Jonathan (Members From Money Season 2 #146)

Chapter 1

Sunlight glittered across the lawn and dappled the palm leaves swaying in the midsummer breeze. The scent of blooming flowers enhanced the serene setting.

Vibrant umbrellas in green, red, and black shaded white lawn tables, protecting diners from the sun. Tasteful nude sculptures were nestled among begonias, hibiscus, and orchids.

Water trickled from the fountain in the terrazzo driveway's center. Valets in pressed black suits and white gloves directed traffic and parked vehicles efficiently. The place buzzed with activity - conversations muted, laughter soft - as guests preserved the peaceful atmosphere.

The hostess – owner and chef, glided from one table to the other, exchanging pleasantries, sharp mahogany eyes studying the settings and discreetly adjusting floral arrangements.

She did not miss anything. Angela Wilton ran Wilton’s Jewel with competence wrapped in steel. Her employees feared her, and she preferred it that way. The stunningly beautiful African American had taken over the restaurant from her father when he had to retire due to health issues and had stepped seamlessly into the role.

The place was always packed and patrons waited months to get a reservation. The food was terrific, the ambiance one of romance and if business was what one was after, there were little privacy booths tucked in here and there.

Angela did not miss a trick. It was also a favorite wedding venue and if one was fortunate to be able to get a booking, the service was exceptional.

Stopping at a table, Angela passed a cool glance over the woman reclining in the comfortable chair and sipping frosted lemonade, with a sprig of mint and a slice of lemon floating in the pale liquid. A phone was attached to her left ear and her expression was intense.

“Pierre, the day I give your restaurant a good review is the day I officially dance naked in Times Square,” she listened for a second before adding. “Fine. I will see you this evening. Ten minutes.” She hung up and acknowledged her mother’s presence, The last thing Kamilah wanted to do was to be here, but Angela had insisted.

“I am here, what’s the big emergency?”

Her mother’s mouth tightened in disapproval as she slid in across from her.

“Is it too much to ask that you don’t bring work here?”

Kamilah’s tapered brows lifted. “You called while I was doing a review, so yes, I had to bring my work here. What is it this time, Mother? The last review I wrote was too trite and underwhelming? Did I forget to mention the lovely backyard patio and grill that you introduced? What?”

Mother and daughter stared at each other, the tension enveloping them like a well-worn cloak. It had been this way since Kamilah had decided that she would rather be a critic than join the family business.

It did not matter that she had made a success of her career and was highly respected in her field. That was not enough. She did not fit into the mold her mother had created for her, and it was a constant source of argument between them.

“Don’t be crass!” Angela brushed at an invisible lint on the snowy white tablecloth. “Brian called me this morning.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“He wants a second chance.”

Kamilah would have laughed if she were not so upset.

“A second chance at what? You both know that it was not a relationship.”

“He is perfect.”

“Why?” She demanded. “Because he is a lawyer.”

“And a very successful one.” Angela tamped down an impatient sigh as she stared at the younger woman. Kamilah had inherited her stunning beauty, with something extra.

She was tall and slender, willowy, as some would describe her. Her caramel skin was flawless and her now shortened hairstyle emphasized the shape of her face and pointed chin. Mahogany eyes stared out from long curling lashes which could cut people in two with just one look. Her lips were wide and provocative.

Her lobes were dotted with several colorful stones. Three in the left and four in the right. She was brutally frank and impossible to pin down. She also played by her own rules.

“Here’s a thought,” she murmured, suddenly tired of the conversation, “why don’t you start dating him?”

Dark eyes flashed as Angela’s mouth thinned. “He’s half my age.”

Her daughter’s husky laugh lacked humor. “When has that ever stopped you?”

“I am your mother, and I deserve some respect.”

“When you have earned it.” She looked around, noticing that some of the patrons were throwing curious looks at them. “We are attracting quite the attention and as owner of this fine establishment, I am certain that’s the last thing you need.”

Finishing the drink, she rose and picked up her light apple green jacket and tote the size of a briefcase. Tucking in her multiple devices, she secured the straps over her left shoulder.

“We’re not finished.”

Kamilah smiled slightly. “I have little doubt of that. Take care, mother.” She left before her mother could respond and walked away, tamping down the temptation to run to her vehicle. Sending the besotted valet a smile as he handed her the keys, she tipped him generously and made her way out of the parking lot, a sigh of relief gushing out.

The traffic on main street was as usual heavy, but she did not mind – it allowed her to think and reflect on what she had to do. Pressing the button, she decided against turning on the air and just enjoying the cooling breeze on her skin.

It was decided. She had spoken to her grandfather at length, and he agreed that she should take a much-needed break. Her maternal grandfather was behind her one hundred percent and for that she was grateful.

“Your mother is not the easiest person to get along with sweetheart.” His voice was wry and indulgent. “She’s my daughter and I love her, but she can be difficult.”

That would be the understatement of the year, Kamilah decided grimly as she turned left. Yes, she needed this break, or she was going to go quietly out of her mind.

*****

He sat on the horse, profile straight and still. Even the powerful animal beneath him was silent and unmoving, not even a flicker of the black glossy tail, or a toss of the proud head. Man, and animal as one with the pale half-moon at the back of them.

Jonathan McCarthy, fifth generation rancher, heir to the vast McCarthy fortune sat there, on the slight rise that gave him the privilege of surveying the spread of land, the rolling hills, trees swaying in the early morning breeze.

A well-worn hat was clamped down on his ash blonde hair. Laser blue eyes scanned the horizon. It was the best part of the day as far as he was concerned.

His men were not yet stirring, and he was alone with his thoughts. The distinct sound of water from the lake a few feet away where the land dipped slightly, sounded like music- low and soft, mingling with the scamper of squirrels chasing each other up and down the trees.

Somewhere in the distance, a fox howled, causing his horse Ebony to shift slightly, powerful muscles tensing. Laying a hand on the animal’s flank was all it took to reassure it. He kept his hand there, rubbing the silk, until the horse quieted down.

Reaching into the saddle bag, he took out the thermos of coffee and poured some into the lid and took a fortified sip and then another. The breeze was stiff, brushing his face, poking through his battered jacket. It was just coming to the end of August, but around these parts, summers were short, winters long and sometimes brutal.

Finishing the coffee, he put away the thermos and nudged his horse towards the thick chain link fence where animals had dug through just a day ago. Pulling on the reins, he dismounted easily and not bothering to secure the reins, hunkered down to inspect the repairs.

His men were meticulous, but that did not stop him from checking though. He was in charge of the ranch, an enormous responsibility that had been thrown at him when his dad had ended up in a wheelchair five years ago and wasted away – drifting into death two years after.

Now it was up to him to carry on the legacy. His mother was still alive. Leonie McCarthy was in her sixties but still ran the ranch house as efficiently as she had done when she first came to live here. Jon relied on her to take care of the day-to-day running of the staff and taking care of the endless details that went with a place like this.

Tugging on the fence with a gloved hand, he satisfied himself that it was firm enough before leaving it alone. Rising, he scanned the area, sharp eyes searching for any signs of unwelcome visitors.

They would be coming around, he mused grimly. The freezing weather would force them to seek some sort of shelter and forage for food. Dusting his gloves off, he turned towards his horse.

Gathering the reins, he vaulted into the saddle with admirable ease. Tugging slightly on the reins, he nudged the horse forward towards the ranch house, where by now, things were stirring to life.

*****

“You are a welcome distraction.” Lionel James ushered his granddaughter inside the cool and tasteful living area where he had been scanning the financial pages and taking a break from his gardening.

“I was out there in the heat and started getting lightheaded. Sara made some fresh ginger snap cookies before she left to go to the market.” He added, referring to his live-in housekeeper. “I am surprised to see you; thought you would have been gone by now.”

Kamilah hugged him briefly and planted a kiss on the weathered cheek. Slipping a hand through his arm, she walked with him into the room.

“Looks like you were expecting company.” She murmured, staring at the spread.

“Sara always makes a fuss.’ He squeezed her hand slightly before letting go. Settling into his easy chair, he picked up the jug of lemonade and poured it into two glasses. “When you called and said you were dropping by, I delayed lunch.” He handed her the frosted glass. “Now darling, tell me what’s on that brilliant mind of yours.”

Settling back, she felt relaxed as always. She had lost her both her dad and paternal granddad several years ago and the man seated across from her had always been a shoulder to lean on and her greatest supporter.

“You know I am in the process of writing a book.”

He smiled at that. “And I can already see it on the New York bestseller’s list.”

Her smile flitted out and she felt her stomach steadying. For all of her bravado, the confidence in her work and her ability to make a ‘ruling’ on a meal in some fancy restaurant, this was fresh territory that she had been toying with for two years now.

The last year had pushed her to start putting it into place and she had acquired an agent and showed her the idea and a few sample pages. The woman’s enthusiasm had fueled her desire to get it finished.

“You’re biased.” She pointed out now, sipping her tart and sweet lemonade and eyeing him over the rim of the glass.

“Damn straight.” He acknowledged with a grin. He was often fascinated and taken aback by the stunning beauty of the two women in his life. He was a moderately attractive man in his early eighties, but he knew they had inherited their looks from his dearly departed wife who had been taken from him almost twenty years ago.

His granddaughter surpassed her mother in looks, and he was hankering for her to find someone to settle down with. He also knew that the man who was brave enough and strong enough to take her on would have to be able to stand firm when she locked horns with him which would be often.

Both his daughter and granddaughter were extraordinarily strong women and were not easy to live with. His daughter had been through one marriage and an endless strings of lovers that seemed to grow younger each year.

“When are you leaving?” Shaking away the depressing thoughts, he focused on her.

“Tomorrow.”

His eyebrows lifted at that. “So soon?”

“I wanted to leave sooner, but I had some obligations.” With hands flitting restlessly, she put down her glass and rose gracefully. He watched her wander over to the window to look out and sat there staring at the slender frame etched in profile. The sun streaming through the open curtains highlighted her complexion. “Mother is on a tear about Brian.”

“That spineless loser?” He tutted behind her and caused her to smile. “You deserve better.”

“He’s a very successful lawyer and that’s quite an accomplishment and necessary requirement as far as she’s concerned.” She turned and walked over to sit back down. “And you’re right, I deserve better.”

“Knowing my daughter, she’s not going to stop. Is that the reason you’re not saying where you’re heading?”

She nodded and reached out a hand to place over his. “I know how she can get around you gramps,” her impish smile revealed twin dimples that seemed to be carved into her cheeks.

“You would want to keep my secret, but she would not stop until she gets it out of you.” Her smile faded as she eased back and settled against the cushions. “I am burnt out. Words of my therapist.

And she’s right. I have been running around from one place to the next for years now and cannot seem to settle. I love my job of course, love savoring the food, taking in the ambiance of the different place, and making my observations, but I need a much-deserved break.”

“You do.” He acknowledged quietly as he continued to stare at her. “And who knows? Wherever you end up, you might just find the man of your dreams.”

Her laugh came, husky and full-bodied like an excellent vintage and had him smiling at her.

“I am not into anything as frivolous as that.”

“Perhaps that’s what’s missing from your life.” His expression turned sober. “What’s life without love and romance? You need a man who’s going to love you to distraction and make you want to do the same. I am wishing that for you.”

She waved that away impatiently. “Anyway, I leave first thing in the morning.”

“How long will you be gone for?”

“Three weeks. A month? We’ll see.” Shrugging, she reached for the pastry and took a measured bite.

“Now darling, kindly remember that you’re merely having lunch at your old grandfather’s place and not here on a job.”

“Delicious as usual,” she declared with a laugh. “And if it passes muster with you, then I know it can’t be anything less.”

*****

Leonie McCarthy bustled around the huge dining room checking on the settings. It was early yet, just an hour shy of six, but the ranch was already stirring. She knew her son had been up since before dawn.

A fond and exasperated smile touched her lips as she reflected on the man she had brought into the world. Jon was anything but a child now. She had cradled him as a baby in her arms and over the years, as she watched him tumble around and find his footing, but she had often wished and hoped for another to keep him company.

But God had different plans and now she was without her husband and had a son who was married to the ranch. These days, she was saying a different prayer.

One that involved him finding a good woman and starting a family. His last birthday was early August, and he had resisted her attempts of making a big deal out of him turning thirty-five.

She had seen him disappointed in love. Her lips tightened as she recalled the woman who had breezed into town with her sophisticated ways and careless manner and had tried to persuade her son to give up his ranching.

Leonie adjusted a place setting and turned her sharp blue eyes, the exact shade of which she had passed to her son – and took in the fresh flowers that she insisted on being placed on the rich dark mahogany surface of the countertops.

She ran the ranch with loving care and with a firm hand. She loved that her hands were full each day with activities. Today there will be a tour of the vast grounds.

Their lush organic orchards, featuring oranges, plump, rich and sweet, peaches, juicy and delicious, lemons and apples that were out of this world and the delicious pies that had their trademark. Those pies were not only sold in markets in their small town but had been shipped far and wide and was netting them an enormous amount of profit.

It had been her idea, and her husband had been hesitant at first, but had given her the go ahead. To their surprise, it had taken off like a shot. She loved to bake and excelled at it. Now she had people in her huge, cavernous kitchen working for her.

She had an assistant to help through the paperwork and to assist with the many activities they had going on.

Her son did not care about the functions. His only concern was the running of the ranch. The responsibilities and they were enormous ones! Had been placed squarely on his broad shoulders with no complaints. He worked too hard. Up before dawn and only coming home in the dead of night and just to be at it again the next day.

He took his responsibilities seriously, making certain that everything was as it should be. She could not fault him for it. But she could only pray as a loving mother that he would find something more. Like a family of his own.

Standing in the middle of the room, she turned in a tight circle to take in the elegant setting. The ranch was too big for two people and for a minute, she allowed the despondency and longing for the patter of small feet to wrap around her like a sodden blanket.

The footsteps outside the door had her shaking the melancholia away and when the doors were pushed open to admit the object of her thoughts, that smile widened into pleasure.

“I had no idea you were expected.”

“You wanted us to have breakfast so we could discuss the gala this weekend.” Shoving back his hat, he took her hands and bent to kiss her proffered cheek.

“And to tell you that I have ten minutes, max.”

“Then let’s not waste any of it.” Linking their hands, she led the way to the small dining table where the place had been set for two. A uniformed maid materialized with a pot of coffee and placed it before them.

“Thanks Lacie. We’ll have the eggs and sausages, and I know Gaston made some fresh bread earlier.” She looked at her son. “I know you don’t eat too much, this early, but please indulge me.”

He merely nodded and poured the coffee into two cups. And tamped down his impatience.

He loved his mother dearly, but sincerely wished she would go ahead with these plans without his input. He had a hell of a lot to cover today, what with the new shipments going off and branding time which would take up a chunk of the day. There was also…

“You look tired, darling.” The concern in her voice had him lifting his head to look at her.

“Why, thanks, mother.” Injecting a teasing note in his deep voice, he handed her the cup of steaming coffee.

“That was not a criticism, just an observation.” She stirred sweetener in aware that her son was wincing. He and her husband had always wondered how on earth she could doctor a perfectly good brew.

But she had never learned to tolerate taking it black. She was originally from Ireland, Dublin to be precise and tea was her preferred beverage. Taking a tentative sip, she nodded and turned her gaze on her only child. His skin was tanned from hours out in the sun, making his blue eyes appear even darker.

His ash blonde hair, another inheritance from her, needed trimming. It tended to curl and was mashed down somewhat by the hat. He was a handsome man, she thought, feeling the familiar thrill running through her.

That she had produced such a man like him had always baffled her. He was topping six foot three, even taller than his dad had been and had the lean whipcord strength of someone who spent all his life doing manual tasks. Shrugging away her thoughts, she proceeded to give him details.