Marie Ferrarella

Fortune's Heirs: Reunion


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feeling of déjà vu shot through him with the velocity of an iron-tipped arrow.

      He hadn’t recognized the woman’s clothes, or even the color of her hair, but then she turned to look at him and, well, that wasn’t the kind of face a man easily forgot.

      Not even if he tried.

      Gloria stared at the man framed in the doorway, recognizing him instantly. It was the man who’d been so rude he’d managed to bring out the worst in her at an incredibly fast speed. Mr. Fortune obviously knew him. More than that, he seemed to have been waiting for him.

      Why? What did this mean?

      Suddenly there was a distinct sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Her fingertips felt moist again, the way they always did when she felt the walls closing in around her.

      Was it a premonition?

      Holding her breath, Gloria turned away from the younger man in the doorway and looked at Patrick Fortune, a silent, formless prayer echoing in her brain.

      Patrick’s eyes shifted from his son to the woman in front of him and back again. He had gotten to his present station in life through hard work coupled with very keen instinct. Instinct that was at times sharper than others’, but even at its worst was never dull.

      Right now his instincts told him that there was something going on here between Maria’s daughter and his son that he wasn’t quite aware of. Something he might be able to capitalize on.

      He adopted an innocent expression as he looked from one to the other again. “You two know each other?”

      “No.” Gloria shot the word out like a bullet.

      Jack, Patrick noted, hadn’t taken his eyes off Gloria since he walked in. “We rode up together in the elevator.” The words were ground out.

      A slightly puzzled note entered into his expression. “If you rode up together, then why—”

      Anticipation had Gloria interrupting. “He got off early,” she supplied.

      Jack set his jaw hard. Not adding, as he wanted to, that he’d gotten off because he hadn’t felt like riding up all those floors with an obvious shrew.

      This couldn’t be the woman his father wanted him to work with, Jack thought. His luck didn’t run that bad.

       Chapter Three

      His father was looking at him, obviously still waiting for some kind of good, believable explanation as to why he’d gotten off on another floor rather than arrive here with this annoying woman.

      Jack was sharp when it came to matters in the boardroom. But personal things, such as his reaction to this woman, were another matter. The only excuse he could come up with was, “I forgot something.”

      Patrick nodded, wise enough to let the matter drop. Jack doubted that his father really believed him, but was clearly willing to let it go. For now.

      “Nothing important, I trust,” Patrick said, eyeing his firstborn.

      “Excuse me?”

      “That ‘thing’ you forgot, it was nothing important, I trust,” Patrick repeated. Just the slightest hint of humor curved his mouth as he continued to look at Jack.

      “No, nothing important,” Jack murmured. Just my sanity.

      Patrick’s eyes never left his son’s face. Jack was so much a chip off the old block that at times it was positively scary. He saw himself in Jack’s eyes, in Jack’s actions. Which was why, when Maria Mendoza had approached him for help regarding her daughters, the first thing he’d thought of was to get Jack involved in Gloria’s business transfer. He knew that, given Jack’s business acumen, it was a little like offering a building contractor a set of rubber blocks. But he wasn’t necessarily looking to challenge Jack. Not professionally, at any rate. The challenge he offered was to the inner man, the one whose development had been arrested all these years. Ever since Jack’s college days.

      It was high time that Jack stop playing the one note he was so exceptionally skilled at playing and fill out the other corners of his life.

      Patrick was aware, although Jack never spoke about it, that his son had had his heart set on marrying Ann Garrison, a girl he’d known in college. When she was killed while driving under the influence one night, nearly taking Jack with her, his oldest had withdrawn from the world. But then slowly, with the support of his family, Jack had crawled back out and thrown himself into the family business.

      In the beginning he’d been very grateful that Jack had found a way to help himself heal. But after a while, it had become apparent that this was the only path his son would take.

      Nothing mattered but the banking business and that was wrong. He’d learned that the hard way himself. It was a lesson he meant to pass on to Jack even if Jack resisted. He didn’t want his son looking back at the end of his years and seeing nothing but cold accomplishments to have marked his passage through this earth.

      A man needed a family. His own family. And children. Gloria might not be the one Jack ultimately wound up with, but considering the fact that his son wasn’t out looking at all, Gloria seemed more than capable of getting him interested in pursuits other than business.

      Patrick had a knack for reading people and Gloria didn’t look the type to be intimidated. At the very least, he doubted if his slightly larger-than-life son would plow the woman under. She could probably go ten rounds with Jack and still hold her own.

      And if he read between the lines of what Maria had told him about her daughter, Gloria could use the stimulation, as well.

      Right now, though, silence was hanging extremely heavily in the room. Patrick felt as if he was the impromptu referee at an unofficial bout.

      Mentally he rubbed his hands together. Let the games begin, he thought.

      “Well, then, let’s get on with it. I suppose formal introductions are in order. Jack, I’d like you to meet your, um, new ‘project.’” Patrick flashed a smile at the young woman. “Gloria Mendoza Johansen. Gloria, this is my oldest son, Jack.” He didn’t bother hiding the pride in his voice. Life was too short to scrimp on praise when it was due. “Next to me, I’d say that Jack is the most savvy businessman I know. He’ll be handling your affairs.” His smile widened. “So to speak.”

      She’d never seen eyes that twinkled before. But there was definitely a twinkle in Patrick Fortune’s eyes. Why?

      And his words caused alarms to go off in her head. “You mean that you’re not going to be overseeing the shop?” She’d thought that was why he’d asked her here. But he was palming her off on his son, Mr. Charm-and-Personality.

      It was the last thing she wanted. Recovering from the jolt, her first instinct was to say, “Thanks, but no thanks.” After all, she’d originally started the business in Denver all by herself and it had been doing very nicely, thank you very much. Over the two years that it had been in existence, the store had gained a small but loyal and solid following. And she had contractual work in Hollywood, as well. An actress on a popular sitcom had fallen in love with one of her necklace designs and suddenly she was getting calls from the west coast, asking her to create the jewelry for the whole show.

      All of this had come about on the strength of her skill and by word of mouth. There was even a man in New York City who’d flown out to buy his wife a Christmas present. His wife had seen her work while vacationing in Denver and had fallen in love with it. And he knew some people who knew some people…Whatever it took to build up a clientele, she mused.

      There was absolutely no reason why she couldn’t do that right here in San Antonio. After all, this was only a stone’s throw from where she’d originally started out, Red Rock. She already knew people here.

      But there was no denying that the Fortunes were a power to be reckoned with and when one of them offered to show up in your corner,