One to Win

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One to Win Page 6

by Michelle Monkou


  “Hope is an expensive hanger-on.” He spoke with a startling flatness.

  “You used to have a lot of hope.” Fiona realized that she hadn’t been wrong when she’d sensed his frosty emotional condition. It didn’t appear to be deeply buried. Or she brought out this side of him. A sobering thought.

  “And look where that got me.” He pulled up in front of the house with a sharp pump on the brake that had them both lurching forward and falling back into their seats.

  “Hope shouldn’t ever be discarded.” She didn’t know how to ease his bitterness.

  “Blind faith is for the young.”

  “Now you’re trying to convince me that your twenty-eight years have moved you into Confucius status? What does that make me at thirty-two? And watch what you say, or I’m not coming to your dinner party.”

  That seemed to tone down the heated exchange.

  He stared straight ahead. His jaw working over whatever thoughts wrestled behind his mental curtain. Then he turned to her with a half smile and replied, “I wouldn’t want to do that. Wouldn’t want you not to feel welcome.”

  Fiona watched his smile unfold into something warm and achingly familiar. Right now, if he leaned over to initiate the hint of a kiss, she would fall under his spell. Her plan was to navigate the bumpy road between them, staying away from the ragged potholes that could cause a snag in their momentum toward a fragile truce. What her plan didn’t take into account was how strong her desire for Leo was.

  She could keep the peace with a neutral, friendly approach. Or she could surrender to her powerful yearning and blast the landscape to smithereens.

  As she looked up into his eyes, his unreadable reaction made her hesitate over what to do. But since when had she become so cautious?

  Fiona took a deep breath and mentally jumped off the cliff. Just like that, she decided to free-fall and go with the unpredictable, risky scenario. Perform a sneak attack and go after, for the second time, the only man she ever loved.

  Chapter 4

  The call to dinner had the power to tie Leo’s stomach into nervous knots. Time to meet the rest of the family. Normally, vacation settings called for a casual get-together for the average family coming to eat at the dinner table. But this event didn’t feel casual at all. Plus, this wasn’t the average family. As the outsider, he hoped to stay quietly on the periphery without affecting the family dynamic. There was enough gossip about rivalries and strained relationships between Grace and her children that he didn’t want to witness any drama during his stay. His goal was to attend to Grace’s business needs and smoothly navigate through any awkward dilemmas. And he felt sure there would be more than a few, especially with Fiona’s ability to twist his common sense into a chaotic mess, along with being a conspirator in keeping a huge family secret. His rising guilt rustled like a persistent, soft breeze over dry, brittle land, stirring up the top layer of dirt. With an effort, he relied on cold, plain logic to tamp down the pangs.

  “Ah, good to see that you’re quite prompt, Leo.” Grace was already seated in the dining room at the head of the table. Her head bobbed in a regal nod.

  She introduced him to Felicity and Wade, Belinda’s parents. Then he met Cassie—Grace’s sister—and Elaine, who was Dana’s mother. Familiarizing himself with the family tree was an important survival step. Grace’s husband, Henry, waved from the opposite head seat at the table. Leo settled for the chair diagonally opposite Fiona’s to avoid being obvious when he stole glances at her.

  An invisible dividing line through the middle of the table separated the past and the present generations. Grace’s daughters and their spouses sat facing each other, closer to her side. At the other end, the granddaughters and Jesse clustered together with Henry. Leo figured his seat close to the middle line was Switzerland and he’d do his best to stay in neutral territory. A quick look at Fiona, who caught his peek, and his body reacted as if hit with static electricity, a reminder that he was anything but neutral.

  The generational division was also on display in their outward appearances. Parents showed up to dinner suited up and dressed in their Sunday best. The granddaughters, except for Dana, who was missing, wore casual to, well, dressy casual. He couldn’t tell if the younger generation aimed to be deliberately rebellious. But he suspected that they knew their strength was in their unity.

  Leo relied on simple logic for interacting with the Meadowses on their turf. Since he was the guest, and not really on vacation, he chose to observe, play by the rules and fight to come out on the winning side of any game. While his white shirt, minus a tie, and black pants couldn’t be mistaken as formal wear or designer casual, he did earn Grace’s nod of approval.

  As the family’s cornerstone, Grace was the long-serving reigning queen. Even the afternoon sun seemed to collaborate with her to accentuate her power. The slanted beam of sunlight shone through the large windows and over Grace’s chair. Bathed in its glow, she looked the part of the matriarch in a simple but classic soft white dress. She looked down the length of the table with a gracious smile.

  “Hey, Grandma, Grandpa, everyone else. Can’t wait to dig in.” Dana sailed through the door in capri pants and a T-shirt. She didn’t look anything like the CEO of a media company.

  “Why must you be so loud?” Grace openly regarded her choice of clothing, which Dana ignored as she weighed her options for an open seat.

  Her gaze settled on the seat next to Leo. The wide grin directed at him made him feel like a trap had been set. “Hi, Leo, how was your date with Fiona? Oops, did I say date? I mean day.”

  Leo cringed, refusing to look at the head of the table. Could her voice be any louder?

  Dana leaned in toward him. “Well...?”

  “It wasn’t a date. We drove into town for a few things.” He kept his voice low, but the sudden quietness around the table easily lifted his words to ensure that everyone heard his abrupt denial.

  “Either way, I’d say that you have a girlfriend.” Dana didn’t let up. She rubbed his nerves like an annoying a younger sibling—or like he imagined an annoying younger sibling would.

  “Dana, stop with your foolishness. Say the prayer,” Grace ordered.

  “Maybe that’ll shut her up,” Fiona said, with an accompanying death stare at her cousin.

  The prayer before meals was offered and was followed by two servants entering with the first course, French-onion soup. Leo didn’t eat like this, where his meals came in seemingly nonstop waves. He hoped that it wouldn’t be bad manners not to finish everything on his plate. This wasn’t the place to gorge and sit back afterward, patting his full belly.

  As he left his soup bowl with half its contents, he heard Fiona’s slight clearing of her throat. He looked up to see her exaggeratedly scooping the last bit of her soup from the bowl and into her mouth. She offered a slight nod. Shifting his gaze back to his bowl, he conceded that she was eating a full meal. Without making eye contact, he lifted the corner of his mouth as acknowledgment of her effort.

  The second round of food smelled mouthwateringly good. The covered dish was placed in front of him. Steam jutted from the hole in the center of the dome. He wanted to rub his hands and bounce in his chair like a kid waiting to open presents. His stomach rumbled loud enough for Dana to giggle. The server pulled off the cover.

  Leo inhaled the rich savory smell of filet mignon, roasted red potatoes and steamed artichoke tips. He had no doubt that a master chef worked in the kitchen. The presentation was perfection. His mouth was already anticipating the first bite. Good grief, he didn’t want to be the first to attack the plate, but his restraint was on the verge of collapse. He couldn’t wait to dive in.

  Raised voices and a hurried clatter of footsteps approaching the dining room interrupted his plan to cut into the tender meat. His first glance was at Grace, who visibly bristled, her attention glued to th
e doorway. For some clue as to what was happening, he ignored Dana and looked over to Fiona for enlightenment. She was half-turned in the seat with her gaze also on the doorway. Although he couldn’t see her expression, her body language offered enough clues that the arriving guests caused the rigid set of her shoulders and the tension in her face. A harried man appeared in the room before a woman, whose visage and attitude had an ice-queen edge, stepped into view alongside him.

  Dana leaned in toward him. “It’s Fiona’s mother, Verona, and her father, Jasper. They’ve come fashionably late. Not their style, but I guess something more important must have held them up. Uncle Jasper looks like he’s going to have a stroke. He’s all about punctuality. Aunt Verona, not so much.”

  Leo appreciated the intel. He didn’t want to sit in the chair of judgment on this woman who had a secret that was soon to be no longer hers. But he couldn’t stop his mind from wondering about her as she moved with fluid grace farther into the room. This woman who oozed confidence and haughty disdain didn’t mesh with the story of a young mother in college who’d successfully hidden her pregnancy.

  “Mother, sorry we are late. Jasper had work to complete at the office before we could leave to get here.” She brushed her cheek against her mother’s and then headed down to the other side of the table to kiss her father’s cheek. “Fiona, good to see you.” She touched her daughter’s shoulder but pulled back as soon as her hand landed, as if she’d suddenly realized what she’d done.

  Verona raised her eyes, locking on to him with glacial precision.

  He had to display grit, even if he had to fake the steely resolve. It shouldn’t be a shock that he wouldn’t be showered with warm smiles and consideration. The details of his assignment dictated the landscape be unfriendly and frosty.

  Fiona’s noticeable hurt at Verona’s stiff greeting did throw him off. The obvious emotional turmoil between mother and daughter was unexpected. But Fiona had never shared much about her parents. And as he recalled, she’d never introduced him to them. While Verona did a good impression of an ice princess, Jasper murmured his hellos to everyone, nodding to him but staying put in his seat. Overall, he looked exhausted.

  “Verona, would you take your seat so we can continue with our meal?” Grace’s irritation pinged off each word.

  Finally, Leo dived into his food. Maybe the steak wasn’t piping hot, but it was still deliciously edible. Eating was a lot easier on the digestion than watching this display.

  “You were saying, Leo, that you went to the market with Fiona.” Dana pressed on and he dearly wanted to stab her hand with the fork. Any points she’d earned for the intel had been subtracted for the relentless teasing. Couldn’t she read the massive spike of tension in the room?

  “Oh, leave it alone.” Fiona burst into the discussion. “Stop making something out of nothing.”

  Silence dropped for few seconds before forks sharply hit a plate or two. Leo kept his head down and admired the perfectly cut stems of the artichoke.

  “Jesse, how are the renovations with the stable going? More expansion, right?” Henry took the baton and Leo wanted to offer a hearty handshake to the older man.

  “Yes, sir. The clients have doubled after the opening ceremony.” Thanks to Jesse’s prompt response, silence didn’t hang over the group. Various conversations continued.

  Henry said, “Good. I think children should have a place to come and have fun. Life is too serious.”

  “It’s not really a playground, Grandpa. It’s so that children with disabilities and challenges, physical or otherwise, can receive another form of therapy. Using horses isn’t a new method to treat people. My goal is to make it more accessible.” Belinda’s passion poured out in a way that caught Leo’s interest in her endeavor.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you, dear.”

  “I know. And I didn’t mean to sound like a walking billboard.”

  They continued talking about the center, with more family members now contributing to the discussion. As they shared their insights, Leo realized how unique they were and the common base was their innovative mind-set. He wasn’t familiar with Grace’s daughters, but they had to have learned something from their mother to have raised their own daughters to make their marks in their respective careers. That generational legacy was an aching void in his life.

  “Grace, you really haven’t introduced your guest.” An unfamiliar female voice shifted the conversation to his presence.

  Leo looked up from his almost-empty plate and toward the voice to see who had turned on the spotlight and pointed it on him. Every face looked back at him.

  “Sorry, I thought everyone knew Leo. Cassie, he is working on some legal matters that couldn’t wait until after our vacation. He’s staying in the guesthouse, but you will see him in my office. Please make him feel welcomed, everyone.”

  Grace’s sister regarded him without hostility but with such open curiosity that he wanted to ask her if something was wrong. He doubted that Cassie was satisfied by Grace’s explanation.

  “I’m sure Fiona will be happy to make him feel comfortable,” Dana mumbled for only his ears.

  “And that would make her kind.” Leo didn’t mumble or mutter. After dispatching his message, he fed himself the last piece of steak.

  Grace cleared her throat, a signal for their collective attention. “It is my hope that before we go back to our daily lives after our family vacation, I’ll have good news to share with you.”

  Verona’s cutlery clattered against the china. “Excuse me, everyone—it’s been a long day. I’ll head up to the room now.” She didn’t wait for Grace’s acknowledgment but, clearly upset, hurried from the room, trailed by her husband.

  Leo turned toward Fiona, whose gaze tracked her mother’s abrupt departure from the dining room. He expected her to follow. She didn’t. Instead Fiona directed her confusion at her grandmother. But Grace either ignored Fiona or didn’t focus on her as she silently communicated with her husband across the table.

  Meanwhile, none of them knew that Leo was the key to unlocking this mystery. His role would open a door for the family that could never be closed again. The depth of his responsibility filled him with unease that Grace was stirring up something that would rock the foundation of her own inner sanctum.

  Yet he wouldn’t be immune from the fallout. His role as the igniter of the explosion likely would do irrevocable damage between Fiona and him. Never in his life had he felt such a burden to do his job.

  No doubt they’d label him an agitator. All he could hope was that Fiona would appreciate what her grandmother was trying to do and understand what her mother had done.

  As for himself, he didn’t hold out much hope. Leo sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. He had to keep his mind on the job and keep the door locked on his feelings that could compromise his duties.

  “Grandma, can you give us a hint?” Belinda chose to be the one to push the matter.

  “No. And stop nagging me or your grandfather.” Despite the scolding, Grace’s tone was surprisingly gentle.

  Henry raised his hand in surrender. “My lips are on lockdown.”

  Dana poked Leo’s thigh. “What about you? Do you have your lips on lockdown?”

  Leo didn’t know if telling the CEO of Meadows Media to be quiet would have soaring repercussions, but he was willing to risk it.

  He leaned over to her, looking straight into her eyes. “Please let me know where you’ll be sitting for the next meal. I want you to enjoy your food in a way that I wasn’t able to do.”

  “Don’t worry—I’ll let dear sweet Fiona have my seat. And I’ll take hers. But warning—I do know how to read lips.”

  “When is Kent coming to the estate? Obviously you need another distraction.” Fiona glared at her younger cousin. “That would be the reason for you to be so annoyingly bratty at dinn
er to our guest.”

  “Well, I...I was just teasing and trying to see what Leo was made of. No need to get all hot and bothered, both of you.” She did look sheepish. “Sorry.”

  Leo nodded but knew better than to think Dana had turned a corner with her behavior toward him. Before his time was over here, he wanted to get to know her, as difficult as it would be. Being on the right side of the cousins had to count in his favor if he entertained the slimmest possibility of a reconciliation with Fiona.

  When the servers appeared in the room to remove dishes, Grace instructed, “You may serve the dessert before these children lose any more self-control.”

  The servers promptly returned with a platter of tiny desserts that they set along the middle of the table. Sugar and spices filled his nostrils with their enticing scents. Mini pies, slices of cakes and small tarts taunted his willpower. The colorful array of treats brought a stop to the bickering. The mood lightened considerably as everyone consumed the desserts and now chatted about the trending news of the day.

  By the time Leo was done, he couldn’t have taken on another meal if one came on a chariot for him. He complimented Grace and the serving staff profusely. Still he didn’t know how he’d suffer under the caloric intake if he stayed here too long. Jogging might have to become part of his daily routine.

  “See you bright and early in the morning, Leo. We’ll get started right away.” Grace turned her attention to Henry. In other words, Leo was dismissed.

  He had to admit that he was glad to escape to the guesthouse. A good meal—yes. His nerves—no. Hanging around the cousins with a possible resumption of Dana’s constant digs wasn’t how he wanted to spend the remainder of the night. And he didn’t know Jesse well enough to suggest another option, like a drink and a game of cards. His best bet was a speedy retreat.

  Before he’d entered this house, his nerves were on edge. Now sitting in the midst of the Meadows family dynamics in full play, he needed some time to himself. Every time he looked up, he couldn’t help but check out Fiona. Sometimes, he wanted her reaction. Sometimes, he simply wanted to look at her. The warm flush over his body wasn’t the appropriate response for watching her eat, admiring her throat as she drank from her glass, or being ready to squirm in his seat as she occasionally dabbed at the corners of her mouth. Maintaining an image of calm took so much effort on his part.

 

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