Chapter Twelve
When Devlin realized that Liz’s odd behavior was because of the Baron money, he felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. The Baron money and connections had always been a blessing. Well, with the exception of finding people who cared about them and not their money. Today, for the first time ever, he wished that he’d come from an ordinary middle-class family with a two-story house and a fenced-in yard.
When she finally told him what had her behaving oddly, his heart sank. His money and family were as much a part of him as his fingers and toes, and there was little he could do to change any of that. After they’d stopped for Hazel’s snack and she’d smiled that it was perfect, he came within an inch of leaning in and kissing her. Of trying to convince her he was no different than any other man regardless of his bank accounts. As much as he hated it, good sense stepped in and he quickly retreated.
As they rode up to the barn, Devlin noticed she climbed off the horse as easily as she’d climbed on. “When did you say was the last time you’d gone riding?”
She patted the horse’s neck and handed Mack the reins. “I was ten or eleven. Spent the summer at a dude ranch that had expanded into a summer camp.”
“A woman full of surprises.”
“Not really.” She smiled.
That smile meant everything to him. He could only hope that in time, she’d be as comfortable around the Barons as her sister is. “Word of warning.”
Her back stiffened.
“Nothing bad, but my grandfather is a former Marine.”
Still apprehensive, tension obvious in her shoulders, she nodded.
“He may come off a bit gruff, but don’t let that phase you. He’s really a pussycat in his old age.”
The way her one brow shot up higher than the other, he doubted she believed him.
“Really. You’ll see. Watch how he is with the dogs.”
“Dogs?”
“My cousin Kyle gifted them a couple of border collie mix puppies from a shelter and now the two never leave Grams or the Governor’s side.” From the way the corners of her mouth tipped up, he suspected that meant she liked dogs. Maybe dinner wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.
At the back door, Hazel greeted them by handing Liz a Boston crème tart fresh out of the oven.
Blowing on it before taking a bite, Liz’s eyes almost rolled back in her head. “Oh, my. This is amazing.”
Hazel beamed. “Traded recipes with a woman I met from Boston. Her family is enjoying sweet southern corn bread.”
“I think we got the better end of the deal.” Liz took another bite.
Devlin chuckled. “You may not say that once you’ve tasted Hazel’s cornbread.”
Her smile firmly planted across her face, Hazel shrugged. “I may have made some cornbread for tonight.”
“Oh. Everything tastes better with cornbread.” Dev rubbed his hands together enthusiastically.
“Are we having dinner in the kitchen tonight?” Porter came through the kitchen doorway carrying an ice bucket and stopped short in front of Liz and frowned. “New hairstyle?”
Liz shook her head.
“Lose a few pounds? Not that you needed it.”
Again she shook her head and a smile teased one side of her mouth.
“Well, it can’t be the jeans.”
Both Devlin and Liz broke out in full, rolling laughter as Devlin smacked his cousin on the back. “Sorry, Porter. Meet Liz Carter. Emily’s twin sister.”
Porter’s eyes rounded wide before a smile took over his face. “Sorry about that. Nice to meet you.” Glaring at his cousin, he leaned in and softly muttered, “You could have warned me the sister was a twin.”
Biting back a laugh, Liz’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Now where’s the fun in that?”
“Okay.” Hazel waved her arms at the Baron grandchildren. “I have work to do. Y’all can debate genetics and family later. For now, everyone out of my kitchen.”
“I need more ice.” Porter held up the bucket.
“Fine.” Hazel nodded, taking the bucket from his hands and lifting her chin towards the door. “You’ll get your ice. Now shoo.”
They’d made it into the foyer when Grams came down the stairs, one of the dogs at her side. At the sight of Liz, Devlin’s grandmother sprouted a broad smile. “What a pleasant surprise. Devlin didn’t tell us you’d be joining us. It’s always such a pleasure to have you.”
“Oh, yes. Well.” Liz turned to Devlin and Porter at the same time the doorbell rang.
Porter stepped away from the group and opened the door.
“Sorry, I’m a little late. Somehow I managed to get everything taken care of.” Emily smiled at all the faces staring at her.
Her head turning from Liz to Emily, Lila Baron grabbed the newel post at the bottom of the stair. “I may need to call Dr. Rayburn.”
Devlin took a step closer and kissed his grandmother on the cheek. “Sorry, Grams. Liz and Emily are twins.”
“Twins?” Grams glanced at one, then the other, and slowly bobbed her head. Another moment and her smile returned. “Well, how much more wonderful is it for us. Come along, everyone. I want to see the Governor’s face when he meets you both.”
Over the next few moments, Devlin would have sacrificed his soul to have had his phone out and the video recording. The chatter in the living room slowly came to a halt as one by one, a family member looked up and spotted not one, but two Emilys. When his grandfather raised his head and spewed his coffee clear across several feet, like a credit card commercial, the moment was priceless. Actually, lately a lot of things around here were priceless.
Liz had no idea if she should laugh with everyone, or turn on her heel and high tail it back to Dallas. The whole day had been insanely surreal. Yes, she knew the Barons had money. Any idiot would know that. But it hadn’t dawned on her until today that the Barons had money with a capital M. They probably ran in the same circles as the other billionaires on the Forbes list. Heck, for all she knew, they were on the dumb thing!
And yet, if she didn’t look at her surroundings, most of the time, Devlin seemed like an ordinary nice guy. Yes, a nice guy with connections, but mostly just… nice.
“It will be a pleasure having both of you join us for dinner.” Mrs. Baron nodded and waved toward the dining room. “I have it on good authority that supper will be served shortly.”
At the table, Devlin’s grandmother seated Emily and Liz on either side of Devlin. The way the older woman kept eyeing Emily and smiling, Liz almost felt as if the lady knew something no one else in the room did.
The sound of chairs scraping across the hardwood floors filled the room. One by one, family members settled in. Liz glanced down at the table setting in front of her and was once again reminded about the capital M in money. If her first instinct was right, she’d bet a year’s salary that the silverware before her was sterling. Not that it should matter, right? After all, a fork is a fork.
Not till Jeeves moved around the table pouring water from a silver pitcher did she realize the purpose of the large goblet to her right. As for the other two, she suspected at least one was for wine. But what the heck was the other for?
As the conversation grew around the table, her confusion over the goblets was solved. Apparently, the larger of the two remaining glasses was for red wine and the smaller for white. It had never dawned on her how much she didn’t know about how the upper crust lived. And yet, once the conversation got rolling, a plethora of forks and goblets wasn’t really a big deal, was it?
“I heard that Steer’s Den is having trouble re-opening?” Mitch passed the bread basket to his right.
Devlin practically growled. “Fire department found evidence of arson. Now the insurance company is refusing to pay out until the cause of the fire can be confirmed—”
Bushy brows buckled together, the Governor nearly growled, cutting Devlin off. “And Stuart proven innocent.”
On a sigh, Devlin nodded. “I’m afraid so. Stuart is currently their suspect of choice simply because the place was well insured.”
“Of course it was well insured.” Mitch’s wife flipped the palm of her free hand upward. “It’s one of the best, if not the best , steak house in Houston. Business is always booming. Burning it down makes no sense.”
“Gwyneth is right. We need to do something.” Colton, Porter’s brother, looked to their grandfather.
Celeste, their sister, set her drink down heavily. “Do we know someone at the insurance company?”
Devlin shook his head. “I’ve already reached out to every contact I know. The guy in charge of this is young and new and out to prove himself.”
“Lord spare me from ambitious newbies.” Shaking her head, Eve reached for her wine glass.
“Is the only problem money?” Paige directed the question at Devlin.
“For now, yes.”
“Then we’ll definitely have to do something.” Not bothering to look around the table for her family’s reactions, Paige stuck her fork in the mashed potatoes and promptly shoved it into her mouth.
“Like what?” Cooper, another cousin she’d seen at the gala last week, looked on with interest.
Through narrowed eyes, Paige briefly stared up at the ceiling before smiling. “Grams?”
“Yes?”
“What’s the fastest you ever put a charity gala together?”
His grandmother tightened her lips, glancing up much the same way her granddaughter had just done before nodding her head and smiling. “Ten days. But that was in the day when the only way to send out invitations was via snail mail.”
“There you have it.” Paige sat back in satisfaction.
“I’m sorry.” Cooper waved a spoon at his cousin. “Have what?”
“A way to help Stuart. We’ll organize a fundraising gala. And since it did so well last time,” she paused to smile at Devlin, “we can do another bachelor auction.”
That was not what Devlin wanted to hear. “What is it with you and bachelor auctions?”
“They make a lot—and I mean a lot —of money.”
“Can’t we just get someone to donate a nice little Picasso or Matisse?” Devlin really did not want to deal with another auction and the Barracuda.
“He does have a point.” Bless his grandmother. Devlin had no idea what she was going to say, but as long as it got him out of another bachelor auction, he did not care. “Too much of the same too close together won’t have the same draw. It also might dilute the interest in next year’s bachelor auction if people expect it to be more common place.”
Thank you, Grams. “See? So, who has a spare Gauguin they never liked?”
“Don’t look at me.” Eve waved her hands. “Though I’m sure we could donate the naming rights to some new perfume if it will help.”
“I suppose.” Paige frowned. “We’d have to move fast to see what we can gather for the auction. I’m sure Stuart needs a flow of cash sooner than later to keep his people employed.”
“I suspect,” his grandfather raised a finger, “there are a great many patrons of the Steer’s Den who would be happy to donate an auction item, or even a little boost.”
“If we want to help, a lot of other people probably do too.” His grandmother returned her attention to the food on her plate.
“I don’t have any Picassos in my closet,” Emily chuckled, “but I’d be happy to lend a hand in organizing.”
“Me too,” Liz happily chimed in.
Rubbing her hands together as though she were outdoors in Alaska, Paige grinned like a fool. “I’d say we have a plan!”
Everyone at the table seemed to be as excited about another fundraiser as Paige. Even Liz and Emily were in the thick of the conversation now bouncing around the table. Ideas overflowed, and for what it was worth, Devlin had a few of his own, including how to spend more time with Miss Elizabeth Carter.