Forbes answered the door and informed them their parents were expecting them in the living room.
“Is Morgan here?” Phillip asked in a too-casual tone. None of them wanted their youngest sister present for what would have to be discussed.
“No, Mr. Phillip. Your sister has gone to the beach with friends.”
“Good.” Everyone relaxed.
Seth opened the living room door and stood aside for Stacey and Mason to precede him. As she walked past her brother, he whispered, “Chin up.”
Stacey smiled slightly and did just that. She was tired of groveling to win favor from her parents, her mother in particular. As she glanced at her father’s massive frame, she wondered sometimes exactly who was the boss in this family. Alexander Barlow-Barrett seemed, all too often, to simply allow his wife to run roughshod over their children. Yet, she’d seen him in action at Barrett Newspapers. He was not a man to sit idly by and allow events to simply happen. He wanted a hand in them. She pinned her hopes on that aspect of his character.
Her mother was the first to speak. “Was it really necessary to drag your brothers into this…this sordid mess?”
Before she could reply, Seth had lifted something from a side table. It was a business card with information scribbled onto it. “Already had a visitor today?”
“What do you mean?” Stacey asked, a knot forming in her stomach. Mason slid an arm around her waist, drawing her closer to him.
He flicked the card to Phillip, who snagged it and pursed his lips as he looked at what was written on it. “Looks to me like we’re going to need to do another arm-twisting session with Mr. Winchester.”
Brandon snorted. “Why don’t we call the cops? We have plenty of evidence.”
“Stacey wants this kept out of the press,” Mason reminded them, “for the sake of your family, though personally, I see little reason for her concern.”
Patricia Barlow-Barrett glared at him. “And what exactly would you know with regard to family, Mr. Hatch? Do you think we didn’t have you checked out the moment those disgusting photographs surfaced? Why do you think we were so anxious for Stacey to accept Jason’s generous offer? We would have done almost anything to prevent her association with you.”
“That’s enough.” Stacey startled herself by stepping forward and speaking. “It might surprise you to know, Mother, Jason was the one who took those pictures. He was the one who sent them, who blackmailed you for money at the same time he was making his ‘offer.’”
“Those are terrible allegations to make against your husband.”
“He admitted it to me.”
Her mother’s smile was condescending. “You’re hardly a credible witness. Jason told us…”
“Mother,” Seth said quietly, “I had hoped we could hold off on this conversation until after dinner, but I’m afraid at least some of it must take place now. Phillip, do you have the pictures handy that were taken at the hospital? Before I listen to another word in support of Winchester, I want both you and Father to take a look.”
Phillip set his briefcase on the coffee table and extracted a manila envelope, which he handed to his father. Stacey held her breath while he opened the envelope and pulled out the files. This was the moment she was counting on. She leaned into Mason, feeling his silent support as he rested his hands on her arms and gently squeezed. For as outspoken as he normally was, she was amazed at the control he was exerting now in not ripping into her mother, in particular. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and felt his lips brush her hair.
Her father’s face flushed as he looked at the photos, passing them to her mother one at a time. “He told us you’d fallen…” he murmured as though to himself. “But I’ve seen enough pictures of abused women over the years.”
Phillip handed Stacey a handkerchief. “Show them your arms, Stacey.”
She took off the short matching jacket to her dress. When she turned around to face her parents, she saw doubt in their expressions, but this time it wasn’t her word they questioned, but Jace’s.
Her father looked at his sons, at Mason and finally at her. “From what I saw and what I read, I believe you’re right. We should eat dinner first, then we’ll take this into my study to discuss. I take it you have additional evidence?”
“We do,” Phillip responded. “You also have the man here who found her and got her to the hospital.”
Right now, the only acknowledgement her father was willing to give was a curt nod, but that would do. It was at least an acknowledgement that Mason was more than wallpaper.
“Under the circumstances,” her father said quietly, “I suggest we forego the before dinner drinks and simply proceed to the dining room. We can do coffee and something stronger in my study afterward.”
* * * *
Mason cupped Stacey’s elbow as he followed the others to the dining room. Her mother was right concerning one thing–Mason didn’t know anything when it came to families like this one. He’d been in several foster homes as a kid, and none were as cold and dysfunctional as this family appeared to be.
He regarded Stacey in an entirely new light. That she and her siblings had turned out as normal as they had said more for them as individuals than it did for any parenting skills on the part of Patricia and Alexander Barlow-Barrett.
“Don’t stare at them as if they are bugs,” Stacey whispered as they approached the table.
“They aren’t?” he murmured in return, drawing a hastily stifled giggle from her. Glancing around, he found her mother’s eyes boring into him. Mason dusted an imaginary piece of lint from his lapel and smiled at Stacey’s mother. In his years on the streets and now working with clients, he had met people–men and women–who did their best to intimidate anyone they felt was beneath their notice. Mason was immune.
He had come a long way since he’d had to do things he’d rather forget just to get a meal, so dining at a table set with Wedgwood China and Waterford Crystal was nothing new. Nor was the fact the walls were hung with original and collectible art anything to inspire awe, although he had to admit, he wouldn’t mind making an offer to purchase some of it for his own collection.
“Forbes mentioned Morgan is at the beach,” Phillip said, obviously trying to get some sort of conversation going that would span only neutral territory. “Is she sailing?”
“She went with some friends from the club. They’re spending the weekend on the yacht.”
Brandon chuckled. “I hope you reminded her she’ll need to take her nose out of whatever book she’s reading so she can pay attention to where she’s sailing.”
“Give her a break,” Stacey murmured. “She’s the best female sailor in this family.”
“Give yourself a break,” Mason said. “You do pretty well when you have a decent crew.” He looked over at Brandon. “Like me.”
“Is that a challenge, Hatch?” Brandon inquired, one brow arching.
“You sail?” Stacey’s father asked, turning his first thorough look on Mason.
“Yes, I do,” Mason told him. “In fact, Brandon and I were often on competing crews at Harvard.”
Now, even Patricia gave him an intent look. Mason wanted to laugh.
“You attended Harvard?” she inquired.
He smiled. “Strictly scholarship, and what it didn’t cover, I had to. In fact, that’s how I got started sailing.”
“He’s good, Dad,” Brandon told his father. “If he weren’t such a shark in the art world, I’m sure he’d be captaining some well-funded racing vessel.”
The conversation on sailing continued, and Mason was relieved to see Stacey settle down and finally eat some of her meal instead of simply shoving the food around the plate. As dessert was served, though, her hand tightened on her spoon. They would be heading back into dangerous territory soon. Even as he thought that, Patricia dabbed her lips on her napkin, set it aside and stood.
“Shall we?”
There was no doubt who the queen of this castle was, but Mason w
as damned if he’d let anyone else mistreat Stacey. He held her chair for her, then tucked her hand through his arm. As everyone else went ahead, he pulled her to the side of the doorway.
“Mason!” she squeaked. “What are you doing?”
“Reminding you there’s more to life than this house and your parents’ opinions.” He tilted his head and brushed his lips across hers. When she responded, he tugged her closer and deepened the kiss, only breaking it off when he heard someone clear their throat. Seth regarded them with raised brows.
“I hate to interrupt, but I would like to get this over with so I can get back to my wife and child. Haunting these palatial surroundings isn’t exactly my first choice of places I want to be.”
“Sorry, man,” Mason said. “I can see your point there. Just wanted to remind Stacey what matters.”
She straightened the green jacket and sheath she wore and raised her chin. “You’re right. Let’s get this over with.”
She had come a long way from the woman who’d flashed a diamond in his face and told him she was engaged to another man. Mason had the feeling this might be a Stacey he would have to get to know all over again as he watched her step into her father’s study.
On the surface, her parents appeared unruffled, her mother asking Forbes to bring a coffee tray in and Alexander checking to see what everyone preferred in the way of after-dinner drinks. Mason was in with the rest of the men, preferring bourbon. Patricia shook her head, and Stacey requested sherry. As he observed her father, Mason noticed his hand wasn’t quite steady. It would seem he, at least, had not already made up his mind.
Once everyone had glasses in hand, Alexander sat on the couch next to his wife and looked at Phillip. “I’d like to see what you have in terms of hard evidence against Winchester.”
Stacey sat in a chair not far from her father. Mason leaned against the side of the upholstered wing, resting his arm along it as Phillip sat at the other end of the coffee table, briefcase once more in front of him.
“I think it would be best if I walk you through this as we go along,” Phillip told his parents. “Some of what I have I would strongly advise you not to look at unless you feel it’s absolutely necessary for you to get things straight in your own mind.”
He set an envelope on the table. “These are the originals of the pictures you were sent two or so years ago. Do you still have the copies along with the note asking for money?”
Alexander nodded and his wife looked at him with shock. “You told me you were going to destroy them.”
“They’re in the safe. I thought it prudent to keep them in case something arose in the future…as indeed it has.”
“As Stacey told you, Jace admitted to taking the original photographs of Stacey and Mason as well as sending the note demanding money. In addition, when she sought to leave an untenable marriage situation, he threatened her yet again with releasing the photos.”
Pulling out a small, digital tape recorder, he played the message Winchester had left on Stacey’s cell phone. When it was finished, her father’s face was pale with anger, and her mother finally showed doubt.
“You’ve seen the photos from the hospital,” Phillip said quietly. “I’d like you to read the report.”
Stacey was trembling. Mason leaned down and took the sherry glass from her hand.
“Why don’t you step outside on the terrace with me and let your brothers go through some of this?”
The face she turned to him made him even more determined to get her outside. As brave a front as she might be putting on, she was still only a few days out from a major trauma. Holding their glasses in one hand, he extended his other, careful to keep his expression neutral as everyone turned toward them.
“Stacey and I are going to step outside so you can go through this with your parents, Phillip. I see no reason for her to relive it. If you need me to add anything, we’ll be on the terrace.”
He didn’t ask permission, nor would he ever. While Mason would be as polite as he could be to Stacey’s mother and father, he laid a lot of the blame for what had transpired squarely at their door. As far as he was concerned, his job now was to look out for Stacey–whatever it took. He hoped it would not lead to any more distance between her and her parents, but if that happened then so be it.
As they stepped out the French doors onto the terrace running the length of the house, Mason handed her glass to her.
“You all right?”
She downed the sherry in one swallow, then brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. “I’ll make it. I think hearing Jace’s voice actually making a threat to go public with the pictures might have had the biggest effect so far.”
Mason stared out at the rolling hills behind the Barlow-Barrett mansion and gritted his teeth in anger. No child should have to go to this length reliving such an experience simply so her parents would believe what she said. Curiosity ate at him.
“Your father seemed inclined to believe you from the very beginning. So what’s with your mother?”
Stacey walked over to the balustrade, running her palm along the smooth stone. “Jace’s mother is her best friend. The two of them were ecstatic when he took me to prom. You can imagine how the pressure grew exponentially when he proposed–coincidentally at the same time a mysterious blackmailer was threatening to publish nude photos of me with you. As far as Mother was concerned, everything had worked perfectly.”
“Why does your father tolerate it?”
Stacey turned around and leaned against the railing. “I’ve asked myself that question a lot. You know, he infuriated her last year when he actually attended my niece’s christening.”
“Seth’s daughter?” Mason asked, a bit confused.
“Anna’s. Becca was born a year and half ago–and five months before she married the baby’s father. You can imagine how well that went over in our household.”
Mason snorted. “I keep expecting to see some family chapel with a shrine to the Pope. I mean, your parents kind of wear the whole Catholicism thing on their sleeves.”
Stacey looked at him sideways. “You know she offered to have the priest meet with Jace and me.”
Mason scowled. “When you talked to her on the phone?”
“Yup. I’m hoping Phillip will explain the whole annulment issue. That should make this situation somewhat more palatable. I know in her eyes divorce would put me beyond redemption.”
Mason shook his head. “At the risk of being irreverent, I would simply like to see her face when it’s finally made plain to her Jace’s lover is another man.”
Stacey shuddered, and Mason pulled her into his arms.
“Sorry, honey.”
“That’s all right.” She leaned back a bit to look at him. “Is this finally over? Are we finally at a point where we can be together?”
He touched the end of her nose with his finger. “Wiggle your nose and wish it so. I have the feeling your brother will make it happen far faster than anyone else could. He’s a bit of a bulldog. I don’t think I’d like to have him on the other side of a legal battle.”
Stacey snuggled closer. “I suspect he won’t be in the courtroom too much longer. He’s made noise as long as I can remember that he intends to go into politics, and made damn sure to stay squeaky clean so he can.”
Mason arched a brow. “How squeaky clean?”
Stacey laughed. “He barely even dates.”
“Wow.”
A creak of wood against wood alerted them to the doors opening behind them. “We’re through, Stacey,” Brandon informed them, sticking his head out the doors. “Phillip’s explained what you want to do.”
When they stepped back into the room, Mason kept his arm around Stacey’s waist. Patricia Barlow-Barrett sat like a statue on the couch, her face pale beneath her make-up, while Alexander stood near the fireplace, a scowl darkening his patrician features. When he spotted Stacey, he crossed the room and extended his hands to her. Mason felt her tremble before she left his arm
s to go to her father.
“We owe you an apology, Stacey. We owe you a hell of a lot more, but we’ll start with the apology. Phillip’s outlined what you’ve demanded of Winchester, and we’ll support whatever it is you want to do. But I must tell you, I would be more than willing to pursue him to the full extent the law allows. What he did to you…” His eyes shifted for a moment to Mason. “And to Mason is inexcusable.”
Stacey wrapped her arms around her father and laid her head against his chest. The older man’s expression looked pained for a moment before he hugged her to him.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
Chapter 14
Mason was quiet as he unlocked the door. He’d been that way the whole trip back to his apartment. As he shut the door and relocked it, Stacey took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to tap dance around any man’s moodiness anymore.
“What’s wrong, Mason? You’ve been like a wall of disapproval since before we left my parents’ house.”
“Your mother. She never apologized. Jesus, Stacey, she never even hugged you! I know I’m not exactly the poster child for family feeling, but I’ve had more warmth from foster parents who were absolutely no relation to me.”
“It’s the way she is, Mason. The fact an apology came from either one of them is nothing short of a miracle.”
“I have to tell you, I’m freaking amazed any of you are as normal as you are. I’d thought so earlier, but what I saw after we went back inside only solidified that idea. Nothing seems to warm your mother, and your father only unbent when we were discussing sailing.”
She kicked off her heels and wiggled her toes in the thick pile of the large living room rug. “They’ve always been that way, particularly Mother. Her focus has always been on putting Daddy first. Everything revolved around him and the family’s image.” Stacey curled on the end of the couch while Mason continued to pace.
“She would have made a kick-ass press agent for someone, but it seemed to me, honey, she could have unbent enough to give you a hug and at least say you were right concerning Winchester.”
Broken Heart Page 18