Wrong Groom, Right Bride

“Yeah, I know, but I wanted to go over the budget forecast again.”

Simon didn’t like the somber note in Mark’s voice.

“Look, Simon, I know you won’t be happy about this, but I’ve looked at everything, and I’m afraid there’s no way we can pay bonuses this year.”

Simon nodded unhappily. He’d arrived at the same conclusion. “Maybe if the contract with Petry comes through …”

“I don’t think it’s going to.”

Simon hated to admit it, but Mark was probably right. The contract that had once looked so promising now looked as if it might bite the dust. And that disappointment could be laid directly at Todd’s door. If he’d been here the way he was supposed to be to coddle the prospect along—after all, he was the one they knew— maybe the outcome would be different. “The department heads count on those bonuses,” he said, although Mark knew that as well as Simon did. “They’ll be really upset.”

“I know, but it’s either that or put off retooling indefinitely.”

Retooling of the plant was essential, Simon felt. His father had ignored the signs of change and refused to face facts. It wasn’t until after his death that Simon had been able to even talk to the board of directors about modernizing the plant. They weren’t happy about spending the kind of money necessary but had finally agreed the company wouldn’t be able to compete in the new global marketplace unless they did. “We can’t put off the retooling,” he finally said.

For the rest of the afternoon, he studied the company’s financial reports, his department heads’ budgets, the salary forecasts. He looked at the latest bills from the insurance underwriters—rates for both health and life insurance for the employees and their families and fire and hazard insurance for the buildings and equipment had increased again.

His reluctant conclusion was that although the company was in good shape, in order to meet their long-term goals, some sacrifices were unavoidable.

Simon put his head in his hands.

Sometimes he hated his job.

Chloe hadn’t been able to get Simon Hopewell’s visit out of her mind. For the next few days, she kept thinking about him. He and Todd were so different. Yes, they both had black hair and the square-jawed look of all the Hopewells, but the resemblance ended there. Todd’s eyes were a bright blue, and most of the time they betrayed exactly what he was thinking, whereas Simon’s eyes were an enigmatic, cool gray. Contemplative, serious eyes.

Todd smiled easily and often—was charming and friendly. Simon was just the opposite—almost stern in his quiet, businesslike demeanor. He rarely smiled and, according to Todd, had no sense of humor at all. Of course, Chloe thought wryly, Todd had made other pronouncements that had turned out not to be true.

Todd liked to spend money. All through their courtship, he was constantly buying gifts and taking her to expensive places. Simon, on the other hand—again, according to Todd—kept an iron fist on the purse strings.

Despite this, Simon had generously offered to take care of all the wedding expenses, and his eyes were kind when he made his offer. Certainly Chloe never felt as if he were condescending to her the way his mother had. It had almost seemed like a point of honor with him.

What would Simon Hopewell think if he knew about the baby she was carrying? Would he be upset? Would he think she had tried to trap Todd? Maybe so. She hated thinking that might be the case. She almost wished she could tell him.

But that was ridiculous. She could never tell him. Chloe wondered why, suddenly, she felt such a twinge of regret. She told herself it was only because Simon would make such a great uncle, someone her baby could definitely depend upon and look up to.

She did feel regret about the fact there would be a lack of male influence in her baby’s life. Her father’s death, her uncle Phil’s death in Iraq—there would be no Patterson men to count on. And now, because of Todd’s betrayal, there would be no Hopewell men, either.

Well, it couldn’t be helped. What was done was done and could not be undone. Nor did she want it to be. Now that Todd had revealed his true colors, she knew she was better off without him, for the one character trait Chloe valued above all others was honesty. A trait Todd obviously did not possess.

So … good riddance to bad rubbish, as Grandmother Patterson used to say. Chloe and her baby would be just fine on their own. Better than fine. They would be great. But even as she told herself all this, tears slid down her face, and all the doubts and fears she’d thought she’d successfully buried tried to resurface. Angrily, she brushed away the tears. I’m fine. I’m strong. I can do anything.

Her words were an affirmation, one she’d repeated often throughout her life. And just as they had before they made her feel better.

Composed now, she headed for the kitchen.

A nice bowl of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough wouldn’t hurt, either.

Simon put off going to see his mother until Wednesday. He knew it was cowardly, but he was tired of scenes and this one promised to be a doozy. But since there was a board meeting scheduled for Thursday afternoon, he knew he had to tell her the bad news before then. He called the house Wednesday morning and said he planned to drop by in the afternoon if she were going to be home.

“As it happens, my bridge club was changed to yesterday, so I’ll be here,” his mother said.

“I’ll see you around four, then.”

Simon marshaled his arguments on the drive out to the family home. When he pulled into the circular drive in front of the stately three-story colonial, he knew he was as ready as he ever would be to face the coming storm.

“I’ve asked Martha to bring tea into the solarium,” his mother said as she ushered him in. Martha was their longtime housekeeper.

The solarium was Simon’s favorite room in the house. On the east side of the house, morning sun poured in its windows. His mother had filled the room with lots of greenery and dozens of her prized orchids, as well as a fountain and waterfall at one end of the room. Percy, his mother’s pet parrot, occupied a fancy gilded cage in the shaded northwest corner, and Max, her chocolate Lab, could usually be found lying in front of the windows overlooking the river that meandered along the back of their property. Although the rest of the house was furnished with expensive antiques and imported rugs, the solarium was casually and cheerfully filled with bamboo chairs and sofas covered with bright chintz cushions. Dotted around the room were glass-topped side tables and a matching tea wagon. Today, because the day was mild, some of the windows were open, and Simon could hear the snip of the gardener’s shears somewhere nearby.

“I’m glad you called,” Larissa said, settling into her favorite chair by the waterfall. Max slowly got to his feet, stretched and moved over to her side, where he noisily flopped down once more. “I wanted to talk to you about the board meeting, anyway.”

“What about it?”

His mother started to speak, then fell silent as Martha entered the room carrying a large silver tray. She set it down on the tea wagon, then wheeled the wagon close to where his mother was seated. The tray was loaded with a silver teapot, creamer, sugar bowl, cups and saucers, small plates and a platter filled with bite-size sandwiches and a matching cake dish upon which sat what looked like a lemon sponge cake—Simon’s favorite.

He smiled at Martha. “How’d you know I was coming today?”

Her answering smile was warm. “Don’t you know I’m a mind reader?”

“Among other things,” he said, laughing. Like a saint for putting up with our family all these years.

Once Martha left the room and Simon and his mother had helped themselves to the refreshments, his mother said, “I wanted to discuss the amount of the family allocations before we talked about them at the meeting.”

“That’s why I came today. To talk about them.”

His mother raised her eyebrows. “Oh?” She lifted her teacup and sipped, her blue eyes meeting his over the rim of the cup.

Simon knew there was no percentage in stalling. He drank some of his own tea, then put the cup down and leaned forward. “I wish I had better news for you, Mom. I know what I have to say will not be pleasant to hear, but the bottom line is, there will be no increases to any of the family allocations this year.”

Setting her own cup down a trifle harder than the fine china warranted, his mother’s gaze turned icy. “You’re not serious. You couldn’t possibly be. Of course we must have an increase. Perhaps you don’t need one, but I simply can’t continue on without one, and I know Todd will feel the same way. After all, he’s just been married. It’s outrageous to think he can continue to live on the same amount of money. First of all, he and Meredith cannot live indefinitely in that condo of his.” She said the word condo as if it caused a bad taste in her mouth. “It’s tacky, all that black and red and chrome, just not the kind of place a young woman like Meredith would ever want to live in. I mean, surely you can see that, if anything, Todd will need to have his allocation doubled!”

There were a few things Simon could say to that, like the fact that in addition to his share of profits, Todd also drew a substantial salary from the company, but he’d learned long ago how futile it was to criticize his youngest brother. “I wish the company could afford to give everyone an increase—whether a family member or an employee—but Mark and I have gone over the numbers, and the company is simply not in a position to do so this year.”

“That’s ridiculous. I absolutely must have more to live on. If you think it’s easy to run this big house on what you give me … you’re mistaken. I make sacrifices to do so, and I’m tired of going without. I need at least fifty thousand more this year. I’d like seventy thousand, but I suppose I can manage on fifty.” She sat back in her chair with a satisfied smile. The queen bestowing a favor on one of her subjects. “No, Max,” she added irritably, as the dog nudged her leg. “Cake is bad for you.”

Simon suppressed a sigh. “Mother, the money is not what I give you. As one of the principal owners of Hopewell Enterprises the money is your share of each year’s profits. This year, there is very little profit. What with the new equipment, increases in some other expenses and the coming cost of retooling the plant, we’re stretched to the limit. In fact, your allocation should be cut by more than half. I realize that would cause you enormous hardship, so I plan to ask the board to okay keeping the amount the same as last year’s with the provision that we’ll take another look in six months.”

Larissa’s face paled. “And what does that mean?”

“It means if the changes we’ve made don’t help us improve our bottom line the way we think they will, we might have to decrease the amount you’re getting now.” Simon delivered this news as gently as he could.

“Decrease my share? Decrease it?” She jumped up. “How dare you!” She glared at him. “My own son! I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Why, your father would turn over in his grave if he knew how you were treating me. Weren’t you listening to me? I can’t run this house on what I’m getting now, let alone on less. What’s wrong with you, Simon? I’m beginning to think you’ve lost your mind. Either that or the power of running the company has gone to your head. The board will never go along with this. Never! In fact, I’m going to call Elias as soon as you leave here.”

Elias Whitney was president of the board and, along with Larissa, one of the largest shareholders in the company. He had, also along with Larissa, been against many of the changes Simon had recommended, although, in the end, he’d gone along with them.

Her threat didn’t scare Simon. Elias Whitney might be a longtime family friend, but he was also a shrewd businessman. Ultimately, he would continue to vote for the financial health of the company.

“Hopefully, this situation is only temporary. Just until we pay for all the upgrades.”

“Simon, are you hard of hearing? Have you not heard a word I said? I don’t have enough money to live on unless I get an increase. What do you propose I do? Do you want me to sell this house? Is that it?”

“I know you don’t want to sell the house.” Although why she needed an eight-bedroom home was beyond him. It wasn’t as if any of them still lived with her. Simon had bought his own home ten years ago, and both Todd and Noah had moved out years earlier. “But you could sell some of your stock to tide you over.”

“My stock!” She looked as shocked as if he’d suggested she sell her body. She gave him a hard look. “You have lost your mind. I will never sell my stock. That’s my insurance for the future.”

Simon knew that his father had carried a five-million dollar policy on his life and that most of that money should still be intact. Plus her company stock was worth upward of twenty million dollars, so her future was completely secure. But his mother was angry enough; he didn’t want to make things worse by pointing out the obvious.

For a few moments, he considered offering his mother the money she wanted—not as a loan but as a gift. Simon could afford it. He lived simply and saved more than he spent, and the value of his company stock was equal to hers. But he was reluctant for some reason. If she really did have money problems, he would have gladly helped her out. But she didn’t. She was just spoiled … and had a sense of entitlement. In her mind, since throughout her life as a Hopewell she’d always had whatever she wanted, she always should have whatever she wanted.

Maybe it was past time for her to learn what most people were forced to learn: that there was a difference between want and need.

An hour later, they were still going round and round with the same arguments. Finally, Simon rose. “Look, we’re not getting anywhere like this. I’m sorry you’re so upset, but I can’t change things just because you want them changed. And I think tomorrow’s board meeting will bear me out.” Max had gotten up when Simon did, and Simon rubbed his head.

“You haven’t heard the last of this, Simon. I’m not giving up. I intend to call Elias and then I’ll call all the other board members, as well.”

“That’s your right, Mother.”

“And then we’ll just see who’s boss.”

“Yes, I guess we will.”

She didn’t kiss him goodbye when he left. In fact, she barely said goodbye. He knew she was furious, and he had a feeling she’d be even more furious tomorrow, because he would bet his entire stock portfolio on the fact that the board members would vote with him and Mark. They couldn’t afford not to. Hopewell’s entire future depended on them making sensible financial decisions, and investing now for the future of the company was the most sensible financial decision they could possibly make.

But Simon wasn’t rejoicing in his anticipated victory.

How could he?

His mother might be spoiled. She might have a misguided sense of entitlement. And she might sometimes be unreasonable and petty. But he remembered how she’d always read him a bedtime story, even when she and his father were going out for the evening, how when he was miserable with chicken pox she’d played card games with him for days on end, how she’d beamed with pride when he’d given the valedictory address upon his graduation from college.

No matter what, she was his mother, and he loved her.

As he drove home, he remembered that he’d meant to tell her about his visit to Chloe and how she’d turned down his offer to pay the wedding expenses. But under the circumstances, maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t mentioned Todd’s ex-fiancée. His mother was upset enough.

No sense adding fuel to the fire.

Chapter Four

The board meeting went exactly as Simon had expected. All the directors, Elias Whitney in particular, were sympathetic to Larissa’s point of view, but in good conscience, they couldn’t vote the increase she wanted. Elias apologized to her, but Simon’s mother—after glaring at him—stormed out of the meeting in a fury.

“I’m sorry,” Elias said to Simon afterward. “I know this is going to make things uncomfortable for you.”

Simon shrugged. Things were already uncomfortable. And none of it was Elias’s fault. If only Larissa’s anger was the only reaction Simon had to face. Unfortunately, hers was just the beginning of the storm. By Friday afternoon—after spending hours breaking the bad news of no bonuses to his management staff—Simon wished there was a hole somewhere he could crawl into. At the very least, he wanted a glass of wine and a good dinner. And maybe a weekend of golf. How long had it been since he’d actually taken a weekend for himself?

As he left the office, he thought about how nice it would be if the good dinner was even now being prepared by a beautiful wife, someone who would understand and sympathize with him and tell him he’d only done what he had to do. Someone who would later join him in his king-size bed. And why was it that this thought immediately segued into one of Chloe Patterson?

What was wrong with him? In the past few days, he’d hardly stopped thinking about Todd’s former fiancée. Sure, she was attractive, but Simon knew dozens of attractive women, and he didn’t think about them all the time. What was it about Chloe that refused to leave him alone?

Simon was too honest with himself to blame his preoccupation with her on the fact Todd had jilted her. The truth was, she intrigued him on a personal level. Hell, if he were being completely honest, he’d admit that he was attracted to her … sexually attracted. Maybe he had been from the first time he met her. He still remembered the way he’d felt when he saw her with Todd at the company’s Christmas party last year. Jealous. Almost resentful. It had ticked him off to see Todd with the fresh-faced Chloe with the spectacular legs—she’d worn a short, dark red dress that swirled when she walked—when he, Simon, was alone that night.

Remembering how he’d felt then, he could feel his body responding now. Damn. He’d been without a woman for too long. In fact, he and Alexis had broken up a few weeks before that Christmas party. It was the reason he was alone that night.

He told himself he was being ridiculous obsessing over his brother’s former fiancée. What he needed to do was say yes to one of the dozens of invitations that came his way from more appropriate potential romantic partners. Because Chloe was off-limits. And even if she hadn’t been, she was planning to leave Riverton. Any involvement with her would be a go-nowhere situation—a real exercise in frustration.

But even as he told himself all this, he wondered what she’d say if he were to call her and ask her to have dinner with him. The desire to do so was so strong that he almost reached for his cell. But common sense quickly intervened. Hell, I’ll just be asking for problems. She’ll say no, anyway, so why open that can of worms?

Despite his rationally thought out decision, ten minutes later he found himself driving past Rosa’s Trattoria, one of the most popular restaurants in Riverton. He remembered from the investigator’s report that Chloe and her cousin and aunt had a habit of meeting there for dinner on Friday nights.

Would they be there tonight?

Glancing through the parking lot, he spied Chloe’s distinctive lime-green Volkswagen. Knowing this was stupid, that he should go somewhere else, he pulled into the lot and parked.

“Mr. Hopewell!” Gino Carbone, husband to Rosa and co-owner of the restaurant, exclaimed as Simon walked in. “Welcome back. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Gino. And you?”

“Excellent, excellent. It’s been a while since you’ve been here.”

“Too long,” Simon agreed.

“Are you expecting someone or—”

“It’s just me tonight.” Simon tried to keep from looking into the dining room, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Chloe sitting with two women at a nearby table.

Gino picked up a menu and beckoned Simon to follow him. Simon knew they would have to pass by Chloe’s table. A moment later, Chloe looked up. When their eyes met, hers reflected her surprise, but she quickly smiled and gave him a friendly hello.

He stopped, smiling back. “Hello, Chloe. How nice to see you again.” She looked beautiful in a green blouse that exactly matched her eyes.

When he continued to stand there, she only hesitated a few seconds before introducing him to her companions. “Aunt Jane, Molly, I’d like you to meet Simon Hopewell. Simon is Todd’s oldest brother.”

Simon grimaced. “But please don’t hold that against me.”

Jane Patterson, an attractive dark-haired woman, chuckled. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hopewell.” Her brown eyes were filled with curiosity and intelligence. Simon knew she was taking his measure as she studied him. The cousin, a pretty young woman with curly dark hair who was about Chloe’s age, studied him carefully, too.

Protective, he thought. Both of them. And probably suspicious, too. Well, he could hardly blame them. Up till now, Chloe hadn’t fared well at the hands of the Hopewells.

Chloe’s aunt offered her hand, and Simon shook it, then turned to Molly and shook hers, as well. He knew they wouldn’t invite him to join them, but at least he would get to observe them awhile, for they hadn’t been served yet.

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