Enchanted Heart (7 page)

Lance Heart Smith couldn't get married. He already had a wife.

6

L
ance hadn't given any thought to his wife in a long time, a very long time. He'd been crazy in love with Gayla Stewart, his high school sweetheart. Neither his mother nor his grandmother liked Gayla. They both said she'd bring him down, that she came from bad blood and wasn't good enough for him. Just what the hell that was supposed to mean, he didn't know. Now though, all these years later, the blinders were off and he could see with an adult's eyes the things he couldn't at seventeen. Not that he would or could admit to his mother or to Virginia that they'd been right.

Three weeks after secretly marrying in Mexico, Gayla walked out on him.

At seventeen, he'd been too hurt to do any of the follow-up that would have dissolved their union. Over time, he'd put the whole unfortunate affair out of his mind.

Until now.

“Did you hear me, Lance?”

He blinked, focusing in on Virginia as if he'd been in a trance. “Huh?”

“Huh? What is ‘huh'? Lance, after all the money spent to give you a quality education, the least you can do is act as if I didn't throw good money down the drain.”

He shook his head, trying to get the image of Gayla from his mind. She was a small, almost delicate woman. In her smile he always sensed a secret knowing, as if she knew why the Mona Lisa was smiling and was thinking about sharing the secret. But what Lance remembered most were her hands. Gayla's hands, soft as an infant's skin, stroked him when they loved, caressed him when they talked and soothed him when he was worried.

“Lance!”

“I'm sorry, Grandmother. My mind was elsewhere.”

“Obviously,” Virginia said on a dry note. She picked up a small bell and rang for Penelope. “It would be too much to hope that maybe you were cataloging which of your paramours might make a suitable wife.”

Hardly.

He hadn't realized he mumbled the word until her gaze narrowed.

Penelope served the meal al fresco on the lanai. Virginia employed a part-time personal chef to ensure her meals were heart healthy—she planned to live a long, long time—as well as tasteful. Lance, however, couldn't enjoy the chicken almondine with endive. Between delicate bites, Virginia suggested several well-to-do young women, and Lance was reminded of the procession of senators' daughters, debutantes and society women Virginia had paraded in front of Cole before—and even after—he'd hooked up with Sonja. There was no way he was going to stand for that treatment.

Penelope had just cleared the table and was about to serve a lemon torte when the sweetly burned scent of aged tobacco drifted onto the lanai. Knowing who would follow, Lance groaned. Via his cigars Uncle Jimmy always announced his presence long before he actually made a physical appearance.

“Well, looks like I'm just in time for dessert. Howzit going, Penny? Bring me a plate, will ya, hon?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Heart,” she said before disappearing.

Virginia frowned. “Didn't I tell you about those cigars in my house.”

“Good afternoon to you, too, dear,” Jimmy said and he strolled onto the lanai. A peck on Virginia's cheek served as greeting. Jimmy then settled his girth in a seat and beamed at Lance.

“Lance, my boy, good to see you again.”

The too-hearty greeting from his great-uncle put Lance even more on edge than he'd already been.

He'd been set up.

This was no innocent little lunch with Grandma.

He wouldn't put it past his uncle and grandmother to have a bride already picked out and waiting, someone from a family with a large chain of retail stores in her twenty-first-century dowry. He thought about the scene with the arranged royal bride in that old Eddie Murphy film and wanted to run screaming out the door. With all the weird stuff on television these days—women duking it out to marry bachelor strangers—it probably wouldn't be too difficult for them to find a woman willing for the right money to marry a supposedly eligible bachelor.

Without being conceited, Lance knew he'd qualify as a catch. But Lance was neither eligible nor a bachelor. Not as long as Gayla remained his legal partner.

He eyed his grandmother and uncle. Something was definitely up with these two. It was too much of a coincidence for Uncle Jimmy to just show up the exact afternoon and time when Virginia was putting the screws to him.

As expected, it didn't take them long to get down to business. Virginia's piercing glance connected with Lance's. Coleman and Virginia were estranged, but Cole definitely came by that steely gaze in an honest fashion. While Cole's didn't faze Lance, being given that look from his grandmother unnerved him.

It almost seemed as if she could see clear through him, to the tarnished soul that thrived on pleasure and little else.

“What is it?” he finally blurted out.

“I'm concerned about you, Lance.”

“There's no reason to be,” he assured her. “Everything's fine with me.”

“Is that so?” Virginia said. “Are you in a committed relationship? Is there someone you'd like us to meet? Have you found a job?”

“Ginny,” Uncle Jimmy said just under his breath.

Lance glanced at his great-uncle, but then turned his gaze back to the woman who held court.

“Grandmother, a gentleman never tells.”

His tilted head and teasing grin, both designed to charm, didn't move her. Not one bit.

He grimaced, realizing too late he'd sauntered into a well-laid trap. The whole business about getting married was a setup to whatever bomb they were about to drop on him.

He didn't know from where the missile would come, but knew for certain he was the target of its heat-seeking laser.

Carefully he measured his words. “I don't need to work right now. Thanks to a certain trust fund.”

“Actually, that's what I really wanted to speak with you about.”

He hoped he didn't look as panicked as he suddenly felt.

But Lance felt a trickle of something wet on his back.

“That trust carries a fiduciary responsibility,” Virginia said.

Lance looked between his grandmother and his uncle. Jimmy tapped the arms of his chair. He didn't say anything, but he nodded sagely.

“I worked in the stores,” Lance said in his own defense. “On the floor and later at headquarters. I did my time with Heart Federated.” And that's what each moment felt like, he thought. A sentence of hard time working on Cole's corporate chain gang.

Virginia waved away his words. “Those few years could hardly give you the breadth of experience of running a company every day. Besides, that's not what I meant. You got some of the money Coleman left you.”

Lance knew she referred to his grandfather who'd left in his will a considerable portion for Lance, almost as much as Cole got.

“But as you know,” Virginia continued, “the bulk of it doesn't convey until you're thirty.”

Lance distinctly felt a shackle clamp around his ankle. He shifted in his seat, afraid he knew exactly where this was going. Thirty was two years away. Virginia could wreak a lot of havoc in his life in two years.

“There are certain provisions and standards . . .”

“Oh, for the love of God, Ginny,” Jimmy snapped. “Just tell him.”

“I'm doing this in my own way.”

Jimmy snorted, clamped the cigar between two fingers and pointed it at Lance. “Your grandmother thinks you're a lazy bum, so she's cutting off the tap.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The second shackle fastened shut.

Lance closed his eyes for a moment, trying to right his world. He'd planned to use that money to launch his own business. Granted, he'd never actually gotten around to planning any of it, but at least he'd had the idea to fall back on. And that idea was one these two knew nothing about.

He tried to tamp down the anger—and the growing fear.

In the back of his mind he'd always known something like this could happen. That's why he'd handed over a healthy chunk of change to Cole for the long-term.

Would Virginia cut him off without a dime of the millions coming to him? Could she?

A year ago Lance wouldn't have thought his tough but sweet grandmother had it in her to play that card. But he'd seen firsthand what she'd done to Cole—her own son. Not only had she voted her large block of stock against Cole, she'd made a show of taunting Cole with the defection. It's a sad day when a son can't even count on his mother to have his back. But that day had taught Lance a lot, and he harbored no doubt that given the provocation and enough Bloody Marys, Virginia would and could be just as ruthless with him.

“You can't do this.”

She laughed. Lance knew then that she'd already made up her mind about him. Arguing—begging in particular—would do no good.

“Frankly, Lance, I've seen nothing productive from you since you graduated from college.”

Suddenly, marriage took on a certain appeal. “If this is about getting married . . .”

Virginia held up a hand. “That's a small part of it, Lance. A very small part. Not at all the total picture.”

“What is the total picture?” he asked, his words carefully measured.

“Well, for starters, if I ordered you to get married, you could wind up with someone unsuitable.” Virginia cleared her throat. “I wouldn't presume to order you to marry someone, whether I approved of her or not.”

“One thing to be thankful for,” he muttered.

“Nevertheless, it is my duty to ensure that the Heart name and interests are protected.”

“Protected?”

If she'd wanted to protect the Heart name and interests she should have backed Cole's proposal to keep the Heart stores in the family.

Lance cast a questioning glace toward Jimmy. The old man grinned and chomped down on his cigar. Uncle Jimmy and Cole's father, Coleman II, had practically run Heart Federated into the ground. Cole did his best to salvage what remained, right before the entire outfit was sold away from them all, thanks in part to Virginia's efforts.

Through different eyes Lance began to see that Cole's estimation of Virginia was right on target.

“There are still Heart interests to be protected.”

“Your standing at the country club?”

“Watch your tone, young man.”

Lance stood, beginning to pace the area behind his chair. “With all due respect, Grandmother, I'm apparently missing the point you're trying to make.”

“My
point
is that it's time you took on some adult responsibility and did something productive with your life.”

“I take issue with that.”

She shrugged. “The facts say otherwise. What have you done in the time since you graduated from college?” she asked. “After five years and six majors I might add. To keep from going to work, you hopped into graduate school.”

“Come on now,” Jimmy intoned. “Be fair, Ginny. The boy did a mighty fine job there. He got good marks in that MBA program. You gotta give him that.”

She barely spared a glance at Jimmy. “And in that time, there was a scandal with that heiress on Martha's Vineyard. You should have married her. But no, what followed? The resignation of an esteemed professor who reportedly fell in love with you and caught you with another woman.”

Lance grimaced. Virginia would never get past those ancient indiscretions of his.

“When you had the opportunity to marry well, you insulted that lovely Gerard girl and nearly lost Heart Federated the account with our largest supplier.”

Ginger got over it, Lance thought. She hadn't wasted any time finding a man richer than Lance, someone who didn't have to wait until he turned thirty to claim the bulk of his inherited fortune.

“And what have you done with the money that came to you at twenty-one?” Virginia asked as if reading his thoughts. “And the money you got when you turned twenty-five?”

“That's none of your . . .”

Virginia continued as if he hadn't butted in. “I distinctly remember an ‘investment' in a stock car that was totaled in its first race. And it cost me—what was that Jimmy, $125,000?—to make good on a certain promise you made to a senate candidate's wife. Then there was the time . . .”

“All right, Grandmother. I get the picture,” Lance said, his voice a low growl.

“Do you?”

Uncle Jimmy chomped on his cigar, the small grin still at his mouth. “You brought this on yourself, boy.”

“Don't call me boy.”

Virginia shrugged. “Seems to me, that's actually a good description. You've been nothing but a wastrel, Lance. Just like your grandfather. My God, you two are cut from the same cloth.” Virginia blanched, then blinked several times.

Uncle Jimmy gave Virginia a sharp look then peered at Lance.

Lance didn't have time to focus on the man. Virginia was toppling his world.

“The only good thing I can see in your entire illustrious career as a ne'er-do-well playboy is that you've managed to avoid fathering a string of crumb-snatchers by young women with gold teeth, bad manners and poor grammar.”

He ignored the part about the gold teeth. It wasn't true. But the other cut dug deep—as it was intended. Lance's own mother was the product of an affair, one of many, by Virginia's husband, Coleman II. The fact that his own heritage was clouded was rarely mentioned, but it was something that Lance always resented, a fact Virginia well knew.

“I'm responsible when it comes to zipping up my pants.”