by Douglas, Michelle; Gordon, Lucy; Pembroke, Sophie; Hardy, Kate
‘Not a flake,’ Helena said, teasing out a slight tangle. ‘Just...uncertain.’
‘“Decisionally challenged”, Dad says.’
Helena laughed. ‘That’s not true. You had a perfectly good reason not to marry those guys.’
‘Because it turned out one was an idiot who wanted my money and the other was cheating on me?’ And she hadn’t seen it, either time, until it had been almost too late. Hadn’t realised until it had been right in front of her that she couldn’t be enough of a lover or a woman for one of them, or human enough to be worth more than hard cash to the other. Never valuable enough in her own right just to be loved.
‘Because you didn’t love them.’ Helena put down the brush. ‘Which makes me wonder again why exactly you’re marrying Flynn.’
Thea looked away from the mirror. ‘We’ll be good together. He’s steady, sensible, gentle. He’ll make a great husband and father. Our families will finally be one, just like everyone always wanted them to be. It’s good for the business, good for our parents, and good for us. This time I know exactly what I’m signing up for. That’s how I know that I’ve made the right decision.’
This time. This one time. After a lifetime of bad ones, Thea knew that this decision had to stick. This was the one that would give her a proper family again, and a place within it. Flynn needed her—needed the legitimacy she gave him. Thea was well aware of the irony: he needed her Morrison bloodline to cement his chances of inheriting the company, while she needed him, the adopted Ashton son, to earn back her place in her own family.
It was messed up, yes. But at least they’d get to be messed up together.
Helena didn’t say anything for a long moment. Was she thinking about all the other times Thea had got it wrong? Not just with men, but with everything...with Helena. That one bad decision that Helena still had to live with the memory of every day?
But when she glanced back at her sister’s reflection Helena gave her a bright smile and said, ‘You’d better get downstairs for cocktails. And I’d better go and find my pewter shoes. I’ll meet you down there, okay?’
Thea nodded, and Helena paused in the doorway.
‘Thea? Maybe he just wanted to see you again. Get some closure—that sort of thing.’
As the door swung shut behind her sister Thea wished she was right. That Zeke was ready to move on, at last, from all the slights and the bitterness that had driven him away and kept him gone for so long. Maybe things would never be as they were when they were kids, but perhaps they could find a new family dynamic—one that suited them all.
And it all started with her wedding.
Taking a deep breath, Thea headed down to face her family, old and new, and welcome the prodigal son home again. Whether he liked it or not.
* * *
It was far too hot to be wearing a dinner jacket. Whose stupid idea was this, anyway? Oh, that was right. His father’s.
Figured.
Zeke made his way down the stairs towards the front lounge and, hopefully, alcohol, torn between the impulse to rush and get it over with, or hold back and put it off for as long as possible. What exactly was his father hoping to prove by this dinner?
Zeke couldn’t shake the feeling that Flynn’s sudden burst of brotherly love might not be the only reason he’d been invited back to the fold for the occasion. Perhaps he’d better stick to just the one cocktail. If his father had an ulterior motive for wanting him there, Zeke needed to be sober when he found out what it was. Then he could merrily thwart whatever plan his dad had cooked up, stand up beside Flynn at this ridiculously fake wedding, and head off into the sunset again. Easy.
He hadn’t rushed, but Zeke was still only the second person to make it to the cocktail cabinet. The first, perhaps unsurprisingly, was Thomas Morrison. The old man had always liked a martini before dinner, but as his gaze rose to study Zeke his mouth tightened and Zeke got the odd impression that Thea’s dad had been waiting for him.
‘Zeke.’ Thomas held out a filled cocktail glass. ‘So you made it, then.’
Wary, Zeke took the drink. ‘You sound disappointed by that, sir.’
‘I can’t be the only person surprised to see you back.’
Zeke thought of Thea, standing in nothing but the underwear she’d bought for his brother, staring at him as if he’d returned from the dead. Was that really how she thought of him? In the back of his mind he supposed he’d always thought he would come back. When he was ready. When he’d proved himself. When he was enough. The wedding had just forced his hand a bit.
‘I like to think I’m a pleasant surprise,’ Zeke said.
Thomas sipped his martini and Zeke felt obliged to follow suit. He wished he hadn’t; Thomas clearly liked his drinks a certain way—paint-stripper-strong. He put the glass down on the cocktail bar.
‘Well, I think that depends,’ Thomas said. ‘On whether you plan to break your mother’s heart again.’
Zeke blinked. ‘She didn’t seem that heartbroken to me.’ In fact when she’d greeted him on his arrival she’d seemed positively unflustered. As if he was just one more guest she had to play the perfect hostess to.
‘You never did know your mother.’ Thomas shook his head.
‘But you did.’ It wasn’t a new thought. The two families had always been a touch too close, lived a little too much in each other’s pockets. And after his wife’s death...well, it hadn’t been just Thomas’s daughters that Zeke’s mother had seemed to want to look after.
‘We’re old friends, boy. Just like your father and I.’
Was that all? If it was a lie, it was one they’d all been telling themselves for so long now it almost seemed true.
‘And I was there for both of them when you abandoned them. I don’t think any of us want to go through that again.’
Maybe eight years had warped the old man’s memory. No way had his father been in the least bit bothered by his disappearing act—hell, it was probably what he’d wanted. Why else would he have picked Flynn over him to take on the role of his right-hand man at Morrison-Ashton? Except Zeke knew why—even if he didn’t understand it. He had heard his father’s twisted reasoning from the man’s own lips. That was why he’d left.
But he couldn’t help but wonder if Zeke leaving hadn’t been Ezekiel Senior’s plan all along. If he’d wanted him to go out in the world and make something of himself. If so, that was exactly what Zeke had done.
But not for his father. For himself.
‘So, you think I should stick around this time?’ Zeke asked, even though he had no intention of doing so. Once he knew what his father was up to he’d be gone again. Back to his own life and his own achievements. Once he’d proved his point.
‘I think that if you plan to leave again you don’t want to get too close while you’re here.’
The old man’s steely gaze locked on to Zeke’s, and suddenly Zeke knew this wasn’t about his father, or even his mother.
This was about Thea.
Right on cue they heard footsteps on the stairs, and Zeke turned to see Thea in the doorway, beautiful in a peacock-blue gown that left her shoulders bare, with her dark hair pinned back from her face and her bright eyes sharp.
Thomas clapped him on the shoulder and said, ‘Welcome home, Zeke.’ But the look he shot at Thea left Zeke in no doubt of the words he left unsaid. Just don’t stay too long.
* * *
The air in the lounge felt too heavy, too tightly pressed around the stilted conversation between the three of them—until Helena breezed in wearing the beautiful pewter shoes that had been a perfect match for her dress all along. She fixed drinks, chatting and smiling all the way, and as she pressed another martini into their father’s hand some of the tension seemed to drop and Thea found she could breathe properly again.
At least until she let h
er eyes settle on Zeke. Maybe that was the problem. If she could just keep her eyes closed and not see the boy she remembered loving, or the man he’d turned into, she’d be just fine. But the way he stood there, utterly relaxed and unconcerned, his suit outlining a body that had grown up along with the boy, she wanted to know him. Wanted to explore the differences. To find out exactly who he was now, just for this moment in time, before he left again.
Stop it. Engaged to his brother, remember?
Flynn arrived moments later, his mother clutching his arm, and suddenly things felt almost easy. Flynn and Helena both had that way about them; they could step into a room and make it better. They knew how to settle people, how to make them relax and smile even when there were a million things to be fretting about.
Flynn had always been that way, Thea remembered. Always the calm centre of the family, offset by Zeke’s spinning wild brilliance—and frustration. For Helena it had come later.
Through their whole childhood Thea had been the responsible eldest child, the sensible one, at least when people were looking. And all the while Helena had thrown tantrums and caused chaos. Until Thea had messed up and resigned her role. Somehow Helena had seemed to grow to fill it, even as Isabella had taken over the job of mother, wife and hostess that Thea had been deemed unsuitable for. If it hadn’t been for her role at the company, Thea wondered sometimes if they’d have bothered keeping her around at all. They certainly hadn’t seemed to need her. At least not until Flynn needed a bride with an appropriate bloodline.
‘Are we ready to go through for dinner?’ Isabella asked the room at large. ‘My husband will be joining us shortly. He just has a little business to finish up.’
What business was more important than this? Hadn’t Ezekiel insisted on this huge welcome home feast for his prodigal son? The least he could do was show up and be part of it. Thea wanted nothing more than for Zeke to disappear back to wherever he’d been for eight years, and she was still there.
Thea glanced up at Zeke and found him already watching her, eyebrows raised and expression amused. He slid in alongside her as they walked through to dinner.
‘Offended on my behalf by my father’s tardiness?’ he asked. ‘It’s sweet, but quite unnecessary. The whole evening might be a lot more pleasant if he doesn’t join us.’
‘I wasn’t...it just seemed a little rude, that’s all.’
‘Rude. Of course.’
He offered his arm for her to hold, but Thea ignored it. The last thing she needed was to actually touch Zeke in that suit.
‘That’s why your face was doing that righteously indignant thing.’
Thea stared at him. ‘“Righteously indignant thing”?’
‘Yeah. Where you frown and your nose wrinkles up and your mouth goes all stern and disapproving.’
‘I...I didn’t know I did that.’
Zeke laughed, and up ahead Helena turned back to look at them. ‘You’ve always done it,’ he said. ‘Usually when someone’s being mean about me. Or Flynn, or Helena. It’s cute. But like I said, in this case unnecessary.’
Thea scowled, then tried to make her face look as neutral as possible. Never mind her traitorous thoughts—apparently now she had to worry about unconscious overprotective facial expressions, too.
There were only six of them for dinner—seven if Ezekiel managed to join them—and they clustered around one end of the monstrously large dining table. Her father took the head, with Isabella at his side and Flynn next to her. Which left Thea sandwiched between Zeke and her father, with Helena on Zeke’s other side, opposite Flynn. Thea couldn’t help but think place cards might have been a good idea. Maybe she could have set hers in the kitchen, away from everybody...
They’d already made it through the starter before Ezekiel finally arrived. Thea bit her lip as he entered. Would he follow the unspoken boy-girl rule and sit next to Helena? But, no, he moved straight to Flynn’s side and, with barely an acknowledgement of Zeke’s presence in the room, started talking business with his eldest son.
Thea snuck a glance at Zeke, who continued to play with his soup as if he hadn’t noticed his father’s entrance.
‘Did he already welcome you back?’ Thea asked. But she knew Ezekiel Senior had been locked in his temporary office all day, so the chances were slim.
Zeke gave her a lopsided smile. ‘You know my father. Work first.’
Why was she surprised? Ezekiel Ashton had always been the same.
‘Well, if he’s not going to ask you, I will.’ Shifting in her seat to face him a little, Thea put on her best interested face. ‘So, Zeke... What have you been up to the last eight years?’
‘You don’t know?’ Zeke asked, eyebrows raised. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be in charge of PR and marketing for the company? I’d have thought it was your business to keep on top of what your competitors are up to.’
Too late Thea realised the trap she’d walked straight into. ‘Oh, I know about your business life,’ she said airily. ‘Who doesn’t? You set up a company purposely to rival the family business—presumably out of spite. It’s the kind of thing the media loves to talk about. But, really, compared to Morrison-Ashton This Minute is hardly considered a serious competitor. More a tiny fish.’
‘Beside your shark?’ Zeke reached for his wine glass. ‘I can see that. But This Minute wasn’t ever intended to be a massive media conglomerate. Big companies can’t move fast enough for me.’
That made sense. Zeke had never been one for sitting in meetings and waiting for approval on things he wanted to get done. But according to industry gossip even his instant response news website and app This Minute wasn’t enough to hold his attention any more.
‘I heard you were getting ready to sell.’
‘Did you, now?’ Zeke turned his attention across the table, to where his father and Flynn were still deep in conversation. ‘That explains a lot.’
‘Like?’
‘Like why my father added his own personal request that I attend to my wedding invitation. He wants to talk about This Minute.’
So that was why he was back. Nothing to do with her, or Flynn, or the wedding. Not that she’d really thought it was, but still the knowledge sat heavily in her chest. ‘You think he wants to buy it?’
‘He’s your CEO. What do you think?’
It would make sense, Thea had to admit. Their own twenty-four-hour news channels couldn’t keep up with the fast response times of internet sites. Buying up This Minute would be cheaper in the long run than developing their own version. And it would bring Zeke back into the family fold...
‘Yes, I think he does.’
‘Guess we’ll find out,’ Zeke said. ‘If he ever deigns to speak to me.’
‘What would you do?’ Thea asked as the maid cleared their plates and topped up their wine glasses. ‘Would you stay with This Minute?’ It was hard to imagine Zeke coming back to work for Morrison-Ashton, even on his own terms. And if he did he’d be there, in her building, every day...
‘No.’ Zeke’s response was firm. ‘I’m ready to do something new.’ He grinned. ‘In fact, I want to do it all over again.’
‘Start a new business? Why? Why not just enjoy your success for a while?’
‘Like your father?’ Zeke nodded at the head of the table, where Thomas was laughing at something Isabella had said.
Thea shook her head. ‘My dad was never a businessman—you know that. He provided the money, sat on the board...’
‘And left the actual work to my father.’ He held up a hand before Thea could object. ‘I know, I know. Neither one of them could have done it without the other. Hasn’t that always been the legend? They each brought something vital to the table.’
‘It worked,’ Thea pointed out.
‘And now you and Flynn are ready to take it into the next generation. Bri
ng the families together. Spawn the one true heir.’
Thea looked away. ‘You need to stop talking about my wedding like this.’
‘Why? It’s business, isn’t it?’
‘It’s also my future. The rest of my life—and my children’s.’ That shut him up for a moment, unexpectedly. Thea took advantage of the brief silence to bring the conversation back round to the question he’d so neatly avoided. ‘So, you didn’t tell me. Why start up another new business?’
Zeke settled back in his chair, the thin stem of his wine glass resting between his fingers. ‘I guess it’s the challenge. The chance to take something that doesn’t even exist yet, build it up and make it fantastic. Make it mine.’
It sounded exciting. Fresh and fun and everything else Zeke seemed to think it would be. But it also sounded to Thea as if Zeke was reaching for something more than just a successful business venture. Something he might never be able to touch, however hard he tried.
‘You want to be a success,’ she said slowly. ‘But, Zeke, you’ve already succeeded. And you still want more. How will you know when you’ve done enough?’
Zeke turned to look at her, his dark eyes more serious than she’d ever seen them. ‘I’ll know it when I get there.’
But Thea was very afraid that he wouldn’t.
CHAPTER THREE
SO NOW HE KNEW. Had Thea told his dad about the rumours, Zeke wondered, or had the old goat had his own spies on the lookout? Either way, his presence in Italy that week suddenly made a lot more sense. Ezekiel Senior wanted This Minute.
And Zeke had absolutely no intention of giving it to him.
As the rest of the guests enjoyed their dessert Zeke left his spoon on the tablecloth and studied his father across the table. How would he couch it? Would he make it sound as if he was doing Zeke a favour? Or would he—heaven forbid—actually admit that Zeke had achieved something pretty great without the backing of Morrison-Ashton? He’d have to wait to find out.