain David’s challenge very soon. You need to get rid of her and insure you have an appropriate bride.”
“Mother, my wife is spending time here at the office because she’s the Duchess of Surrey and has duties with the Duchess’s Foundation. Not that I need to justify that to you.” I look at Jessa then, to make sure she knows I’m including her in that statement.
She looks down at my mother and says, “May I have a moment alone with Winston?”
My mother sighs before rising to her feet. “Of course. Perhaps you can talk some sense into him. I’m not sure what it’s going to take. If he’s not careful, he’ll wake up and find David has taken everything but the title. And really, what use is the title without the money?” She glides out and shuts the door behind her.
I move behind the desk before Jessa can try to get her claws into me—literally. “You’re wasting your time, Jessa,” I tell her as I lean my fingertips on the desktop. “I’m married. You and I are over. And the Ducal assets are neither your concern nor my mother’s.”
She gives me a patronizing look. “Win. Everything about you is my concern. It always has been.”
I raise an eyebrow in derision. “That’s odd. I could have sworn the moment you heard the words ‘Chicago’ and ‘hockey team’ you abdicated any concern for me.”
She has the sense to look chagrined. “I’ve told you how sorry I am for that. It was all happening so fast. I have a life here in London, and you were talking about needing to spend part of the year in Chicago, for God’s sake. I mean, if it were New York, but Chicago?”
I think about Kat, and how very Chicago she is—colorful, tough, a self-starter. When I bought the Norsemen I didn’t know a damn thing about Chicago, nor did I care. But since I’ve lived there, I’ve grown to appreciate the place and the people. Kat sort of embodies all the best things about Chicago.
“I still own the Norsemen, Jessa. Why would you think things would be different now?”
She leans forward over the desk, letting her long lashes flutter slowly down, then back up as she inspects me. “You’re the Duke now. You have responsibilities here. We can finally be together as we intended. With your title and the Ducal companies to manage, you won’t have time to keep running off to Chicago—surely you realize that?”
I shake my head and smile grimly. “Jessa, nothing’s changed—not about me, and not about you. I care about the family businesses, but I’ve spent my entire adult life looking for an opportunity to prove that I can build something on my own. Grandfather blocked me at every turn. I finally have the chance to follow my dreams, and those are very much about the Norsemen.”
I stand and walk to the door of my office as her gaze follows me. I see the moment when she truly realizes she’s lost.
“Chicago is part of who I am, and that’s not going to change.” Until I said it, even I didn’t realize how true that was.
Jessa looks defeated for the first time since I arrived at Heathrow. While I have a pang of guilt when I see her typical tenacity desert her for a moment, I’m also grateful that we can finally put any notions of a reconciliation behind us.
She walks toward the door, and I’m careful to stay out of her reach. The last thing I need is a repeat of what Kat saw the day she ran off to the local pub.
In the doorway, Jessa turns to look at me one last time, but instead of resignation, what I see is fury. Pure, unadulterated rage. Her eyes spark with it, and her voice is more like a hiss. I’ve never seen this side of Jessa, and while it shocks me, it also makes me realize that if I’d married her, I would have married someone I didn’t know. Her normal façade of aristocratic elegance is so complete, I’m not sure anyone knows the real Jessa.
“You owe me,” she snarls. “I spent half my life waiting for you to man up and do what everyone expected. I put up with your fits and starts and your constant battles with your grandfather. He swore to me that you would come to your senses. He even promised that the provision in his will would force you into it if we weren’t already married.”
My heart jumps in my chest at the shock of this new information. Jessa discussed my grandfather’s will with him? He intended that provision to force me into not just marrying, but marrying her?
“If I don’t get the dream, Winston—” her lip curls in disgust, “then neither should you.”
And with that, she blows out the door like a vengeful, wrathful hurricane.
39
Kat
Wallis is in a tizzy. He’s been tearing around my room from the door to the windows for ten minutes. This last circuit he leaped in the air, dug his claws into the velvet curtains and is now hanging there like a maniac.
“Stop it!” I cry as I work to loosen his grip from what are probably some sort of designer, historic things from Italy. Some days I feel like everything here is priceless. Wallis doesn’t care at all. He’s an equal opportunity destroyer.
I tug on the second to last tiny claw when my laptop starts dinging, telling me a Skype call is coming in.
“Seriously, Wallis.” I lose patience and pull too hard, tugging out a thread as I finally detach him. A big loose loop now mars the fancy curtains. Dammit.
“Hold on to your damn panties,” I mutter as I make my way to the desk and click accept on the call.
“Hey, baby doll!” Darnell’s big grinning face fills the screen.
I hold Wallis in mid-air and scowl. “The disrupter of kingdoms is disrupting the entire house.”
Darnell makes kissy faces at the kitten. “Aw, what’s my little puddin’ gone and done now?”
I sit in the chair and Wallis begins to climb my torso, his tiny claws puncturing my Lycra tank top as well as my skin. “Ow!” I holler right before he finally reaches my shoulder, where he wraps himself around my neck and nests in my hair, a purr bigger than him erupting from his chest.
“Uncle Darnell, he’s a terror. I think he needs to come visit you for a couple of weeks so you can apply some discipline.”
“Baby, if you think I’m going to take your demon children when you can’t make them behave, you are sorely mistaken.” He raises an eyebrow and I pout. “Uncle Darnell’s summer camp is for the good kids. You need to learn how to impose some discipline or you’ll raise a monster. Can’t that husband of yours do something?”
I snort at the mere idea. Winston thinks Wallis’s antics are entertaining. He doesn’t seem to care that the cat is driving both Deena and Samuel into early graves.
“I’m not sure he’s much for discipline.” I sigh. “When Wallis tries to climb him, he laughs and locks him out of the room. Then Wallis terrorizes the rest of the house. The old spaniels are scared to death of him.”
Darnell laughs. “Well, I guess it’s good it’s just a temporary marriage. He’d be a terrible father.”
Something in his off-handed remark stings. I’m not sure if it’s the way he’s so certain my marriage is temporary or that Win would make a poor father. Admittedly, he never had one of his own to model, but he’s a good man, and he’s lightened up so much since we met. He cares about his employees, and he’s the most responsible person I’ve ever known. Aren’t those qualities you want a father to have?
“I’m not sure his treatment of the alley cat says much about his parenting,” I reply, trying to sound light, but failing even to my own ears
.
Apparently, Darnell’s radar is off, because he doesn’t seem to notice. “Please. Haven’t you ever read the advice columns? If you want to know how someone’s going to be as a co-parent, get a pet. It’s like a test. Never reproduce with someone who can’t housebreak the puppy.” He waves a hand dismissively. “But it doesn’t matter anyway. His parenting will be some other woman’s problem years from now. You get all the good part without the mess.”
My lips tighten and I feel the anger welling up.
“I like the way you just assume Win wouldn’t want to be married to me for the long haul.” I sound snappy and pouty.
Darnell blinks for a moment then leans closer to the screen as if he’s inspecting me.
“Oh, baby doll.” He sighs and his expression turns sympathetic.
“What?” I scowl.
“I was afraid of this.”
“Of what?” I feign ignorance even though I know exactly what he’s talking about.
He crosses his arms and gives me the stare. The only person who can stare me down faster than Darnell is my mother. They’re both masters at forcing confessions from their victims. I don’t know how they do it. I need some sort of glasses that filter their evil laser glares.
“Kaaat…” He draws out my name as he shakes his head in shame for my behavior.
“Daaarnell,” I mimic with a glare.
“Hon, can we skip the angry bitchy part, just this once?”
I reach out to slam the laptop shut on his obnoxious face, but then…I don’t. I sit there, staring at the screen, my hand on the lid of the computer, this strange thing called self-control flowing over me.
“Oh my God.” I gasp before slapping a hand over my mouth in horror.
To his credit, Darnell waits as I process what’s just happened.
“They’ve ruined me,” I wail as tears well up in my eyes. “I’ve become all Duchessy!”
Darnell chuckles and pretends to wipe my tears through the screen.
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