KIERNAN HANDED HER uncle a tumbler with its finger of brandy and watched him lean back into the sofa and take a sip, lifting his shaggy white eyebrows in approval. They had arrived ten minutes earlier at Kiernan's estate following her thirty-eighth birthday celebration hosted by Stellardyne's senior executives.
She settled into the overstuffed leather recliner across from him. "I love your birthday present." Her uncle had presented her with an oil painting of Deer Falls, which was located on the estate grounds. She studied the massive, natural stone fireplace where a painting of the Southern Appalachians in autumn now hung. "I'm going to hang it right above the mantel."
Surprise widened Theodore's eyes. "You mean you're going to remove the Jean Henriksen? It's been hanging over the mantel since Shanna built this place."
"It's about time for a change of scenery don't you think? I'll hang the Henriksen in my study." She took a sip of her brandy before asking, "How did you manage to sneak the artist up here and I knew nothing about it?"
"Security arranged all the details. The artist came up here on the days you were at the office."
With a gentle motion of her wrist, Kiernan swirled the tumbler she held, watching as the amber liquid formed a vortex. She took another sip of brandy, shutting her eyes, as the fatigue of the day caught up to her.
"Kiernan, don't fall asleep. There's something we need to discuss."
Startled, she opened her eyes, focusing them on her uncle. "This sounds like something serious."
"It is." Taking another sip of brandy, and placing the tumbler on the end table, he sent Kiernan a shrewd look. "You're thirty-eight years old and forty will be here before you know it."
"Uh oh, after my past five birthdays, I should know where you're heading with this. You're about to give me the traditional birthday speech."
Theodore guffawed. "I can give you the traditional birthday spanking instead."
"Let me think about which one I'd prefer."
"Kiernan, this is serious. You're not married, and you have no offspring. You're running out of time. You have two years to find a wife and produce an heir."
She pressed her lips together for a moment in exasperation. "I know, Uncle, but I haven't met anyone I'm willing to commit to--and certainly not marry. And those I've met, they're not exactly wife material, or mother material."
"What was wrong with Millicent Tyler? I talked to her father, Vincent Tyler, last Thursday, and he says Millicent is still upset that you broke up with her."
"Ha! Upset my ass. It's not even been a month and she's sunning herself on some beach in Italy with that pop diva--what's her name--Lady Killer, and I guarantee you she's shedding no tears. Millicent--"
Her Uncle's loud laugh interrupted her. After a few seconds, he wiped his eyes and said, "Kiernan, dear, it's Lady Keela, not Lady Killer."
"Close enough. Millicent isn't the brightest star in the heavens, and I want an intelligent daughter. I also want a wife who'll stay home and nurture her, not a wife who wants to flit from party to party leaving her in the care of a nanny." Kiernan recalled the three months she dated Millicent. The conversations revolved around Millicent repeating the latest gossip, what party they should attend, fashion, and where she could spend her parents' money. Why Kiernan put up with Millicent for three months, she didn't know. Even the sex became boring after a few weeks.
"That Conrad girl, what's her name, Joyce? She's intelligent, a law degree from Harvard, and is a senior partner at Bernhardt and Bernhardt. She could easily handle her case work from home."
Screwing up her mouth to show her distaste, Kiernan said, "I do not want to come home after a grueling day and listen to her discuss the latest tax laws over dinner."
"She's a family and marriage lawyer."
"That's even worse, since I certainly don't want to discuss who's divorcing whom and how they're trying their damnedest to screw each other over the settlement. Besides, she has a strong resemblance to last year's Kentucky Derby winner." Feeling a bit sheepish about this last remark, she hastily added, "Not that looks are that important."
"You could have fooled me. I've never seen you with a woman who wasn't considered attractive." He snapped his fingers. "I know. Kimberly Montgomery. She's now single."
"I never liked her for some reason, and she belongs to Millicent's little set of cliquey friends. In fact, almost every available woman I know runs with Millicent. If I didn't know any better, I would think Millicent was cloning herself." A cloud of frustration settled on her features. "God, why are all the available women in my social group so--so--you know what I'm saying?"
"I know exactly what you mean. Perhaps you should consider finding a nice woman from a different social class. See how well it's worked out for me and Jack?"
Kiernan swept a hand through the right side of her hair, flipping it off her shoulder, while considering her uncle's words. She liked her uncle's partner, Jack Spivik, and thought he was a good match. From a blue-collar background, even though he married into wealth, Jack continued to work. Stellardyne had hired him twenty-three years earlier to head the security department, and soon after, he caught Theodore's eye. Thirty years separated their ages, but things worked out, and they were devoted to each other. "Too bad Jack doesn't have a sister--one who likes women and is under the age of forty."
"There is a lot at stake here. With full control of Stellardyne, you can take the company in the direction you want to go. That won't happen unless you carry out Shanna's stipulations."
Kiernan's grandmother, Theodore's older sister, Shanna Kiernan O'Shay, built Crestview Estate some sixty years earlier on three thousand acres of mountaintop property skirting the Cherokee National Forest and Ocoee River.
Shanna O'Shay founded Stellardyne, which rapidly became the leading designer and manufacturer of the freighter and transport spacecraft that plied the solar system between Earth, the Martian colonies, and the mining colonies on Jupiter's moons.
It took a generous sip of brandy for Kiernan to quell the sudden twinge of anger toward her grandmother, who had died of a massive stroke seven years earlier at the age of 102. "God! What Grandmother was thinking when she made that idiotic stipulation in her will, I'll never know. It's so antiquated and reeks of arranged marriages. Not even royalty engages in that practice anymore." Frowning, she muttered, "Senile old harridan."
"Face it Kiernan, you were out of control, reckless. You caused her many sleepless nights. She thought if you settled down and had a family you'd learn responsibility."
Kiernan had to agree with her uncle's words. After her graduation from Harvard she led a reckless lifestyle, spending seven years racing flitters, the tiny, one-person space racers. She indulged in fast living, attending a different party almost every weekend in Asia, Europe, and all places in between, including the Martian colonies. Then there were various affairs, often involving the wives of diplomats, heads of states, and royalty. She was fortunate some irate husband or wife hadn't killed her or had her assassinated.
"Grandmother certainly didn't have room to pass judgment.
She was no saint by any stretch of the imagination. She never bothered to marry Grandfather Markos. I think she never forgave me for that affair with the Brazilian President's wife, and blames me because the Brazilian freighter deal fell through. She wanted revenge for that as well as not being able to control my life. Now she's reaching out from wherever she is--Hell most likely--to control it." She paused, before adding defensively, "And I'll have you know I'm responsible now. Stellardyne's profits have skyrocketed since I became president."
"Yes, and Shanna would be proud of you."
Kiernan suppressed her sardonic reply. She had hired the best lawyers to research contesting her grandmother's will, but that would open up the strong possibility the will could linger for years in the courts. If she wanted all of Stellardyne under her control, not just the forty-five percent she inherited, she had no choice but to adhere to the stipulation in her Grandmother's will to marry and produ
ce an heir by her fortieth birthday.
"You know, I could go along with marrying and producing an heir, if I could do it all within a year and divorce. That I could probably endure. It's the part where I remain married for at least five years and reside with my spouse that I find detestable. Grandmother really knew how to twist the knife."
"Kiernan, she loved you. Besides the responsibility, I think she wanted you to find the same happiness Maureen found with Nicole. You were all she had left after they died."
"If you say so. If Mother Maureen had lived and taken over Stellardyne, we'd be well on our way to the stars by now." Sighing sadly, she recalled the day both her mothers, Maureen and Nicole, died en route to the Martian colonies to celebrate their fifteenth wedding anniversary. For no apparent reason, the shields failed on the spaceship, and a stray meteor tore through the engine room triggering a massive explosion. With Maureen's death, Kiernan was left at age thirteen the only heir to Stellardyne and to her grandmother's massive fortune.
Before her grandmother's death she held a position at Stellardyne overseeing two departments, and preparing to take over the reins. She admitted she performed only the basic requirements so she could spend most of her time playing.
All that changed when her grandmother died. Kiernan had the chance to make her dream come true to build light-speed spacecraft capable of reaching the stars, which was something Shanna was never interested in doing, owing to the unproven technology.
Forty-five percent control of the company wouldn't allow Kiernan to fulfill her dream. Ten of the stodgiest old men and women in the solar system held the other fifty-five percent in a trust. Except for Uncle Theodore, who was the only member of the trust backing her plans, they had no confidence in her vision.
After draining her tumbler, she said, "Well, Uncle, any suggestions of where I might acquire a wife. A suitable one?"
Theodore pursed his lips for a second, his eyes reflecting a sly gleam. "As a matter of fact, I may have the perfect candidate for you. She's beautiful, intelligent, articulate. Did I say beautiful?"
"Oh, no! In no way, shape or form do I want you to select a wife for me."
"Why, I have you know I've excellent taste!"
"I agree you do when it comes to fashion, furnishings, and handsome young men." She snorted dismissively. "But women are out of your field of expertise. No thanks. I'll pay a consultant who specializes in finding spouses, if that's what it takes."
"You mean a matchmaker? That's almost as antiquated as Shanna's stipulation."
"It's not that kind of matchmaker. These days a professional with a degree in psychology matches you up with a potential mate. God knows what kind of mate you would pick."
"O ye of little faith." He rose, reaching inside his coat, and handed over a four-by-six-inch digital notebook with a flourish. "Take your time going over this, my dear, and let me know Monday what you think. I'm wagering you'll find out I have excellent taste in women." He leaned over, kissed her cheek, and made his exit.
She popped up out of her chair and called after his retreating back, "Uncle, what kind of mischief are you up to? I'll do my own spouse picking without your interference, thank you kindly." He took a swat with his cane at one of the beetle-like vacuuming robots that didn't move out of his way fast enough. "Uncle, don't hit my bot!" Ignoring her, he continued on his way.
After settling back into her chair, she put the leg rest up for more comfort and flipped open the notebook thinking that her uncle's selection was probably some heifer that favored a drag queen or was so hideous she'd have to work longer hours so she wouldn't have to come home.
As soon as she activated the notebook, a three-dimensional image of a young woman appeared on the screen. Her heart stopped for a second, and she couldn't stop her mouth from dropping open or the feeling of delighted surprise. "Oh! My! God!"
KIERNAN WAS MARKING an area in an electronic departmental report when her secretary announced over the deskcom, "Ms. O'Shay, Mr. O'Shay is here to see you."
"Send him in, Kelly." She knew the reason for her uncle's visit this morning.
Schooling her features to placidity, she peered toward the door as her uncle entered with a jaunty saunter and a decidedly smug manner.
He stopped, threw her a satisfied smirk, lifted his brow, and drawled, "Well?"
Still maintaining her placid expression, she innocently asked, "Well, what?"
"You'll have to admit I do have excellent taste when it comes to selecting brides." He settled into the leather chair in front of Kiernan's desk, placing his cane between his knees.
"I'll admit in this instance you do possess excellent taste in women, and I was quite impressed with the information you presented me. She's intelligent, extremely so--summa cum laude from MIT and a PhD in physics. She's healthy, and, she's responsible."
Kiernan had been impressed that Ariel Thorsen took on the responsibility of helping her mother after her father's death. Not many young people would make that sacrifice, and in Kiernan's mind, it meant Ms. Thorsen would take her responsibilities seriously as a wife of someone of Kiernan's standing.
"And she's beautiful. I'm sure you didn't notice though." He pretended to flick a piece of lint from the arm of his jacket.
"Yes, and beautiful. Perhaps younger than I would like. You know, trophy wife."
"Trophy wife?" Theodore said amused, "I'd hardly call her that since you're only around thirteen years older than she is. And, if people got that impression--" He shrugged. "They'd be envious."
"Perhaps. But I'm buying her, so to speak." She said pointedly, "This must never leak out. The media would have a feeding frenzy."
"I can't see that happening. I won't say a word, not even to Jack."
"How did you find her? Was it through her mother?"
"I suppose in a roundabout way you could say that. She was on her way to Stellardyne when her motorcycle broke down, and I provided her a ride. She made quite an impression on me. And, you've read the information on her."
"I would like to meet her as soon as you can arrange it. But before I do, you and I need to discuss what the negotiation points will be so we can work up the prenuptial agreement."
"God, Kiernan, where is the romantic in you? You make this sound like nothing more than a business arrangement."
"It is nothing more than a business arrangement. I need a wife and someone to bear an heir. Romance has nothing to do with it. And romance, I'm sure, will play no part in this agreement. Another thing--I'm curious as to why she'd agree to this. I know money would be a motive to many people, but reading her background information, she has a career and earns a decent salary. She's not in debt, and she doesn't strike me as a material girl or a gold digger."
Theodore shifted uneasily in his seat, tapping his finger on the knob of his cane. "I--ah--haven't approached her with any of this."
"What? How did you gather the information on her? Including medical history for her and her family?" Suddenly, realization struck. Widening her eyes, she put her palms up in denial. "Oh no, Uncle, you paid someone to--to--do something illegal. There are laws on the book that could have you serving some serious jail time."
"Let me explain, my dear. I wanted to know your opinion before I approached her with the particulars. You know, have you scope her out."
Leveling a pointed stare at her uncle, her voice hardened. "Did you hire someone to obtain information on her and hack her medical files?"
"Yes. I can't see you agreeing to carry a child--"
"Ha! You're right about that."
"So, I wanted to know if there were any problems in that area and if her medical records and those of her family indicated any hereditary anomalies. She and her family are remarkably healthy, and their genetic profiles are free of any flags for genetic disorders." Confidence emerged on Theodore's face, and his tone of voice was now one of satisfaction. "The fusion of your DNA with hers will produce an exceptionally intelligent, and, I'm sure, beautiful daughter. I'm eagerly awaiting be
ing a great-great uncle."
Kiernan didn't like her uncle's information-gathering methods. Hacking into a person's data guaranteed a mandatory prison sentence and a hefty fine. She leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, and narrowed her eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing, I assure you."
His guileless manner triggered a warning alarm in Kiernan's mind. Pinning him with a piercing stare, she lowered her voice to a deadly register. "You're hiding something else. I would advise you to tell me what it is."
Theodore hesitated, and Kiernan saw him deliberately smooth his features before he nonchalantly said, "She has a girlfriend."
Anger flushed her cheeks, and she glared at her uncle.
He continued, "Nothing serious, I'm sure, since they've only dated around three months."
"Nothing serious? For all you know they're engaged and have their china and silverware patterns selected and invitations to their wedding printed."
"They don't even live together and see each other only two times a week, three at most. They're more friends than anything else, going out to dinner, taking in a movie--that kind of thing."
"You had her followed and spied on, didn't you?"
Theodore assumed a shocked expression, somehow managing to sound outraged. "Of course I did. You are, after all, one of the wealthiest and most powerful people in the solar system, the force behind the most lucrative and growing business in the world. You need to know whether she's hiding anything or engaging in any harmful or embarrassing activities that could reflect badly on you, or Stellardyne. With whom she associates, what she does on her free time--"
A soft sigh of disappointment escaped Kiernan. She realized this woman was probably out of reach. After all she'd read, along with the pictures she'd viewed, she was almost convinced Ariel Thorsen would make an excellent wife and meet all expectations. Kiernan stood, pushing her chair back. At the side bar she poured a shot of brandy, all the while keeping her back to her uncle.
"Kiernan, don't worry. I'll arrange things, and you'll meet her soon. Things will work out."
The Dreamer, Her Angel and the Stars Page 2