Chapter Eight #2
Zoe sipped her champagne, bubbles climbing up the crystal flute. “It’s incredible how Amanda and Nathan Battle juggle two such busy careers with family life. I’ve lost count of how many children they have.”
Esme toyed with the stem of her wineglass pensively. “It sounds like they have it all.”
“That they do.” Zoe grinned, motioning to the waiter who was walking by with a tray of champagne. She took another flute before looking back at Esme. “So how are you liking the rest of Royal?”
“Surprisingly very much. It’s not Houston, of course,” Esme said with a shrug, unworried about judgment since the woman was from Houston, as well, “but I’ve found there’s much more offered here than I expected. It’s a unique mix of a small town with some big-city amenities.”
“It’s quite a haven.” Zoe glanced over at her handsome dark-haired boyfriend, concern furrowing her forehead.
“I worry he’s going to miss Royal and all his friends here.
But he insists he’s committed to making a move to Houston for me.
He’s bought the loveliest ranch on the outskirts of town.
He’s making such a big sacrifice for me. For us.”
Zoe was a police detective in Houston. Her investigation into Vincent Hamm’s murder had brought her here to Royal. Esme and her family owed Zoe a debt of gratitude, the cop’s progress going a long way to help shift the cloud of suspicion off Sterling Perry.
Esme toyed with the placement of her silver dessert spoon. “How incredible that he’s willing to move for you.”
“We’re in love.” She looked toward her boyfriend, her face full of emotion. “We found a compromise, because the option of being apart was more than we could bear.”
Esme’s gaze skated to Jesse deep in conversation with his friend and she wondered…
If Cord was willing to relocate to Houston, might Jesse be willing to make the move, as well? Tomorrow would be pivotal for more than her father.
Her own future with Jesse rode on their trip to Houston.
Ryder Currin paced through the Houston building of the Texas Cattleman’s Club, checking last-minute touches to the structure’s renovations before the contingent from Royal arrived tomorrow.
Angela walked alongside him, making her own notes in her tablet, the scent of paint heavy in the air.
He could hardly believe the plans for starting this Houston branch were coming to fruition.
Ryder had been instrumental in bringing the chapter to Houston, and yes, he craved the position as president.
He wanted to lead the organization through this transitional time.
But would that ambition threaten his second chance with Angela, given how much her father wanted the same thing?
Telling himself it was pointless to borrow trouble, he pulled his attention back to the building, his boot steps echoing up to the soaring ceiling.
The location and architectural style for the Houston chapter’s future home was very different from the Royal club.
It had seemed an insurmountable project at first, since the historic former luxury boutique hotel had fallen into disrepair.
But all their plans for renovation were coming together, thanks to Perry Construction.
The three-story edifice had always been stunning on the outside. Now the inside matched.
The location was practical for so many reasons, including the fact that three doors down was the Houston Galleria Hotel, a medium-sized luxury hotel where members could stay when in town.
Angela’s high heels clicked on the floor as she walked ahead of him, caught up in her notes.
This club was important to her, too. Ryder understood she was caught in a tough position with both him and her father wanting the lead position here.
He didn’t want anything to interfere with this second chance they had.
He would withdraw if it came to that, but she’d insisted this should play out as the club decided.
He just wanted to make sure there was no negative blowback as they rolled out the official grand opening with a New Year’s Eve bash. Press releases for the event had been delayed with Esme Perry out of town for so long.
They’d all been thrown for a loop when Angela’s sister had decided to stay in Royal even after the storm passed. And of course, Sterling had been all too willing to accommodate time off work so his daughter could spend more time currying family favor.
Ryder was a man who abided by the rules, so this flagrant lobbying really chapped his hide. It just wasn’t fair play.
Angela made everything more complicated.
He loved her. Deeply. Truly. In a way that made his soul sing, something he hadn’t expected to happen again after his wife Elinah had died.
He didn’t underestimate how important it was to get this right with Angela.
His first marriage had ended in divorce.
He couldn’t regret the union since his son, Xander, had come from that relationship.
But his breakup with Penny was still a failure that marked him.
One he wouldn’t allow himself to repeat.
The rumors that he’d had feelings for Angela’s mom were true.
But he’d never acted on those feelings because of respect for rules and fair play.
Honor meant something to him. Besides, his second marriage had shown him what real love was.
Elinah. A part of his heart would always belong to her.
Their time together had been the best, years that gave him his daughter Annabel and then they’d adopted Maya.
Losing Elinah to cancer had almost destroyed him.
He wouldn’t go through that heartbreak again.
He would do whatever it took to keep he and Angela’s love safe.
There’d be no repeat of their breakup. Already he could envision her living in his home.
His log-style mansion wasn’t as fancy as the Perry place.
He’d grown up poor and had never been comfortable with ostentation.
Still, the place had been plenty roomy to bring up his children with space to spare. And for more children?
Ryder looked at Angela. He saw the weight that seemed to press down on her, to change her normal happy expression. He hated to see her sad. “I’m sorry your sister missed the brunch she had planned with you, Melinda, Tatiana and my girls.”
He was, truly, although secretly he was always antsy when Angela or his daughter Maya spent time with Tatiana. The woman was a shark with the power to upset their lives.
“The brunch will still happen, I’m sure.” A brief flash of disappointment flickered in Angela’s eyes before she schooled her features. “We haven’t set a specific date. Just sometime whenever Esme gets back.”
She noticed a paint droplet on a nearby marble plant stand and Ryder watched her as she worked to eradicate it.
“Well, keep me in the loop.” A glint caught his eyes. Stooping down, he picked up a stray nail from beneath a windowsill and pocketed it. Still so much to do.
“About my sister’s return?”
Shrugging, he ran a hand through his hair and then stopped at the nape of his neck. “Sure, and the brunch.”
Muffled noises grabbed his attention. Shouting and angry voices. He locked eyes with Angela. Her brow furrowed in confusion.
His daughter Maya shouldered past the painters putting last-minute touches on some trim. She raced toward him in a flurry of color with her bold yellow coat and her vibrant red hair. His youngest child had never been one to get lost in the shuffle of day-to-day life.
“Dad, I have to talk to you,” she demanded, her raised voice echoing upward as she crashed into the room. Panting and distraught, she wasn’t budging.
“Well, hello to you, too, Maya. It’s good to see you. Angela and I are almost through here—”
“No, Dad. Not later. Now. There are so many rumors flying around about our family, too many secrets. I can’t—I won’t—wait any longer. I’m eighteen. It’s time we finally had this talk.” She stomped her foot in exasperation, but her eyes were filled with tears.
Regret hit him in the chest, that he’d brought his daughter to this level of anxiety.
Angela clasped his arm, a welcome touch when Maya’s outburst had him reeling. “I’ve got plenty to occupy me. Please, take as long as you need.”
She gave his arm a final squeeze before walking off toward a pile of plaster dust beneath a gilded mirror, snapping photos with her tablet.
“Thank you,” he said, appreciating that she understood and accepted how important his children were to him. He tucked an arm around his daughter’s shoulders and guided her to the café area free of painters.
Maya gasped for air beside him, her shoulders shaking in a way that telegraphed how close she was to losing it. He’d put enough bandages over skinned knees and listened to enough of her high school drama to read the signs.
He guided her to a club chair and dropped into another one across from her. “What’s going on, Maya? These rumors about the family business have been circulating for a while now. What made today so upsetting?”
Maya closed her eyes tightly. Took a deep breath.
Then another.
Ryder could see her mouth moving as she counted to ten before she opened her eyes. His fire-haired child had always struggled to rein in her emotions.
“It’s been building up for a long time, and then when the invitations went out for the mother-daughter tea today…” She picked at the wrist of her yellow coat. “I need you to tell me the truth, once and for all.”
A sigh all but deflated him. Hearing about the mother-daughter tea sucker punched him, even after all these years since Elinah died. He would always miss her. She’d been a loving wife and mother. He’d tried to make up for what his children had lost…but it was an impossible void to fill.
Then a dark thought hit him. Maya was asking about her biological mother. He’d promised to tell her when she was eighteen and he’d put it off long enough. The pit in his gut grew deeper.