by Dyanne Davis
Harold griped the phone tightly, wishing for a moment it was the throat of his surrogate son.
“Simon, it was you who made the man into an enemy. Now you’re looking for someone to blame. Don’t blame me. I warned you to tell Janice. I even tried to get you not to go digging into her past, but did you listen? Hell no! You’re as stubborn and arrogant as your father. Fire me if that will make you feel better, I don’t care.”
The heated anger from Harold stopped Simon. Harold rarely lost his temper and generally not with him. The comparison to his father meant that Harold was fed up.
“I’m sorry,” Simon said and sighed. “You have no idea what a good time we had. It was what I’ve always known it could be. It was perfect.”
“Then tell her.”
“I will,” Simon said tiredly. “I’m waiting for the right moment.”
“There is no right moment,” Harold admonished him. “You just have to tell her before Tommy Strong does and turns her against you.”
Simon continued talking as though he hadn’t heard Harold. “We finally set a date. We’re getting married in six weeks; she’s going to be my wife. Her family’s coming for a visit in just a week. I want them to have a chance to know me, know that I’m not my grandfather or my great-grandfather. I want them to meet me before they judge me. Then I’ll tell the whole damn world.”
“You only need to tell the woman you’re going to marry.” Harold spoke softer now. He’d never liked being harsh to Simon. Simon felt more like a son to him than an employer. In fact, Harold had been stand in for Simon’s real father when he had been too busy or just plain didn’t give a damn.
He’d been there when Simon had accidentally found out about his family history and he’d been the one to console the boy and assure him that things long dead had nothing to do with him, that it was what he made of his life that was important. And he’d done everything in his power over the years to bury the truth so deeply that it would take someone more determined to hurt Simon than Harold was to protect him to find it.
Harold hadn’t thought such a person existed, but he now believed Tommy Strong to be a strong contender. If only Simon had listened to him and not to his cronies who’d all had a shot or two more than they’d needed of brandy. They’d goaded Simon, telling him he wasn’t much of a businessman if he’d marry a woman without knowing everything there was to know about her. They’d pestered him until it had gotten under his skin and he had to know.
Some of it Harold understood. Janice didn’t mind telling anyone who had ears to hear that she didn’t believe in love. Hell, he’d heard her on more than one occasion say that she would never have given Simon the time of day if he weren’t rich. Of course Simon was right to doubt her; he’d be a fool not to.
But Harold had seen the way the woman’s eyes would light up when she’d see Simon, the way she’d touch her fingers to his face, the gentle way she’d smile at him when his back was turned.
Several times Harold’s gaze had caught hers when he’d found her looking at Simon. Each time she’d turned away, but not before a guilty look crossed her face, then annoyance, as though she didn’t want to love Simon. Harold knew that she did, despite their fights. If he had thought for a moment that one word of what the woman said publicly about love or Simon were true, he would have wasted no time in warning Simon.
For the future happiness of his surrogate son, he would have risked Simon’s wrath and his dismissal. But he knew deep within his being that Janice Lace was the right woman for his Simon. He didn’t doubt that she’d been deeply hurt by Tommy Strong. That, he assumed, was the reason she was afraid of loving Simon.
“Harold, where are you, old man?” Simon asked playfully.
“What?”
“You were daydreaming,” Simon said. “I’ve been talking to you and you haven’t heard a word I said.”
“You’re right, I’ve been thinking, doing a little wool gathering. I’m sorry I compared you to your father.”
Simon swallowed and waited for the but, the one telling him that he’d been acting like a jackass.
“Your father wasn’t a bad man, maybe just a bad father. He didn’t like the family legacy any more than you and he chose to hide it too. Only he did most of his hiding by living the good life, booze, women, cars and planes.”
Both men stopped for a moment, thinking of Simon’s parents dying in a plane crash, a small plane piloted by his father.
“Do you think they were ever happy?” Simon asked.
“Yes, your father was happy the day he married your mother and he was happy the day you were born.”
“What happened to them? I wish I could have seen them happy together.”
“The family legacy. Your mother found out and it tore them apart.”
“She hated him because of it?”
“No, but he thought she did. She hated that he hadn’t trusted her enough to be honest with her. He did what he always did. He ran to other women and she tried to compete. I think for a time she still loved him but…well, maybe it’s just wishful thinking.”
“Harold, is that story true or are you trying to manipulate me into telling Janice?”
“Both,” Harold answered and chuckled. “I wish you luck, son.” Then he hung up the phone, more determined than ever that Tommy Strong would not find information to hurt Simon.
* * *
“Tommy, we can’t keep investigating the man when there is no evidence that he’s done anything. We’ve searched his family history; we can’t find anything. He’s clean.”
“I don’t think so.” Tommy answered. “There has to be something. I can feel it in my gut. The man tries too hard; he’s trying to make up for something.”
“Look, we can’t keep going on your gut. Six more months of this and we’re out. You’re not using the organization to go after someone that you have a grudge against. If we don’t find anything in that time and you still want him investigated, you’re going to have to go it alone. We’re not using the manpower or the money to do it if there’s nothing there.”
“How much were you paid?”
“Excuse me.”
“How much were you paid?” Tommy asked angrily. “Did Simon Kohl pay you off?”
“Go to hell, Tommy.”
The phone slammed in his ear and Tommy saw Neal watching him. He knew what the man was thinking, that he was losing it. He’d been losing it ever since the day Mary Jo Adams had sashayed back into his life.
Chapter Eighteen
Gray skies and fat drops of rain heralded the arrival of Janice’s family. She groaned, wishing there was some way she could get past the visit. She looked toward Simon, who grinned at her.
“It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
“You don’t know my mother. She’s been picking a fight with me for years.”
“Sound like anyone you know? Listen, I’m going to go and help with the luggage.”
“Why? The chauffeur will bring it in.”
“I’m trying to score points with your mom,” Simon answered, rushing out into the rain.
For some reason his action gave her mixed emotions. For all his money Simon was very much a gentleman; her mother would love him. It hit her then how much she really wanted her family to approve of him.
True, she’d vowed that she didn’t care what they thought, but she didn’t want them to hurt his feelings.
It wasn’t the color of Simon’s skin that would bother her mother. She could care less about that. Besides, their family was its own little United Nations. No, the one thing she hadn’t told Simon was that her father was a deacon of the church and her mother would be condemning them both to hell from the moment she stepped through the front door until the moment she left. Well, he’d asked for it, she thought.
“Nice place.”
Janice’s stomach twisted in knots at the sound of her mother’s voice. Nice place indeed. It was a mansion.
“Mary Jo, there you are.” Her mother stood back o
bserving her from head to toe. “I suppose you didn’t come out to the car because you didn’t want to wet your hair.”
Janice ignored the remark and went to kiss her mother. “Hi, Mom.”
“Is that the best you can do? I swear, I hugged that chauffeur tighter than that.”
Janice laughed at her mother. Maybe Simon was right. Maybe she’d actually gotten the tendency to argue from her mother.
“You’re not wasting any time are you, Mom?”
“Have I ever?”
“Not that I can remember,” Janice said, hugging her tighter. Then she saw her father coming in in front of Simon. Smiling, she went to her father and kissed his cheeks, feeling a tightening in her chest. She didn’t realize how much she’d actually missed them. In fact she’d thought she hadn’t.
“Where’s everyone else?” Janice asked, looking for at least one sibling.
“I thought it best just your father and I visit the first time out.”
Janice held her mother’s gaze for a moment, then nodded. “I guess you’ve both met Simon,” she said, and glanced at Simon.
“Yes, we have,” her mother answered for both her and her father. “He’s a real gentleman and doesn’t mind a little rain.”
Simon started laughing and soon they were all laughing, including Janice.
And for the first time in years she enjoyed them. That was until dinner was over and as she’d known would happen, her mother started. For real.
“I’m happy to see you finally in love and getting married,” she said, looking at Janice.
Janice didn’t answer. She glanced at Simon and smiled.
“You are in love, aren’t you?” her mother insisted.
“I’m getting married, Mom. Doesn’t that answer your question?”
“No, it doesn’t answer my question. I had assumed that if you were finally getting married you had to be in love. I’ve been wanting that for you.”
God, why couldn’t her mother stop? And why couldn’t she just say yes? If she admitted to her mother that she loved Simon, her mother would stop.
“Do you love Simon?” her mother asked again, not letting up.
“Why are you being so nosy?”
“Mary Jo,” her father cautioned. “Don’t talk to your mother like that.”
Janice rolled her eyes. She should have known. They were back where they always began, back in her childhood. Did they conveniently forget that she was almost thirty years old? She would be the day she married. That was one of the reasons Simon had chosen that date for them to get married. He was going to be her birthday gift. She’d laughed when he said it.
“What’s the big deal?” her father said, frowning. “Your mother asked a simple question. If you’re not marrying this man for love, maybe you should not be marrying him. Now answer the question.”
Did every man in the world think they were put on earth to control her? She stood, looked her father in the eye and lied. “Simon and I don’t believe in love.” She hoped that would shock both of them enough to make them mind their own business. “That’s not why we’re getting married. We’re adults, we’re not looking for the mush.” She shrugged her shoulders. She barely glanced at Simon, not wanting to see the pain that would be on his face. “Goodnight,” she said. Not waiting for anyone to answer her, Janice ran up the stairs.
* * *
“I thought you said you were going to be good,” Simon said softly. He waited for Janice’s mother to turn to face him.
“Are you in love with Mary Jo, Mr. Kohl?”
“Yes, Mrs. Adams, I am.”
The couple exchanged looks. Then her mother looked at Simon again. “That’s obvious, you can’t keep your eyes or your hands off her.”
“Was it my loving her that you were worried about?” Simon observed the woman as he talked to her. She didn’t appear to have any problems with him being white, neither did the father, but still he wondered why the woman had suddenly and deliberately gone for the one topic that Janice hated to talk about.
He watched as the woman turned toward her husband. When silent communication flashed between the couple, he wondered whether he and Janice would ever achieve that. Would there ever come a time when she would trust him with her innermost thoughts. A deep yearning filled his chest and he wished for that bond with Janice more than anything.
“We weren’t worried about you, Mr. Kohl.”
“Call me Simon. I’m going to be your son-in-law.” Simon smiled. “If you weren’t worried about me, that means you were worried about Janice.”
“Mary Jo.”
“Mary Jo,” Simon mimicked, deciding to go with the flow. He wanted to learn as much about the woman he loved as possible. Now if he didn’t alienate her parents, he might finally get real information.
Carol Adams smiled slowly and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s just that I’ve been waiting an awfully long time to hear my little girl say she was in love. She hasn’t been since…” She held back a sob.
Simon sat quietly waiting, something alerting him that this was what he wanted, what he’d spent thousands of dollars on and still hadn’t found.
“Mary Jo doesn’t like to tell people how she feels about them.”
“I know,” Simon said quietly and caught another look that passed between the couple.
“You’re hurting from that, aren’t you?” Carol Adam asked quietly.
Simon smiled but didn’t answer.
“You don’t have to say it. We’ve been waiting years to hear her tell us again too.” The woman shrugged her shoulders again. “I guess that’s why I try and pick fights with her even though I know I’m going about it in the wrong way. It only turns her off, makes her more standoffish, makes her not come home, not call.”
She tilted her face to look at Simon. “I was surprised that she called a week or so ago. I know it was your doing. Why do you want us here?”
Simon smiled. “I want a family. I want lots of kids. My parents are gone. I want grandparents; you two are going to be that. So I wanted to get to know you. I don’t want our kids to not have that. Everybody needs someone they can count on.”
“Can you count on Mary Jo?” Carol asked.
“She loves me,” Simon said licking his lips. “Listen, I’m not a fool. I wouldn’t be marrying her if I didn’t know that.” Again a look passed between the couple. “Don’t,” he said, “don’t pity me. She loves me.”
“Wouldn’t you like to hear her tell you that?”
“You said you’ve been trying for years.”
“Have you told Mary Jo that you love her?”
He bit his lips softly, narrowing his eyes and looking toward the door Janice had run through. “Yes, even though she didn’t want me to.” He grinned. “Was there ever a time that she didn’t mind saying or hearing the words?” He snapped his head back around, knowing the couple was going to communicate silently again.
Carol shrugged her shoulders. “When she was young.”
“What happened?” Simon asked, his throat closing up, his voice strangely brittle. Hell, what was he doing? He’d always known. There was no doubt in his mind that she’d had no problem telling Tommy Strong that she loved him.
“What did he do to her?” he asked.
“I wish I knew. It was like one day she went to bed this happy girl who would stand toe to toe with the devil and fight to the death. The only person she never fought with was Tommy. I always wished that she would, that she wouldn’t just let him lead her around.”
An uneasy feeling developed in the pit of his stomach and Simon wished he’d never asked. “She never told you what happened?”
“No. All I know is that one day she was Mary Jo, the next she was this Janice Lace person, as different from my baby as day from night. I didn’t know her. In the beginning it was kind of nice that she’d mellowed, that she wasn’t fighting everyone on everything. Then I saw that she wasn’t just learning to control her temper. It was like my baby had died. Ever since I’ve b
een trying to revive her, but nothing I do or say has made a dent.”
“So you fight with her to make her fight back?”
“Yes, but she won’t. She doesn’t fight anymore.”
“That’s not quite true,” Simon said softly, then laughed. “That’s what we do most of the time. You don’t have to worry about her following me around like she adores me.” The last Simon said a bit wistfully.
“Yeah, but I kind of wish she did. I wish she wasn’t so afraid to show her emotions.”
“Did you ever ask Tommy?” Simon asked. The words burned in his throat and he closed his eyes briefly, blinked, then looked straight at the woman.
“Yes, Tommy always said he didn’t know. Actually we’ve seen him more in the past few years than we have our daughter. He always sends us her books when they come out.”
“She doesn’t send them to you?”
“Yes, she sends them.”
“So why does Tommy send them?”
“I guess he just wants us to have them and maybe he thinks Mary Jo won’t send them. I’m not sure. Maybe it’s his way of still feeling close to Mary Jo.”
“Do you think he still loves her?”
“I don’t know. Most of the time he won’t talk about her.”
“When did she change her name?” Simon asked.
“Right after she went through that breakup. She sent us a note saying, ‘I’ve changed my name legally. It’s now Janice Lace.’ ”
Her father cringed and shook his head. “We named her after my mother. It was a slap in the face when she did that.”
“Is that why you disapproved of her writing?”
“We never disapproved of her writing; she just thought we did. We read her books. Yes, there was a lot of sex in them, more than we would have liked to know that she knew about, but we’re not dumb about sex. I mean, look how long we’ve been married.” She looked at her husband. “And we have had a satisfying relationship, haven’t we, honey?”
Joe laughed and his eyes sparked. “The best.”