The Heiress

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Grace pivoted to face him. “For all of us, yes, I would,” she replied resolutely. Looking deep into his eyes, she continued softly, maternally, “I want you to be able to love Daisy the way she deserves to be loved by her biological father, Tom. I want her to feel a part of her Deveraux sister and brothers’ lives, and to be a real integral part of all family gatherings. And most of all, I want us all to be a family again.”

  “I’d like that,” Tom said. He stood, too, aware he had never felt so relieved or at peace as he was at that moment. He continued in a rusty-sounding voice, “You reaching out to Daisy this way—” your forgiving me my transgressions “—means the world to me, Grace.”

  Grace closed the distance between them. Abruptly, her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. “But is it enough?” Grace countered softly, emotionally.

  “What do you mean?” Tom asked, almost afraid to hope for more than what he had just been given.

  Grace gripped his hands hard and searched his eyes. “Can the two of us start fresh, too?”

  HERE IT WAS, Grace thought as Tom stared at her in silent apprehension. The fifty-thousand-dollar question. The one she had been thinking about for weeks and not had the courage to voice for fear she would be rejected. She swallowed hard, and knowing it was now or never, pressed on, “I want us to be friends, Tom. More than friends.”

  Because he didn’t look opposed to the idea, she forced herself to continue in a low, quavering voice before she could lose her nerve. “My affair with Paulo was a mistake. I realize that now. Because I didn’t love him. I was just using his interest in me to try and feel better about myself, about getting fired because I was suddenly too old to attract the right demographics for Rise and Shine, America! When the truth is—” Grace paused and hung her head “—the last thing I should have been doing was making a fool of myself over a much younger man.”

  Not surprisingly, Grace noted, Tom didn’t argue that point.

  Nor did he try to extricate himself from the tight grip she had on both his hands.

  “I’m not cut out for casual sex or an affair,” Grace continued. “I know that now.”

  This time Tom did pull away from her. “But it happened, Grace.”

  Grace’s heart was pounding so hard she could hear it. “And…?’

  “Like I told you,” Tom said, raking a hand through his hair, “I’m not sure I can forget. Especially after the way I misinterpreted things after you got fired, when you came back to Charleston, for good this time.” Tom shook his head grimly, recalling. “I thought your asking me to pick you up at the airport, the fact you wanted us both to stay at the house, instead of one of us going to a hotel, meant that you wanted a reconciliation, Grace.”

  Grace released a quavering breath. “I did,” she declared emotionally.

  Tom looked at Grace and corrected her sternly, “Until Daisy came into the picture again with the news she was going to be looking for her real parents, and stirred the fires of your jealousy and resentment again. Then everything went all to hell.” Tom looked completely defeated. “I can’t keep going through that, Grace. And I don’t think you can, either.”

  Grace rushed forward urgently, not aware until that very moment how very much she wanted Tom back in her life again—and not just as an ex or a friend. “Which is why I’m determined to befriend Daisy the way I would any family member through marriage. Look, I know my jealousy and resentment has been a problem in the past,” she confessed guiltily.

  His frustration with her apparent, Tom abruptly dropped his hands to his sides. “An understatement if I ever heard one.”

  “But that was before I knew firsthand how meaningless a tryst, with the wrong person, embarked upon for all the wrong reasons, could be. Now, having actually done it myself, I know how little value something like that has.” She knew it had caused her nothing but grief. And all the mere dating she had done during her years in New York had not brought her any emotional satisfaction, either.

  “Well, that much is true,” Tom sighed, conceding reluctantly as he jerked loose the knot of his tie. “I have no romantic feelings for Iris.”

  If her years on her own and subsequent affair with Paulo had taught her anything, it was that she was never going to love any man the way she loved Tom. Maybe they would always have problems, Grace admitted practically. Maybe she would always disappoint him in bed and never be able to overcome her secret frigidity. But there was more to life than lovemaking. “So can’t we move on?” Grace asked plaintively. “Try again, just one more time?” Grace was sure they could be happy again if Tom just gave them a chance to really move on this time and forgive each other their mistakes.

  “I don’t know,” Tom returned seriously, looking every bit as hesitant as he was tempted. “There’s a part of me, Grace, that wants that more than anything. And there’s another part that says we’ve already hurt each other way too much.”

  TO SAVE MONEY and allow more of the proceeds of the five-hundred-dollar-a-plate picnic dinner to go to the charity, the Protect the Children annual fund-raiser was being held in a local elementary school in lieu of a hotel ballroom. The evening had a summer-camp theme. Gingham-covered picnic tables had been set up around the gymnasium. Bunches of wildflowers in galvanized buckets served as centerpieces. The waitstaff was dressed in camp counselor uniforms. And the fare being set up on the buffet tables included barbecued chicken, potato salad, corn on the cob, watermelon and cup-cakes. Dozens of balloons clung to the gymnasium ceiling, and large murals, painted by the abused children the charity helped, decorated all the walls. A small group of musicians from the Charleston symphony were performing favorite childhood tunes onstage. At the far end of the gym, in the atrium just outside the doors that separated the gym from the principal’s office, Daisy was setting up lights for the picture taking that would occur during the second half of the gala evening, while Jack put up the large background screen.

  “Is this okay?” he asked.

  “I think it should be pushed back a little farther against the wall,” Daisy said. She waited while Jack made the adjustment. “Yeah. That’s good.” She measured the distance from the tripod to the screen. Turning, it was all Daisy could do to contain a beleaguered sigh as she came face-to-face with three members of the Templeton family—Richard, Charlotte and Iris—all of whom were dressed for a “picnic” à la Martha Stewart Living.

  “You’re embarrassing the family again,” Richard said, looking as well put together as always. “I want you to come away from there right now, Daisy.”

  “I can’t.” Trying not to show her hurt at her father’s lack of support for her efforts to establish herself in her chosen career, Daisy went back to setting up her camera. “I’ve been hired to take photos of all the guests tonight who want them, in exchange for supporting this very worthy cause. They’ll make a nice party favor, so if you and Mother would like to be first,” she offered as graciously as she was able.

  Charlotte moved in closer, nervously fiddling with one of the pearl buttons on her tailored pastel-green sheath dress and matching jacket. Trying to smooth things over, she leaned forward and whispered helpfully, “Daisy, someone else could do this. You and Jack should be guests at this function not hired workers.”

  Iris sipped her mint julep and backed up Richard and Charlotte. “If you really want to begin a business like this, Daisy, you’ve got to do it in a top-drawer way. You can’t lower yourself to take routine photos like this.” Iris waved at the area disparagingly and regarded Daisy as if despairing over her lack of business sense. “You’ve got to be exclusive, sought after.”

  “And broke?” Daisy couldn’t resist adding dryly. There was such a thing as letting your pride go before the fall. Not to mention drive you nuts with boredom.

  “We could underwrite a studio for you in a prestigious location,” Richard said, looking increasingly irritated.

  Charlotte nodded vigorously, leaping to help. “I’ll call my decorator in the morning.”

&nbs
p; “Thanks, but no thanks.” Daisy held up a silencing hand. “I’d prefer to do this on my own.”

  “Isn’t this like old times,” Bucky Jerome drawled as he came up. He had a camera slung around his neck, a notepad and pen in his hand, and was obviously covering the event for the newspaper.

  Bucky picked up one of Daisy’s business cards, shoved it into the pocket of his shirt and gave her a sympathetic wink that spoke volumes about what he thought her family was doing to her with their lack of support. “Way cool, Daisy Waizy,” he told her with a friendly smile that took Daisy back a few years to the time when the two of them had gotten along.

  Daisy regarded Bucky, one up-and-coming professional to another. She didn’t need Bucky Jerome’s approval but she did appreciate the genuine nature of his respect. “Thanks, Bucky,” Daisy said quietly.

  He stepped back, a mischievous grin creasing his face. “Say cheese!” Bucky ordered, then took what had to be another very bad photo of Daisy, Jack and her family in front of the photo booth. Daisy rolled her eyes. She could imagine what that was going to look like if it made the society page.

  “I’ll make a mention you were working here tonight,” Bucky told Daisy before he ambled off.

  “I’d appreciate that,” Daisy said.

  “Well, the rest of the family wouldn’t,” Richard interjected unhappily. He looked at Jack for help. “Legally, can we stop Bucky from printing anything about this in the paper?”

  “Right,” Daisy said. “You wouldn’t want anyone to see me caught working.”

  Richard, Charlotte and Iris glared at Daisy, un-amused.

  In response to Richard’s question, Jack shook his head. “You don’t need to sign a release for this sort of thing. Daisy is working here. Bucky’s reporting that because he’s covering the event. Period.”

  Charlotte put a hand to her forehead as if she felt one of her famous migraines coming on, the kind that in Daisy’s youth had occasionally sent her to bed for days.

  Richard glanced into the gymnasium, where Bucky was busy taking photos and chatting it up with other guests. “That boy is a nuisance,” Richard grumbled.

  “He’s not a boy, Father.” Daisy found herself in the odd position of defending her high-school boyfriend in front of her current husband. “And he’s just doing his job.” Like I’m trying to do mine.

  Richard looked at Jack. “You’re an attorney! Can’t you do something about this to keep Bucky Jerome away from our family?”

  Jack shrugged. “You could try to get a restraining order, but first you’d have to demonstrate how Bucky has harmed your family and remains a threat, and I don’t see that as the case,” Jack replied with an honesty neither Richard nor Charlotte appreciated.

  “Well, we’ll see about that.” Richard walked off in a huff, Charlotte right behind him. That left Iris standing there with Daisy and Jack.

  “Listen, Daisy, Father is right about this.” Iris continued the campaign where their parents had left off. “Bucky is being a major pest. Can’t you get him to back off?”

  Daisy wrinkled her nose at Iris, perplexed. “What do you mean? I don’t have any influence with Bucky.”

  “Yes, you do. He’s still got a wild crush on you. If you asked him sweetly to back off and leave our family alone, he would.” Iris glanced at Jack, who was looking disgruntled. “Sorry, Jack, but it’s true. Feminine wiles work. And it’s high time Daisy realized that.”

  “Listen, Iris, I know Bucky is a pest, but he has a right to be working this event, same as I do. Besides, experience has demonstrated that if I ignore him long enough he’ll eventually go away and bother someone else.” It was when Daisy let Bucky—or guys like him—know they were annoying the hell out of her that they kept coming back for more.

  Looking all the more aggravated, Iris took Daisy by the arm and guided her down to the far end of the hall, well out of earshot of others. Ignoring Jack, who had tagged along and was standing sentry between the two Templeton women and anyone who might want to interrupt, Iris continued bluntly, “Don’t you understand what Bucky is trying to do? He’s trying to create scandal where there is none!”

  Daisy studied the woman who had given birth to her and then denied it for twenty-three years. “You just don’t want people digging around in your life for fear they’ll uncover your affair with Tom that led to me.”

  Iris stiffened. “It’s a lot more complicated than that.”

  “Is it?” Daisy wondered out loud. “Tom and Grace are pretty popular people in this town. Friends could feel they had to take sides in what still amounts to a pretty ugly situation. And Grace has a lot more star power than you do, especially with the new TV show she’s taping here.”

  Iris sniffed. “Like it or not, Daisy, the prosperity of our family business depends on the respect and goodwill of our customers. I’m not going to be poor again.”

  Daisy lifted her eyes to the ceiling and scoffed. “You were never poor.”

  “The entire time I was growing up we were broke, Daisy. Leveraged to the hilt. If I hadn’t married Randolph when I did and brought his money into our family, we would have been out on the streets in a matter of weeks. As it was, it took five years to pay off all the creditors, and another ten to put Templeton’s Fine Antiques solidly in the black.”

  Daisy stared at Iris in shock. She had always suspected Iris had married the old goat for his money—what other reason could there have been, Randolph Hayes IV hadn’t exactly been Prince Charming. But she hadn’t known the straits had been that dire—the pressure on Iris so intense—she’d thought Richard and Charlotte had been the ones who had put Templeton’s Fine Antiques back in the black! Yet, just talking about it, Iris looked and acted panicked. “So you sold your self-respect and solved all your problems,” Daisy surmised grimly, sure about the decision she would have made in the same position—the opposite one!

  Iris folded her arms in front of her. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Then how was it?” Daisy persisted angrily, really wanting to know.

  “I did what I had to do for the sake of this family,” Iris insisted.

  Like Scarlett O’Hara after the Civil War, Daisy thought, her exasperation growing by leaps and bounds.

  “And now I’m expecting you to do the same,” Iris continued sternly.

  Stepping closer to Jack, Daisy linked her arm through his. Smiling insolently to cover her hurt, Daisy quipped humorlessly, “Too late. I’ve got Jack here as my hubby. And although he’s not rich, he’s very kind. And very loving.” Which was more than Daisy could remember about the old goat when he had been alive.

  Iris’s eyes flashed with anger. “Daisy, please, this once cooperate with me. I don’t want Bucky Jerome to hurt you. I’m afraid he will, given the slightest opportunity.”

  “Don’t worry.” Daisy clung to her husband all the more. “Jack’s a lawyer, in addition to being my husband. He and I have already talked about it,” Daisy fibbed, “and he has promised me that he will help me with any and all legal problems that come up. Including those with Bucky or the family or anything potentially troubling in any way, so you don’t need to worry, okay? Everything’s going to be fine. I promise you. All you have to do, Iris, is chill.”

  “SHE SEEMED UPSET,” Jack said as Iris walked off to mingle with the rest of the guests.

  “Yeah, she was,” Daisy agreed as she and Jack walked back to her camera. “They all are. They’re so concerned about their precious reputations. And of course—” Daisy sighed her exasperation, trying not to notice how handsome Jack looked in the casual navy sport coat, creased khakis and light-blue shirt “—Bucky Jerome knows that, which makes it easier for him to get back at them.”

  Jack leaned against the wall, arms folded in front of him, while Daisy put out the pens and forms for people to fill out so she could match the photos with the proper names and addresses. “Why would Bucky want to get back at them?” he asked.

  Daisy straightened the stack of her business cards, too.
“Because they never approved of my relationship with him when we were dating back in high school.”

  “Because he was a troublemaker,” Jack guessed, his eyes roving her upswept hair.

  “I don’t think that would have mattered had Bucky been rich enough, but he wasn’t.”

  Jack’s sandy eyebrow furrowed. “His family owns the newspaper.”

  “As well as several other small weeklies, in little towns scattered around the state, but that’s it,” Daisy countered, embarrassed to admit how incredibly snobbish and fortune-minded her adoptive parents née grandparents were. “Adlai Jerome is no Rupert Murdoch. And that’s the kind of wealth they wanted to see me bring into the family. You know. Blue blood is one thing, but blue blood with millions or billions…well, now, that’s a catch. They wanted me to make a fortuitous match, and they saw Bucky as standing in the way of that.”

  Jack’s eyes hardened with the depth of his understanding. “What did you want back then?” he asked softly.

  Funny, Daisy thought. Jack was the first person who had ever asked her that. “To be happy,” she replied, looking deep into his eyes. “To be loved and accepted for who I am not who people wished I was.” Daisy turned away, adding, “The usual things… The same thing I want now.”

  Her senses rioting at Jack’s nearness, Daisy waved at the event organizer, who had come out into the atrium and was pointing impatiently at her watch. Daisy nodded back, signaling she was indeed ready to go. She pivoted to Jack, a ready smile on her face. “Come on. I’ve got to get people lining up for photos. Or I really will be in trouble.”

  Jack stroked her arm. “We can talk about this more later if you want.”

  Daisy shook her head. She didn’t want to examine her past or Iris’s, or the expectations placed upon them both by Richard and Charlotte as they were growing up. And she certainly didn’t want to talk about how those same unreasonable familial demands had driven Iris into Tom Deveraux’s arms. Because Daisy knew what she would find in the end. No matter what Tom’s DNA tests proved, Iris and Tom Deveraux would never publicly acknowledge Daisy as their child. They would never make her feel better about having been given up. Instead, she was, and would remain, a source of family embarrassment and shame.