The Heiress's Secret Romance

Often, their mother’s love could be suffocating, so when she finally allowed them to spend time at the plant with a few people she trusted who weren’t bodyguards, Morgan relished those moments. The plant became his second home and he was fiercely protective of it too.

“We need to talk about the menu that nutritionist lady sent over the other day.”

“What’s wrong with the menu, Ms. Monica?” Morgan pulled out a chair for her.

Ms. Monica took the seat. “Nothing’s wrong with it. Your mother was right. Healthier, balanced diets are something we should all strive for. None of us are getting any younger, you know. In fact, nearly half the folks working have been here since the doors opened. It’s just going to be too much money buying so many organic vegetables from that company they recommended. I know where we can get everything we need for much less money. I know y’all rich and all, but it never hurts nobody to save a little money.”

Morgan laughed. “You are so right, Ms. Monica, and I appreciate how you look after us—”

“But...” She crossed her arms.

“We have some pretty solid agreements with a number of vendors. Agreements that my mother negotiated personally.”

Ms. Monica laughed. “Well, in that case, I’m sure Victoria got you a rock-bottom price.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m sure she did.”

“Well, I better get back to my kitchen. It’ll be time to serve lunch before I know it. Speaking of lunch, my friend’s beautiful daughter—”

“Ms. Monica, we’ve talked about this already.” Morgan helped her out of her chair. Here we go again. I really wish everyone would stop trying to fix me up. Can’t a brother just get back to work and enjoy the fact that no one is coming after us for one thing or another? “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need help getting dates.”

“I’m not trying to help you get hooked up with some hussy,” Ms. Monica said and playfully swatted at his hand. Morgan pressed his lips together, preventing his laugh from escaping. “I’m trying to help you find a nice girl you can marry.”

“Ms. Monica—”

“And not like that gold digger Bonnie Ford,” she continued talking, shaking her head as if he hadn’t said a word. “I still can’t believe she tried to use your relationship to advance her family’s business interest. Ridiculous! Compared to your family’s other refineries, that small oil refinery of theirs would look like one of those ugly hateful stepsisters standing next to the beautiful princess. Not to mention all the times he’s filed for bankruptcy.”

“It was a long time ago,” he replied, still feeling a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Morgan had no idea that his three-year, loving relationship with Bonnie—at least he’d thought it was loving—had meant so little to her. He certainly didn’t know her and her parents’ only agenda for them was to forge a business empire between their families.

“That’s my point. It’s time for you to stop playing with all these silly little girls and find a woman with some substance. It’s time you found yourself a wife.”

Morgan checked his watch. “Look at the time. I should get over to the shop.”

“Fine, go, but we are not done with this discussion, young man,” she insisted, walking toward the kitchen.

Yes, we are. The last thing I need is a wife.

Ms. Monica was like family and Morgan knew she meant well, but he was happy with his life just the way it was. Sexually satisfying liaisons with temporary companions and keeping his heart protected from another bad break suited him just fine. Morgan threw his trash away and set his dishes in the collection pans. He walked toward the exit when his cell phone rang. “Hey, what’s up, A?” Morgan answered, stopping shy of the exit.

“China’s in labor,” Alexander, Morgan’s elder brother and CEO of Kingsley Oil and Gas, replied.

“Oh. Snap. Is China all right?”

“She’s...emotional but strong,” Alexander replied.

“That she is,” Morgan agreed.

“And beautiful...so damn beautiful,” Alexander murmured.

Morgan heard something in his brother’s voice, something unfamiliar. Fear maybe. “Are you okay, A?”

“Yeah, but I could use some backup,” he admitted.

“I’m on the way.”

“You sure, Morgan?”

“I’m sure. Where am I coming?”

“Woman’s Hospital. Thanks, man.”

Morgan could hear the relief in his brother’s voice. “I’ll take the chopper and see you in about an hour.”

Morgan put his phone away, pivoted and walked toward another exit, one that would get him to his car the fastest. He still couldn’t believe another Kingsley would be arriving soon. Now Morgan had two brothers with children, something he never thought he’d see—so soon, anyway—and briefly wondered if that was a journey he’d ever take.

* * *

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Kathleen grumbled that night, trying to sit still in the makeup artist’s chair. She was anxious to find out if the Kingsley investigation would move forward and kept thinking about all the things that needed to be done before she could get started.

“Like you could go to the Irene Winston Cancer Foundation gala with Dad and me looking like—”

“Like what, Hannah, myself?”

“No, not you. Not the real you, anyway. Maybe a more sedated you,” her younger sister conceded.

“I work in the real world where all this excess is not necessary and frowned upon. Just because I don’t walk around looking like a glam goddess like you, little sister, Miss TV Chef, doesn’t mean I don’t look good.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t. What I am saying is that you need to showcase all of our mother’s wonderful gifts. The high cheekbones, seductive eyes and—” she ran her hands through her own hair “—all this thick beautiful black hair.”

“Hannah, you sound like a beauty commercial,” Kathleen said, laughing. “Why aren’t Wesley and Kennedy going to this thing tonight?”

“You know our big brother and sister are workaholics just like you. They’re out of town on business. Plus they’re always at these things. Our foundation’s charity events usually have us traveling all over the country. Since this one was local, right in your backyard, we figured you could step up for once,” Hannah explained.

“For once?”

“Yes, Kathleen. You rarely make an appearance to any of our social events, be they personal or charitable.”

Kathleen bit her lip. “I like my privacy. Besides, my job—”

“Has nothing to do with your family. Stop hiding behind it.”

“I’m not,” she murmured, knowing her sister was right. Kathleen had enjoyed attending their charitable functions just as much as her sister until their mother got sick. Her mother’s illness and trying to find ways to deal with her anger became her focus.

“Whatever. Which dress do you want to wear? They’re both Versace.” Hannah held up a black, low-backed lace gown in one hand and a red, strapless, flowing gown with a high split in the other. “If I were you—”

“I’ll take the black one, please.”

“Red, it is,” Hannah replied. “You need to show off your banging body and gorgeous face if you want to catch a worthy man.”

“I’m not looking for a worthy man, Hannah.”

“You should be. You’re twenty-nine and haven’t had a man since college.”

“I’ve been focusing on my career. Making a difference in people’s lives is important to me. I don’t need any unnecessary distractions.”

“You can still fight your crusade and have a man too. You’d be amazed what great sex can do for a working woman’s disposition.”

Kathleen rolled her eyes. “My temperament is just fine, thank you very much. Anyway, I don’t think there are many men out there like Dad. It would take someone pretty substantial to get me to deviate from my course.”

“You won’t know until you try and find one,” she said challengingly.

“I don’t see you running to the altar with Peter.”

“And you won’t. We’ve outlived our usefulness for each other,” Hannah explained, picking up a comb, running it through her hair and admiring her own beautiful makeup job.

“What? When did that happen?”

“That’s a story for another time. You look fabulous.” Hannah turned and hugged her makeup artist. “Lisa, you are amazing.”

“Thank you, but you both offer a beautiful canvas for my work. I’ll see you on the set in the morning. Have a good night, ladies,” Lisa said before walking out the door.

“The set?” Kathleen frowned. “I didn’t know you were working.”

“They booked a couple of promos for me while I’m in town. Houston’s one of my biggest markets,” she declared proudly.

Kathleen’s phone beeped. She reached for it and read the message. A huge smile crawled across her face. Kathleen had just received the go-ahead to go after the Kingsleys. She felt giddy. Like she’d just found out that her favorite book was being turned into a movie. Her boss might believe the Kingsleys were innocent but her gut wouldn’t let her join that bandwagon just yet and Kathleen always followed her gut.

“Good news?” Hannah asked.

Curiosity was written all over her sister’s face. “The best. I just got my new assignment.”

“Oh. Here.” Hannah handed Kathleen the red dress, brushing off her news. “Put this one on with the sexy red-and-gold Versace heels I pulled out.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Versace, of course, only my dress is a deeper red.” Hannah gave her sister a Cheshire cat smile.

“If I didn’t know that your IQ was as high as mine or that you were a beast when it came to cooking, I’d swear you were a spoiled, rich woman enamored by the trappings of your lifestyle,” Kathleen stated.

Hannah shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with me enjoying the fruits of Dad’s and my own labor. Anyway, most of my wardrobe comes to me free.”

“Yes, I keep forgetting. People actually want to see you in their clothes.”

Kathleen walked into her sister’s oversize dressing room, dropped her robe and stepped into the gown her sister had selected. It fit her perfectly, accentuating all of her physical assets. Kathleen stared in the full-length mirror and smiled. Her light eyes sparkled, the makeup highlighted her golden-bronze skin beautifully, her black hair full of curls. Kathleen was thankful her hair was pulled up and out of her face.

She hadn’t seen the woman staring back at her in quite some time. Not only did she look like a younger, slightly darker version of her mother, which made her both happy and sad, she rarely wore makeup or such fancy clothes anymore. Kathleen only cared about stopping companies from hurting their employees and making the bad guy pay, and she didn’t care how she looked doing it. Her heartbeat increased, and she had to fight back her tears. She knew her sister would kill her if she messed up her makeup.

“Ready or not, I’m coming in,” Hannah called out before walking into the room. “Oh wow, sis. You look divine...and just like Mom.”

Kathleen swallowed hard. The fact that her job didn’t require her to dress up was only one reason she didn’t like to do it. The other was because it reminded her of just how much she missed her mother. Hannah was right. Irene Winston had blessed her daughters with her beauty.

“So do you,” Kathleen replied, smiling at Hannah through the mirror. She turned to face her sister. “I’d say we could pass for twins, except your dress leaves little to the imagination with such a low cut in the front.”

Hannah turned around. “And the back,” she added, smiling.

Both women laughed. “You are a mess, Hannah.”

“I know. Here you go.” Hannah handed her sister a black velvet box.

“What’s this?” Kathleen’s eyebrows snapped together.

“Just a few accessories,” she explained.

Kathleen opened the box and her breath caught in her throat. “Oh no, I’m not wearing these.” She quickly closed the box and tried to hand it back to her sister. It was like the box held a deadly secret or something. It was one more thing bringing up emotions she was trying to keep buried. The loss of her mother might have fueled her career, but personally it was something she’d never completely dealt with.

“Will you stop being silly? We don’t have time to go by your house and get yours so you’ll just have to borrow my set tonight.”

“That would be a waste of trip since my set isn’t at my house,” she murmured.

Kathleen heaved a sigh and slowly opened the box as if she’d expected the million-dollar diamond-and-ruby choker and matching stud earrings had disappeared. They had each gotten a set when they’d turned twenty-one. Their father had showered them with jewelry their whole lives. He told them it brought him joy especially since their mother was no longer around to buy things for and spoil.

That was another example as to why Kathleen didn’t waste her time dating. There were too many ideals a man would have to live up to, and spoiling her had nothing to do with it. It was the unconditional love that made them want to do such nice and extravagant things for one another. Kathleen just knew that type of love would be hard to find.

“Don’t tell me something happened to yours.” Fear crossed Hannah’s face. “Dad’s going to be heartbroken.”

Kathleen frowned at Hannah as she reached for the earrings. “Don’t be silly. Most of my jewelry is in my safety deposit box. I only keep a few pieces in my home safe.” She removed the necklace from the box and placed it around her neck.

“Why not keep all your stuff in your home safe?”

“Because it’s not like I wear so much jewelry every day.”

“Good point.” Hannah adjusted her diamond necklace. “How’s work going anyway? I know you can’t tell me who you’re going after but whoever it is had better watch out.”

Kathleen smiled. She had gone up against some powerful people in her career and while ambition had never been a motivating factor for Kathleen, she knew bringing down the Kingsleys would be a big feather in her career cap. “Let’s just say it’s a really big fish that I can’t wait to catch and fry.”

“You go, girl. Ready? I just got a text. Dad’s here, and you know how he feels about being late.” Kathleen heard her phone beep. She knew she’d just received the same message. “You ready to spend your Friday night with Dad?”

“I might as well be.” Kathleen gave herself one final look in the mirror and smiled. She knew how much her mother had loved to dress up and that she’d be really happy right now. “Let’s go celebrate Mom and raise a lot of money for cancer research.” Tomorrow I’ll start the process of bringing down another company that won’t make the safety of their employees a priority.

Chapter 3

After an eventful weekend, Morgan walked into the plant’s operations director’s office, drinking from his travel mug, to find his mother standing in the middle of the room looking out the window. She was wearing a blue pantsuit that showed off how physically fit she was, emphasizing the fact that age was nothing but a number. Her bag sat on the desk next to her personalized hard hat.

“Mother, what are you doing here?” Morgan asked, checking his watch. His mother wasn’t exactly a morning person these days, so he was trying not to let her unexpected visit concern him, but the last couple of times she’d surprised him it had been to share bad news.

Morgan was actually looking forward to getting back to work and focusing on expanding into new territories—all the things he’d been working on before Perez entered into their lives. Still reeling from the excitement of the weekend, the birth of another Kingsley and seeing how happy his brothers were, Morgan was actually considering taking Ms. Monica up on her offer to introduce him to her friend’s daughter. Although he knew that particular thought would soon pass.

Victoria turned and faced Morgan. “Good morning, son. I realize we’ve had an exciting weekend and that you might be a little out of sorts on this bright Monday morning, but I’m sure you haven’t forgotten the appropriate way to greet your mother.”

Morgan sighed and placed his cup on the desk next to his mother’s hat. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “My apologies. Good morning, and to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Is everything good with Baby A?” His heart skipped several beats at the thought that something could be wrong with his new nephew. Morgan never imagined that something so small could knock him off balance and make him feel so much.

Victoria’s face lit up with pride. “Alexander the third is wonderful,” she reassured, smiling, taking a seat in front of the desk. “I’m here because with all the excitement around little Alexander’s birth this weekend I failed to mention that you’ll be receiving a visitor today.”

“A visitor?” He reached for his coffee.

“Yes. I got a call Friday afternoon from another one of my well-placed sources in our state government offering me a few olive branches so to speak for all the trouble we’ve...our company had to endure this last year.”

“Oh, really, what type of olive branch?” Morgan questioned, narrowing his eyes while the hairs on the back of his neck rose. At this point Morgan didn’t trust anyone from any government agency.

“The only one you need to worry about is the one from OSHA. They’re sending one of their trainers to update our material and orientate our employees on some new regulatory updates.”

“They’re what?” Morgan frowned. Why in the hell would I need or want to use any of their trainers?

“You heard me, son.”

Morgan went around the desk and dropped down in the chair. He knew better than to argue with his mother about the decisions she made for the company, especially those that might have political ramifications. He had to pick his words carefully.

“Do you really want someone from any government agency in our business after everything we’ve been through? I certainly don’t. I can send a couple of our trainers for a train-the-trainer session and they can come back and train everyone else here. You realize they send their trainers to our training center for a number of different programs we conduct?” he reminded his mother, trying to keep his annoyance under control.

“I do, son, and while that sounds like a great idea, unfortunately I’ve already agreed and given my word.”

Morgan gave his head a quick shake. “When will they get here?”

Victoria gave a nonchalant shrug. “I have no idea. All I know is that they arrive today.”

Morgan grabbed his cup and took a sip. “I’ll listen to what they have to offer, but if it’s not up to our standards, the ones you set, I’ll send them packing.”

Victoria rose from her seat and smiled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Now, let’s go.” She reached for her hard hat.

Morgan stood. “Where are we going?”

“To talk to some of the line staff. It’s been a while since I’ve been out here. I’d like to see a few people. Just deliver me to Adrian, and you can wait for our guest in his office.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Morgan offered her his arm, and they walked out of the office.

* * *

Kathleen arrived at the Kingsley plant close to ten, much later than she would have liked thanks to an unexpected traffic jam on the freeway. She was impressed by the level of security just to gain entrance to the property and the plant itself, although part of her wondered if that was a sign that the Kingsleys were trying to hide something. Kathleen exited her vehicle, pulled out her roller bag and purse and made her way to the guard’s stand.

“Good morning, ma’am. May I help you?” one of the three guards greeted.

“Yes.” Kathleen pulled out her ID and flashed it to the guard. “I’m Kathleen Winston from OSHA, and I’m here to conduct some training sessions.”

“One moment.” The officer reached for his phone at the same time Kathleen’s rang. She checked the screen and saw that it was her father calling. Instead of answering she sent him to voice mail.

The guard handed Kathleen a visitor’s badge. “You’ll need to keep this on you at all times. Please follow me. May I help you with your bag?”

“No, thanks. I have it.”

Kathleen followed her escort over to a small truck. He handed her a hard hat. “You need to put this on.” He gave her the once over, and the corners of his mouth turned down as he nodded.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s just most of our female visitors don’t think to wear sensible shoes like the ones you’re wearing.”

Kathleen looked down, past the conservative black suit and white blouse she wore to the black leather loafers on her feet, and laughed. “This isn’t my first time working in a plant.” She got in the truck and watched the guard load her things while she put on the hat. Kathleen was glad she’d remembered to put her hair in a low, tight bun when she got dressed.

“My name is Van, ma’am,” the guard stated as he got in the truck behind the wheel.

“Pleased to meet you,” she replied, smiling.

Van gave Kathleen a map of the plant in the form of a brochure before giving her the layout as he drove around the outskirts. He highlighted the major points of interest. Van explained that she’d have to have an escort to each location.

“Will you be that escort?”

“No, ma’am. That will either be the plant manager, Adrian Jones, or someone he assigns.”

Kathleen had done her research and she knew all the names of the key staff and the positions they held at the plant; however, several of their photos hadn’t been available. She especially found it surprising how little she was able to find out about the Kingsleys. Yes, there was a great deal of detail about their recent troubles, their financial fortune and of course their family’s matriarchs, but minimal information beyond tabloid gossip was available about the personal lives of the heirs.

They drove toward a large one-story white building with the Kingsley name on it. “Is that where I’m going?”

“At some point I’m sure. That’s the administrative building where you’ll find the training center. However, I was told to bring you to the plant manager’s office.”

They rode in silence through the middle of the plant on what was a main street, and Kathleen was surprised to see a five-story glass office building surrounded by several other equally impressive buildings of varying sizes positioned in the center of the plant. Wow. You can’t judge a book by its cover but this place is pretty great. “This plant is like a small town.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet. The Kingsleys take good care of their people.” They pulled into an assigned parking space and exited the truck.

I’ll keep that in mind.

Kathleen collected her things and followed Van into the building where another security guard met them. Before the guard could offer a greeting, a tall Hispanic man wearing jeans and a white button-down shirt with Kingsley Oil and Gas monogrammed above his left shirt pocket said, “Good morning, Ms. Winston. I’m Paz Villarreal, operations manager.” He offered her his hand.

“Pleased to meet you,” she replied, accepting his callus-riddled hand, and smiled.

“Thanks, I got it,” he told the officer from his building as he patted him on the back. “Thanks, Van, I got it from here. You can get back to your post.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Van,” Kathleen said.

“No problem, ma’am.”

“May I help you with your bag?” Paz offered.

“No, thank you. I’m fine. We passed your training center coming in. Will I not be working there?”

“Eventually.” They walked over to the elevator and took the short ride up to the fifth floor. He led her past a small waiting area and down a long hall with offices on each side. They came to the end of the hall and stood in front of a door with a sign that read Operations Administration. Paz opened the door and stood aside as Kathleen entered. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected. The waiting area had two low-back leather sofas sitting against the left and right walls with framed blueprints of the plant hanging above them. An expensive Persian rug covered the slate floors, and a long fish tank filled the back wall.