A Fortune in Waiting

by Michelle Major

  He only wished Francesca would give him more of her time. She’d fit perfectly in his arms last night as they danced, and he’d wanted an excuse to keep her there even longer. Keaton had never been a patient man. Since a young age, he’d been driven to succeed in every aspect of his life, whether in sports or academics or, later, in his career. He could talk a bloody good game about not caring that he’d grown up without a father. Yet the absence of a male role model in his life had influenced the very fiber of his identity.

  Francesca made him feel at peace. He didn’t have to prove anything to her and could solely enjoy her company. He also knew his mother would like her work ethic and the fact that she didn’t seem impressed by Keaton’s famous family or his professional reputation. She genuinely wanted to know him. For once he felt like he might be ready to give a woman more of him than he was normally willing to offer.

  Not too much, of course. He didn’t want to lead her on by allowing her to believe he was the type to settle down. A woman like Francesca would make a fantastic wife and mother. Some man would be lucky to claim her as his own. As much as Keaton’s gut tightened at the thought of another pair of arms holding Francesca, he also understood he could never be the man she needed.

  He brushed aside the maudlin train of his thoughts. It was a coffee date, nothing more. And even if he was no one’s knight in shining armor, they could still have a good time together. Francesca deserved some relaxation and fun more than anyone he’d ever known.

  With another quick check of the time, he moved forward through the campus. Students with backpacks and messenger bags slung over their shoulders hurried along the path that cut through campus. Despite the snowfall last night, today was warm with the sun shining brightly from a cornflower blue sky. The dusting of flurries had melted away and left only damp green grass.

  He saw Francesca before she noticed him. Her hair was down and it pulled him like a beacon through the clusters of students milling about between classes. She was talking to a young man wearing a ubiquitous flannel shirt and sporting a scraggly beard that seemed to be de rigueur for a certain hipster crowd. The guy said something that made Francesca laugh, and jealousy spiked within Keaton. His possessiveness was ridiculous when he had no claim on Francesca. But he wanted to be the one to coax a laugh out of her. There was so much more to the blonde beauty than some punk kid could appreciate.

  He lengthened his stride, suddenly desperate to be at her side. She glanced over her shoulder, as if she could sense his approach. Her smile widened and she quickly excused herself from the conversation and turned to him.

  “Hey,” he said quietly when they were standing toe to toe. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to reach for her.

  She giggled. “My mom always said ‘hay is for horses.’”

  He liked that she was teasing him. It meant her nerves weren’t getting the best of her. He took a step back and bent forward into a deep bow. “Good afternoon, Ms. Harriman,” he said, mimicking the stuffy accent of his upper class friends. “You look quite fine today.”

  “Jeepers,” she murmured, patting her chest with her open palm. “You take my breath away when you talk like that.”

  “What’s a jeeper?” he asked, straightening.

  She laughed again. “It’s just an expression. One that probably gives me away as an unsophisticated small-town girl at heart.” She held up a hand when he would have argued. “Wait, let me try.” She sank into a somewhat off-balance curtsy. “G’day, guvnor.” Her British accent was atrocious and made him grin hugely. “Lovely weather we’re havin’. Right then. Cheerio.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “How’d I do?”

  “You sound like you’ve spent too much time watching Mary Poppins,” he told her with a chuckle.

  She stuck out her tongue. “You can’t do Texas and I’m horrible at a British accent. Looks like we’re stuck being just who we are.”

  “Perfect for me,” he agreed, and she inclined her head toward a path that led away from the center of campus.

  “The coffee shop is this way,” she said and started to move in that direction.

  He stopped her with a hand on her backpack. “Let me carry this for you.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I want to,” he said and noticed she blushed as she removed the backpack and handed it to him.

  “I’ve never had anyone carry my books.”

  “I’m honored to be the first,” he said and they walked together down the tree-lined path.

  Chapter Six

  As Francesca settled in at the table near the front window of the local coffee shop ten minutes later, she touched her well-worn backpack and tried to hide the smile that wanted to bloom at Keaton’s thoughtfulness. She’d had trouble holding back a bark of hysterical laughter when he’d taken her backpack. For years, she’d schlepped duffel bags, equipment and instruments for Lou and his bandmates. Many times it had been Francesca loading up the tour bus while the boys had a few beers after a show with friends or various groupies.

  Most of the guys had been grateful, but Lou had always acted like she should be honored to play the role of unofficial Sherpa. She’d discovered far too late that he’d taken advantage of the time when she was busy working to indulge in random hookups with women who came to the shows.

  She was also embarrassed to admit how long it had been before the demise of their relationship that she and Lou had been intimate. Of course she’d been tested after discovering his infidelity, but the clean bill of health she’d received had only been a small comfort.

  It hadn’t changed the fact that she’d been a fool to let her heart lead when her head had been broadcasting warning signals for years.

  She watched Keaton lean over the pastry case at the coffee shop favored by university students and couldn’t help but notice how the three young coeds working the counter gaped at him. The man was sinfully handsome in his dark gray dress slacks and tailored shirt. As he moved, the fabric stretched across the hard planes of his back, the muscles bunching in a way that made her mouth go dry. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the baristas bite her bottom lip.

  Another kind of heat gripped her chest as she realized she was quickly getting in way over her head with the sexy Brit.

  After Lou’s betrayal, Francesca had sworn off men. At the same time she’d promised herself that when she was ready to dip her foot back into the dating pool, she’d pick a man better suited to her. Keaton was so far out of her league they weren’t even playing the same sport.

  But he’d carried her backpack. He’d called her beautiful.

  She reminded herself that Keaton and Lou had nothing in common, and even if they had, it didn’t matter. She was having fun. Nothing more.

  “Why so serious?” She started as Keaton lowered himself into the seat across from her.

  “Just thinking about a class project that’s due next week,” she lied.

  “Tell me about it,” he said and pushed a plate holding a muffin and two forks to the center of the table.

  “I have to come up with a marketing plan for a business that has the goal of appealing to a broad section of the population. The idea is to develop PR and advertising that will attract a mix of demographics.” That much at least was true. She had the assignment. She drew in a deep breath. “I’ve been working so many shifts at the diner that I haven’t even settled on a business idea yet.”

  “Maybe you can use Austin Commons,” he suggested. “If you want, I can put you in contact with the management company handling the grand opening for Phase One in a couple of months. It would be perfect, because the development is intended to attract a broad segment of the population. It could possibly lead to an internship or a job when you graduate.”

  She stared at him, not knowing quite how to respond.

  “Or,” he said,
making a face, “you can tell me to shut my gob and bugger off.”

  “No, I don’t mean that,” she said quickly. “Although I don’t exactly understand what you just said. But it’s a really nice offer. I’m just not used to accepting help, you know? I’ve learned to take care of myself.” She blew out a small breath. “And most of the people around me. It’s the waitress in me. Sometimes I worry that even with a degree, I won’t know how to do anything but look after people.”

  “I doubt that’s true,” he said, his blue eyes gentle. “But I understand. It’s one of the most difficult things for me about being in America. There is no one in London to take care of my mum.”

  “Does she need a lot of help?”

  He laughed. “Not according to her, and she’d kill me for giving you the impression that she does. She has a close group of mates. But who is going to fix a leaky faucet or repair the furnace when it’s on the fritz?”

  “I think that’s why my mom always has a boyfriend hanging around,” Francesca admitted. “She likes having someone to take care of her.”

  “My mother doesn’t date.”

  The way he said it so matter-of-factly surprised Francesca. She sipped her coffee then asked, “Never?”

  “She was really busy when I was a kid.”

  “And once you grew up?” She took a bite of muffin.

  Keaton opened his mouth then shut it again. She waited for his answer, but he only shook his head.

  “She’s never met anyone?”

  “I guess not,” Keaton said and he sounded as surprised as she felt.

  “Don’t you think she wants a man in her life?”

  “I... She isn’t...” For once, Keaton seemed at a loss for words.

  “It’s difficult to think of our moms as people outside of who they are to us.”

  “She had her heart broken by Gerald Robinson,” he said bluntly.

  “Your father.”

  He shook his head as if he wanted to deny it even now. But after a moment he muttered, “Yes, my father. I don’t think she ever recovered and now it’s too late.”

  He looked so sad as he said the words. She wanted to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders and give him the hug he obviously needed.

  “Is she happy?” she asked instead.

  “I thought so. I think so.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I bloody well hope so.”

  She reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers in hers. “You’d know if she wasn’t. It’s clear how close you are with her. I wish my mom and I were like that.”

  “You’re not?” He traced his thumb over her skin, turning her insides to mush with just that simple touch.

  “We’re different.” Francesca shrugged, unsure how to explain it. “She loves me, but she has a small view of the world and my place in it. I have a steady job at Lola May’s, and my mom thinks I should be happy with that. She doesn’t understand why I’m bothering with college. To her, I’m trying to be better than I am.”

  “Is there something wrong with that?” he asked.

  Francesca blew out a breath. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. My mom loves me. I think she’s afraid I’ll leave her behind if I have a degree and a career. I never knew my father, but he was someone my mom met when she was a hostess at a restaurant in a fancy hotel downtown. He travelled for business, but she didn’t realize that he was already married with kids. Sometimes I think a part of her must have known, but she didn’t want to admit it.”

  “I sometimes wonder how much my mum knew about Gerald Robinson during their short time together,” Keaton said softly.

  She nodded. “My father stopped seeing her before she even realized she was pregnant. He told her he couldn’t take her seriously because she had no ‘potential.’”

  Keaton grimaced. “Ouch.”

  “Yeah, it hurt her badly,” Francesca agreed. “She believed she wasn’t good enough for him, and now she’s afraid the same thing will happen with me. If I reach too far, life will beat me down for thinking I deserve more than what I already have. She acts like I’m trying to take after my father, which is crazy because I never knew him.” She ran a trembling finger along the rim of her coffee cup, needing something to focus on to keep her emotions in check. “Of course, I’d never desert her or leave her behind. She’s my mom.”

  “Are you curious about your dad?” Keaton covered her hand with his. The touch was warm and reassuring. “It sounds like he was never aware you existed.”

  “That’s true,” she admitted. “Once he walked away from my mom, she made the choice not to tell him about me. When I was younger I wanted a dad. It always seemed as though my friends who had both parents struggled less.”

  She looked past his shoulder at the line forming in front of the counter. So many times she’d stared at strangers, trying to find someone who resembled her. She’d had a strange, secret wish as a kid that she’d discover another girl with her same wild hair and that girl’s father would take one look at Francesca and realize she was his daughter. She’d yearned for someone to claim her.

  “It sounds silly, but the thing I wanted the most was to ride on my dad’s shoulders. I always wondered what it would be like to see the world as the tallest person in the room.” She pulled her hand away from his. “It would kill my mom if I ever tried to track him down. With all she sacrificed to raise me, I couldn’t do that to her.”

  “I’m sorry you never had a set of shoulders to carry you.”

  She blinked back an unexpected rush of tears at the tenderness in his voice. Francesca thought she’d come to terms years ago with not having a father. It was something that set her apart from everyone else in her life.

  Even her friends with divorced parents had some relationship with both their mother and father. Francesca’s mom refused to speak the name of the man who had tossed her aside so carelessly. To share the same past with Keaton made their connection stronger than she could have imagined it being in such a short time. “Was it difficult for your mom when the Fortunes found you?”

  He inclined his head and she saw his chest rise and fall as if the question had knocked the wind out of him.

  “No one ever asked me that,” he told her. “Ben was on such a mission to track down Gerald’s illegitimate children once he discovered we were out there. I think the family understood it would be a shock for me, but I doubt they considered what the change would mean for my mother and our relationship.”

  “What did it mean?”

  “It was an adjustment,” he said, flashing a half smile that held no humor.

  “Your lives would have been much different if you’d been Robinsons.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, “but from that standpoint I understand why she never told me. Like your mother, I think mine was scared that she might lose me. The Robinsons were a powerful family with money and connections even before the connection to the Fortunes was revealed. She could have never stopped Gerald if he’d decided he wanted me.” He huffed out a bitter laugh. “Not that he wanted me. Unlike your father, mine knew I was on the way when he abandoned my mother.”

  “But you’re in Austin now. You must have some contact with him?”

  His hands fisted on the table and it was her turn to cover them with her own. This was certainly not the turn she’d expected the conversation to take on a first date, but she wouldn’t change a thing about it. Something told her that despite his friends and his new Fortune family, Keaton felt as alone in the world as she did. She couldn’t help her need to make him understand that wasn’t how it had to be.

  “Not if I can help it,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’ve long ago come to terms with my father’s actions, but I’ll never forgive him for what he did to my mother.”

  Francesca didn’t believe for a minute that Keaton had made peace with
being rejected by Gerald Robinson, no matter what he claimed. “Then it’s good you’ve become close with your half brothers and sisters,” she said, wanting to erase the pain she saw hidden deep in his eyes.

  “I’m grateful for that,” he agreed. He smiled then and the pain was replaced with a brightness that lit up his face. “And that my time in Austin has led me to you.”

  Her breath hitched at the intensity in his gaze. How was she ever going to resist falling for this man?

  * * *

  The following Saturday afternoon, Keaton walked out of the barn at the ranch outside of Austin that his half brother Graham still managed on a part-time basis. He’d just finished grooming the mare he’d taken out for an hour-long trail ride.

  He hadn’t grown up riding horses—that had been a hobby of his wealthier friends with country estates in the pastoral countryside beyond London’s city limits. But since getting to know Graham, who had close ties to the Galloping G ranch, Keaton had discovered a love for Western riding. He didn’t assume that everyone in Texas was an avid horseman, but he wanted to ask Francesca if she’d like to come out for a ride with him.

  Graham had given him access to the barn whenever he wanted and seemed glad for the horses to receive extra attention and exercise. Although he was devoted to the animals, Graham had a lot less time on his hands since being named CEO of Fortune Cosmetics last year. Graham had also found love with Sasha-Marie, the niece of the ranch’s owner, when she’d returned to Austin last year.

  Between the ranch, the cosmetics empire and Sasha and her two daughters to keep him busy, Keaton was surprised to find his half brother waiting for him in the driveway between the barn and the house.