The C.E.O. & the Cookie Queen

by Victoria Chancellor

  Parts of the puzzle that was Carole Jacks had fallen into place, though, when he’d learned her greatest fear—losing her daughter to the “idealized” father in those glossy magazines. Carole had mentioned a documentary, one he imagined had something to do with Johnny Ray French—the early years. Perhaps even when Carole was still with him, before Jennifer was born. He’d asked Stewart to find more about the film, but apparently it was obscure, buried in the depths of some film vault. Probably not even indexed, or it would have been shown when French became famous.

  Someone would have dragged out the dirty linen, just like disreputable journalists would like to do on Ms. Carole herself if she were to become a spokesperson.

  But was there any dirty linen? He didn’t think so, although he had to admit he still wasn’t thinking too straight about her. He wanted to be objective, but he kept seeing her ravaged face, the fear in her eyes. He hated that he’d caused her to imagine such terrible scenarios.

  She shouldn’t be alone. When Jennifer had first left for camp, Carole had said how she hated to be alone in the house. How she missed her daughter’s giggles and complaints and everything that went with a ten-year-old girl.

  He grabbed the pillow and threw it across the room. Dammit, he had to do something. Jumping to his feet, he paced to the phone. He might not be able to comfort her, but he knew someone who could.

  “SO GREG CALLED HANK to get my number, and he called me to come over, sweetie. Hank said Greg was so upset.”

  “Sure,” Carole said, hugging her mother so hard she’d probably have bruises tomorrow. “I think he finally realized I meant no. He’s probably packing right now.”

  “I don’t think so. I think he really cares.”

  “Then why does he keep pushing me, Mama? Why can’t he leave everything alone?”

  “Because he’s trying to do what he thinks is right for his company, just like you’re trying to do what you think is best for yourself and Jenny.”

  “I don’t think, I know. How could exposing her to either a public rebuff by her father or an attempt to take her away from her family be okay?”

  “You don’t know that’s what will happen.”

  “Ha!” she said, pulling away and sniffing into her damp tissue. “You don’t know Johnny Ray.”

  “Sweetie,” her mother said, taking her by the shoulders, “neither do you. At least, not the way he is now. You only knew him as a nineteen-year-old loser. He’s about thirty now, a successful musician who has a pretty good reputation.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I read more than the royalty magazines, Carole Lynn,” her mother said, giving her a parental look that used to make her cringe. It still worked. She sniffed again and twisted away to pace the room.

  “Did you see this scrapbook? Jenny did this all on her own. I didn’t even know!”

  “She’s growing up. Of course she’s curious about her father.”

  “She should have asked me.”

  “Carole, once again, I have to tell you that you don’t know anything about the man he is today. You only know the boy you married.”

  “He was a jerk.”

  “Yes, he was, and you were a silly teenager. But look at you now. You’re responsible and successful and you’re a wonderful mother.”

  Carole felt as though her heart was being twisted inside her chest. “I had an affair with Greg, Mama. How responsible was that?”

  “Oh, Carole.”

  “Exactly! I was stupid again.”

  “That’s not what I meant! I don’t think making the decision to have a relationship with Greg is stupid. He isn’t Johnny Ray, sweetie. And your private life is your business. You should enjoy yourself.”

  “How can you say that? You’re my mother!”

  She shrugged. “He’s a very good-looking man and he obviously cares about you. You weren’t hurting anyone, so it’s not up to me to say you did anything wrong.”

  “Pastor Carl may disagree with you.”

  “Well now, you’ll have to take that up with him. I decided long ago that I would love you girls just as much when you became adults as I did when you were children. And believe me, an adult child can be just as difficult as a little one. Why, at one point, Kerry even accused me of wanting her to marry Alexi because he was a prince! Now, I know that’s not true, and she did apologize, but she was talking out of fear, just like you.”

  “That’s completely different. She was pregnant with his baby, and you have to admit that you always liked him.”

  “Yes, I did, and I love him like a son now. That’s why I think you should talk to your sister about this. She, better than anyone, would have some insights into dealing with the public…and insistent men, for that matter.”

  Carole held her head between her hands as her whole world spun around and around, so fast and crazy that she couldn’t get her bearings. She didn’t want to deal with the public. She didn’t want to tell her entire family about her recent mistake. “I can’t believe this night. I can’t believe this conversation.”

  Her mother pulled her down to the couch, sitting beside her and putting an arm around her shoulders. The world slowed and stopped wobbling so much. “Carole, you’re an adult, but you’ll always be my daughter. Someday you’ll have to say those same words to Jennifer. And I know you will, because no matter what difficulties come between you, there’s nothing like the love of a mother for her daughter. So I know you’re hurting by what seems like a betrayal from Jenny, but it’s just her way of expressing herself. She didn’t want to upset you, so she kept it a secret. Don’t make too much of her actions. And don’t worry about Johnny Ray. He’s a small part of your past. He doesn’t have to be part of your future.”

  “You can’t know that. Greg can’t know that, although he tried to tell me the same thing earlier. I think you’re both glossing over the very real possibility that Jenny’s father will interfere in our lives.”

  “Well, we just don’t know, now, do we?”

  “The only way to know for sure is to remain here in Ranger Springs, nice and quiet, just as we’ve been for the past ten years. If Jenny wants to find her father later, when she’s older, that’s her choice. But I won’t expose her to hurt when I don’t have to.”

  Her mother sighed. “I hear what you’re saying, but it all boils down to the fact that you’re afraid of what might happen. I just hate to think of you being so scared.”

  “I’m not scared all the time, Mama.” Just when she thought about losing her daughter. Losing her well-ordered life among family and friends.

  Losing her one and only lover.

  “You and Greg need to talk about this when you’re not so upset over Jennifer and Johnny Ray.”

  Carole shook her head, the idea of talking to Greg again even more upsetting than thinking about the past. “Greg made his intentions clear in the beginning, when he wanted me to be the spokesperson for Huntington Foods. And that would have been fine, but then I went and…and I wanted him, Mama. We were so attracted to each other that I wanted to believe he was coming back to Ranger Springs just for me. Just for me,” she repeated, thumping her chest with her fist as she saw her life, her mistakes, so clearly.

  “And then he came back and he was so nice to Jenny. She thinks he’s great,” Carole said, sniffing. “So I went to him and forgot all about the fact he still wanted me to be the spokesperson. He kept complimenting me on how well I handled problems, what good ideas I had and other things I realize now were all about subtle manipulation.

  “It wasn’t about me, the woman, Mama. It was always about his company.”

  “I don’t believe that’s true. We’ve all seen the way Greg looks at you. He’s not that good an actor.”

  “You just don’t know him well.”

  “Carole Lynn, neither do you.”

  “And now I never will!” Because she had terrible taste in men. Because men couldn’t be trusted to love someone enough to be there through good times and bad. Becau
se even the good ones, like Greg had seemed to be, were no better than her father or her former husband.

  She turned to her mother, hugged her tight, and burst into a new set of tears.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Did you have a good time at camp?” Carole asked as Jenny trooped to the front door on Saturday morning just before noon, dragging her duffel behind her.

  “It was neat. We caught those little green snakes and put them in the boys’ cabin. And we went swimming every day. Meagan got poise and ivy, and Ashley threw up after she ate too many cupcakes one night. That was yucky.”

  “Wow,” Carole said, forcing her best cheerful voice. She knew she should tell her daughter that Meagan had “poison ivy,” and terrifying boys with snakes wasn’t very nice, and eating too many cupcakes could make anyone sick, but she didn’t have the energy. Ever since talking to her mother, realizing what a mistake she’d made this time regarding a man, she just didn’t feel up to worrying about the little things.

  “You look really tired, Mom,” Jenny said as Carole held the door open for her.

  “Well, we had a little excitement around here the night before last.”

  “The fire?”

  “How did you know?”

  “We saw it from the road, and Ashley’s mother told us there was a grass fire at Mr. Whittaker’s place and part of Uncle Hank’s property.”

  “That’s right. And we got a little burned, but not much. Just a little grass and a couple of fence posts.”

  “Is Puff okay? He didn’t get scared, did he?”

  “No, he’s fine. Grandma came over, and so did Mr. Rafferty, so I had lots of help.”

  “Oh, that’s good. So, why are you so tired?”

  Carole dragged Jenny’s duffel into the laundry room, tempted to dump the whole thing in the washing machine. “I stayed up all night just to make sure the fire didn’t get too close to the house or barn.”

  “Oh.” Jenny looked around the kitchen. “Do you have any cookies?”

  “Yes, I do. I made your favorite.”

  “Chunky chocolate chip! Yeah!”

  Carole managed a weak smile as her daughter rushed into the kitchen. She focused on the dirty clothes, telling herself that things would be fine now. Jenny was home for the summer, except for short trips or sleepovers. The house wouldn’t be empty anymore.

  “So is Mr. Rafferty coming over today? I want to show him my friendship bracelet,” Jenny said from the doorway, holding out her arm.

  Carole took a deep breath. “Mr. Rafferty isn’t coming over. I imagine he’s already gone back to Chicago.”

  “Oh,” Jenny said, deflated. “I wanted to see him. When is he coming back?”

  “I don’t think he’s coming back.”

  “What?” Jenny sounded incredulous, as if she couldn’t imagine life without Greg Rafferty. “Why did he go away? Where’s Puff? What did he do with him?”

  “He didn’t do anything…yet.” Except leave the big steer here for Jennifer, along with a six-month supply of grain that would barely fit in the feed room and an equal supply of hay was stored in an empty stall. Lester Boggs at the feed store said he had instructions to deliver more if needed and charge it to Greg. Of course, being Lester, he’d said it with a wink that implied the Chicago businessman had ulterior motives for being so generous.

  Lester didn’t have a clue. No one did. They all thought Greg was romancing her by being nice to her family and friends, buying Jenny’s steer and providing feed, and spending so much time in Ranger Springs. Ha!

  But she didn’t want to think about Greg. She wanted to answer her daughter’s question and focus on her return from camp. “Mr. Rafferty said that if we didn’t want to keep Puff, he would make arrangements to put him in a petting zoo. I think he found one in Fort Worth that would take him.”

  “Puff doesn’t want to live in Fort Worth, around a bunch of strangers.”

  “Sometimes we don’t have a lot of choices,” Carole said quietly, sorting colored clothes from whites that needed bleach. She turned her head to the wall, but she could tell Jenny was watching her.

  “Mom, you look really weird. What’s wrong?”

  Carole sniffed. “I’m fine. I just don’t want to talk about Mr. Rafferty anymore, okay?”

  “Are you mad at him?”

  “No, I’m not mad.” She measured detergent, then closed the lid and turned on the washer. “Well, maybe a little angry.”

  “What did he do?”

  Carole wanted to wave off her daughter’s question, but knew the subject would come up again. “You know how he wanted me to work for his company? Well, when he came back, he kept bringing it up and finally we had a big fight.”

  “What did he want you to do?”

  “Put my picture on the packages of cookies, make commercials, speak to people. That sort of thing.” She shrugged. “That’s just not me, Jenny. I can’t do things like that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because people who make commercials and do interviews on television and things like that are…different.”

  “How?”

  “What is this, twenty questions? Just trust me that I couldn’t do what he wanted, and he didn’t understand that.”

  “But, Mom, you always said that a person can be whatever they want to be. I think it would be fun to be famous and be on TV. Why wouldn’t you want to do that?”

  “Because then people start talking about you. Maybe they don’t like the way you wear your hair or the clothes you wear. Or they think you talk stupid or laugh at your accent. And then they won’t buy cookies because if they don’t like me, they don’t like the cookies.”

  “I don’t think there are many people like that. I think people would really like you, Mom.”

  “I’m not a celebrity, Jenny.”

  “Well, you could be, if you wanted to. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to see your picture on the cookie bags. That would be so neat to show my friends.”

  Jenny didn’t understand how disruptive such publicity would be. She couldn’t imagine the downside of being a celebrity—if you could call someone who came up with cookie recipes a celebrity. “You sound like Mr. Rafferty. He didn’t understand, either. That’s why we had the disagreement.”

  “Aw, Mom. I thought you really liked him. He’s nice, and he’s kind of cute for an older guy.”

  Carole smiled despite her pain. “He’s not that old.” He was, however, drop-dead handsome. Sexy as sin. And completely dedicated to his company, not to her. He’d even investigated her behind her back. When she thought of how she’d immersed herself in him for those days…and all the while he wanted to convince her to become Huntington’s spokesperson.

  “He’s ‘daddy old,’ not ‘granddaddy old,”’ Jenny explained.

  Carole walked into the kitchen, reaching for the scrapbook that she hadn’t put away yet. “Speaking of daddies, why didn’t you tell me you’d started collecting pictures of your father?”

  Jenny looked down at her pink sneakers. “Oh, that.”

  “It’s okay that you wanted to see what he looked like, but I think we should talk about this.”

  “Well, you didn’t have any pictures, and I had them for everyone else. All my friends have pictures of both their parents, so I thought I’d just cut them out of the magazines.”

  “Jenny, you know I haven’t talked to your father in ten years. We never had anything to talk about.”

  “I know,” she said in a little voice, “but that was a long time ago, before I was even born. What if he wanted to talk now?”

  “If he wanted to talk, sweetie,” Carole said gently, placing her hands on her daughter’s shoulders, “he knows where we live.”

  Jenny shrugged, which broke Carole’s heart. She wanted her father to at least acknowledge her. “I’m sorry, Jenny. Your father and I were very, very young when we got married. He wasn’t ready to be a daddy. He’s still not ready. He hasn’t gotten married again, has he?”
/>   “No.”

  “See? This is just about him. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “I’d like to meet him sometime, though. You know, just to say hello.”

  “I know,” Carole said, pulling her daughter close and holding her tight. “I’m sorry he’s not ready to be your daddy, but everyone here loves you very much. You’re the best part of our family.”

  “I am?” Jenny asked, looking up. “Better than Aunt Princess Kerry?”

  “Absolutely,” Carole said, finally feeling like a genuine smile. Ever since Kerry had married Prince Alexi last fall, Jenny had insisted on using both her aunt’s titles.

  After hugging for just a moment, Jenny pulled away to reach for the plate of cookies. She selected one, then looked up, all casual innocence. “So maybe you should call Mr. Rafferty and see if he left already. Maybe you should ask him to come back and see us.”

  Carole felt her smile fade. Just like Johnny Ray French, just like her father, Greg Rafferty knew where to find her if he wanted to get in touch. And besides, why should she get in touch when she was the one who was hurt by his single-minded dedication to his idea for saving the company?

  GREG WENT to the Four Square Café for lunch on Saturday for the last time. He’d called for the jet to pick him up later today at the regional airport, but he wanted to say goodbye to people he’d met and liked in Ranger Springs.

  “Hello, Greg,” Mrs. Jacks greeted him, her normally bubbly personality subdued as she grabbed rolled silverware and a menu.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Jacks. How are you?”

  “I’m fine.” She placed the menu on top of one of those scenic placemats the café used. “I’m doing a lot better than some people.”

  “Is she…okay? Did Jennifer get home from camp?”

  “No, she’s not okay, and yes, Jennifer is home.” She put the silverware, wrapped in a paper napkin, down with controlled force. “I’ll get you some iced tea.”

  Maybe this was a mistake. He noticed Thelma Rogers from the paper sitting with her friend Joyce Wheatley and Joyce’s husband, Ambrose, who was a semi-retired physician. They weren’t glaring at him, but they didn’t look real friendly, either. By the front window, the pretty, honey-blond lady who was married to the police chief read her menu, although she probably knew it by heart since her antiques store was right across the square. There were some other folks, but he didn’t know them by name or profession.