His Inherited Wife

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His Inherited Wife Page 3

by Barbara McMahon


  The late August afternoon was breezy with wisps of high, cool fog drifting in from the ocean. Quite a change from the heat and muggy humidity of Washington. Standing on the sidewalk outside the hotel a short time later, Shannon was glad she’d been in San Francisco in summer before. She knew to bring a jacket. The days were incredibly beautiful, but the evenings could turn chilly in a hurry when the fog rolled in from the Pacific.

  When Jase’s car swooped to the curb, the doorman opened the door for her and she slid in. Jase still wore the pants and sports jacket he’d had on earlier. She settled in, hoping her casual attire would fit in wherever they went.

  “There’s a small place on the wharf that caters more to locals than the tourists. Their clam chowder is great, and they always have catch of the day,” he said as he headed for Fisherman’s Wharf.

  “Sounds good. I want some sourdough bread, too,” she said, remembering how much she loved San Francisco’s famous bread.

  “A must, of course,” he said.

  She slowly let out her breath. Maybe the evening would be okay. He didn’t seem as antagonistic as he had been at the airport. She’d try to imagine they were just two friends going to eat together, not reluctant partners who had issues they may not be able to fully resolve.

  “I’m interested in what Dean had to say, but let’s save that until after we order,” Jase suggested.

  “Fine with me. How long have you had this car?”

  “A couple of years. Not much good if I want to carry more than one person, but I love it on the hills. When I take a drive along the coast, I put down the top and feel the wind whipping by,” Jase said with enthusiasm.

  “I’d love that,” she said, picturing him speeding along the coast highway, the ocean on one side, the wind in his hair. She knew he’d handle the speed with confidence and competency, like he handled everything else.

  “I’ll take you with me one day,” he murmured.

  “Oh, I wasn’t fishing for an invitation,” she said, wondering if she’d have to watch her words every minute around him.

  “I know. It’s fun, though. You might like it.”

  What if I start to like you? she wondered silently. For some reason she wanted to keep their relationship purely business. She was again experiencing that fluttering. She felt nervous, unsure of herself. For heaven’s sake, she was a grown woman, too old and sophisticated to feel giddy being around a sexy man.

  And Jase was definitely sexy. His eyes had that bedroom look that made her think of rumpled sheets and slow jazz. He moved with a grace not often seen in men, silent and sleek. It came from his Special Forces training, she knew. Still, it had a curious effect on her equilibrium. He seemed like the perfect loner, a man any woman would find a challenge to entice.

  Not that Shannon thought about that! At least not since her first few days at Morris and Pembrooke, when Jase still worked in the Washington office and she’d had a brief crush on the younger partner.

  She gazed at the facades of the piers along the Embarcadero, trying to not to think about Jase and how he’d always affected her. Even happily married to Alan, there was always something that disturbed her senses when Jason Pembrooke was around.

  She had to get hold of her imagination. He was just a guy, her partner for at least the next year. There would be nothing else between them. How could there be? She still loved Alan.

  “How are you holding up?” Jason asked. “I should have helped close the D.C. office, but the Sand’s situation almost blew up in our faces and I needed to be here.”

  “I’m fine. I guess I’ll always miss Alan.”

  “He died too young,” Jase said. He reached the multilevel parking structure near the Wharf and slipped into the short line.

  Shannon nodded.

  “You two never had kids. Didn’t you want any?” he asked casually as they inched along.

  “We talked about it last winter. I did want children, but Alan said he wasn’t ready. He’d already been given the diagnosis then, of course, though I didn’t learn that until much later. I wish I’d pushed harder. Maybe he would have told me sooner.”

  “Or me. I never suspected,” he said. “He was my best friend, and I never even suspected.”

  Shannon looked at him, surprised by the anguish in his voice. She had known Alan had loved Jason like a brother—more, actually, than he’d liked Dean. But she hadn’t realized it had gone so strongly both ways.

  Impulsively she reached out and touched his arm. “We’ll both miss him for a long time, I think,” she said softly.

  He shrugged off her touch.

  Shannon pulled back her hand and gazed out the window. So much for trying to establish a rapport with the man.

  The restaurant was small and comfortably full, not crowded. They didn’t have to wait for a table.

  Once they’d ordered, Jase looked at her.

  “So tell me about Dean,” he invited.

  “He called to say he’d had the trust accounts audited. His brother has only been dead two months and he’s already auditing accounts? The man is warped.”

  “I’ve always thought so. He resents you.”

  “I know. Alan knew it, too.” She toyed with her water glass, wondering if she dare trust Jase. But if she wanted to gain his trust in her, she needed to offer her own. “Dean may have some cause,” she continued slowly, looking at him, trying to judge how he would take her revelation.

  “About?”

  “You know the terms of the trust? The income goes to the heirs. Once they die, the income stops. There is nothing there for widows or widowers of the direct heirs. There is for any children the couple may have had as they would carry on the Morris line.”

  “So if you’d had children, they would have continued to receive money?” Jase asked.

  “Right. Alan knew the minute he died the money stopped and I’d get nothing. The trust owned our home even. So once he got the news from the doctor, he began drawing down a bit more each month to put in savings for me. It’s not a lot, but it does give me a small cushion against an emergency. I can earn what I need, but it’s nice to have that little bit just in case.”

  “I’m surprised Alan didn’t do more,” Jase said slowly.

  “What money he had, apart from the trust, he invested in Morris and Pembrooke,” she said. “What I’m worried about is if Dean can sue me for the extra money Alan took from the trust for me. Alan was entitled to it, as I understand how the trust worked. But I don’t know all the terms of the trust. Since he didn’t actually use the money himself, but put it into a savings account in my name, could that be in violation of the rules? What do you think?”

  “Dean may try, but unless Alan changed substantially, he wouldn’t have put you in that position. He was the cautious one in the partnership, remember? He had to know whatever he was doing was within the terms and limits of the trust.”

  She nodded, relieved. Jase was right—Alan had always made sure things went the way they should, never taking extraordinary risks, or venturing into shady areas. If he thought it was legitimate, it would have been.

  “I hoped I’d seen the last of Dean the other day when he came to the house for the key. I’m sure he changed the locks that very afternoon,” she said wryly.

  Jase frowned. “The man has no tact.”

  “He couldn’t wait for me to be gone.”

  “What happens to the house now?”

  “Good question. Dean and Elaine have their own place, so they didn’t want to live in Alan’s house themselves. It’ll probably just sit there empty until one of their sons is old enough to have a house of his own.”

  “Dean’s a fool. He should have let you stay there in exchange for keeping it up. But it’s not our problem. If he calls you again, tell him to talk to me,” Jase said.

  “I can handle my own life,” Shannon said sharply. She hadn’t told Jase in order to get him to take over.

  He looked at her, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. “Then if you ever
feel you can’t handle Dean, send him my way. I’d love to settle things with him on Alan’s behalf.”

  Shannon wondered what he’d say or do to put Dean in his place. She’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation!

  “I have a shortlist of available apartments,” Shannon said, changing the subject. She took the paper from her bag and handed it to Jase. “Tell me which ones you think I should investigate. I don’t know neighborhoods in the city yet and don’t want to bother visiting any that wouldn’t be a good choice.”

  He began to look through the list. The waiter delivered their clam chowder as he was scanning the addresses.

  Shannon took a small spoonful. It was hot, but delicious. Stirring it slowly, she waited impatiently for it to cool.

  He tossed her the list. “The only one I’d say was suitable is the one in North Point. It’s close enough to work so that you could walk on fine days, and yet it’s on public transportation for rainy days.”

  She looked at the list again. “It’s the most expensive one here,” she said.

  “Because it’s in a nice area and close to downtown. The others aren’t the best neighborhoods, especially after dark. If you plan to work as needed, you’ll be going home after dark sometimes. Especially in winter.”

  Jase began to eat his chowder, wondering how much Shannon could afford to spend on an apartment. He’d already made the decision to increase her salary as befitted a partner in the firm, which Shannon would need now that she no longer had access to the trust. In fact, she should have already brought up the subject. Maybe he’d just wait until she did.

  He watched her take dainty spoonfuls of soup. Her hair flowed around her face, brushing her shoulders. The light brown had surprising highlights of gold which caught in the light. The sadness around her eyes was a legacy of Alan’s illness and death. Jase remembered that the times he’d seen her over the years, she usually had a wary expression around him.

  Ironic, really, when at first he’d wanted to ask her out himself. He still remembered the shock of discovering Alan had beat him to it.

  In those days he’d been arrogant enough to suspect any one preferring another man to him. Especially one so much older. He’d sided with Dean initially, thinking that Shannon had married his partner for his money.

  Or had some of it been sour grapes because she’d preferred Alan to him?

  He looked at his soup lest he give into the urge to reach out and touch that soft hair. He wanted to see her happy again. He’d like her to smile at him in genuine delight once, not with those polite little smiles she now gave. Would they ever be comfortable around each other?

  He doubted it. The sexual pull he felt for Shannon hadn’t diminished over the years, or with the knowledge that she was his friend’s wife. He’d never done or said anything to anyone. He hoped to God that Alan had never guessed. He knew Shannon hadn’t. He wasn’t sure she even liked him.

  How ironic that now that she was free, he felt honor bound to adhere to his friend’s last wish to let Shannon work in the firm for a year, then buy her out so she could go on with her life. Back to Washington. Putting the distance of a continent between them.

  “Isn’t your chowder any good?” Shannon asked.

  “It’s fine. How’s yours?”

  “Delicious. I sure hope I look more like I’m enjoying it than you do,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Tell me where you live and how you found your apartment. Are there any vacancies in your building, Jase?”

  “None that I know of.” For a moment he wondered what it would be like to have Shannon living in the same building. They could drive to and from work together as a matter of expediency. Maybe even shop together to save money, and save her having to purchase a car. No, that was a major dumb idea. What on earth was he thinking?

  Jase kept the conversation impersonal and friendly for the remainder of the meal. He took her back to the hotel as soon as they finished. He even offered to pick her up the next morning, but she said she’d get to the office by eight on her own.

  Driving home, Jase was dissatisfied with the way the evening had gone. But he didn’t have a clear picture of how he’d rather it have gone. Shannon wasn’t some woman he could develop a relationship with. She was his best friend’s widow and he had to remember that.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE NEXT MORNING Jase arrived at the office early. He went into the space recently vacated by Bill Jefferson to make way for Shannon. Standing in the doorway, he wondered what she’d think of it. The furniture was essentially the same as all the other furnishings in their offices—middle grade, wooden pieces, designed more for functionality than looks. They weren’t out to impress prospective clients with high end expenses, but offer a feeling of moderation and security.

  The window overlooked the street. They were high enough that the traffic noise wasn’t noticeable. He wondered again how much Shannon would really contribute to the company. Was it to be a token job, or would she have input that would keep the company growing?

  But why should he worry? It was only for a year. By next August, he should have enough funds freed up to buy her out, he reminded himself.

  “Hi.” Shannon came up behind him. “Maryellen said to come on back.” She sidestepped around him and entered the office. “This is mine?”

  “Yes.”

  She walked in and put her purse on the desk, dumping a bulging soft-sided briefcase beside it. “I brought files I wanted to review with you right away,” she said. She moved behind the desk and sat in the chair, looking up at Jason.

  “I know I’m not Alan,” she continued. “But he and I worked closely together. I’m not going to do anything to ruin this company. I’m a partner now. We need to work together,” she said. In her navy blue suit with the center button on the jacket, she looked cool and professional.

  Her speech sounded rehearsed. For a moment Jase relaxed. Maybe she was more nervous about their working relationship than he expected. And she wasn’t trying to throw her weight around. He hoped things stayed that way.

  “Just like Alan and I worked together,” Jase agreed. He would give her a chance. If it didn’t work out, he’d see what he could do to buy her out earlier.

  “And that was how, exactly?”

  “I decided the direction of the firm, Alan looked for the pitfalls, reminded me to rein in my spending and generally acted as a watchdog.”

  She nodded. “Alan said the company had been your idea from the word go. You have Special Forces training, an intelligence background. Frankly I don’t have any idea how to keep people safe in some of the situations in the world today. I’m happy to work behind the scenes. But I still want to talk about the software idea.”

  “Done. Come to my office in an hour. We’ll go over that and some other things. Staff meeting at eleven,” he reminded her.

  Jase strode off to his own office. It was the one used for client meetings; consequently it was twice as large as any other, with a round conference table by the corner windows, and a small sofa along one wall. Award plaques and discreet photos lined the back wall. He wanted people to know his firm could manage their security, yet not broadcast it to the world.

  His desk was piled high with reports. When clients came, he and his secretary, Maryellen, cleared the desk to give it an uncluttered look. None were expected anytime soon, so the desk was in its normal semichaotic state.

  He sat and picked up the first report, trying to focus on the words and ignore the fact that Shannon Morris was two doors down from him.

  At nine, Maryellen poked her head in Jase’s office. “Shannon is reviewing the reports from the field now, and asked if she can meet with you later. She wants to be up to speed when meeting with the rest of the staff at eleven.”

  He nodded, checking off another detail Bill Jefferson had nailed for the security of a prominent banker and his family. When Maryellen closed the door, he leaned back, tossing his pen on the desk. He didn’t want to admit how much he’d been looking for
ward to hearing Shannon argue against the software development project. He liked looking at her, liked the way she got fired up over things. Her eyes would sparkle and she’d be passionate about her side of the argument.

  He rose and walked to the window. It was another beautiful day in San Francisco; clear blue skies, a slight breeze to keep the air clean. Feeling restless, he wanted to be outside. Glancing at the stack on his desk, however, he knew he had more work to do before taking off.

  And there was the staff meeting at eleven. He wanted to make sure everyone was onboard with their new plan. He and Shannon had to work together, but he was still the man in charge. He didn’t want any questions about that from the staff. He was gone a lot with field work, and if they thought Shannon was in charge in his absence, he needed to straighten that out at the get-go.

  The meeting went off without a flaw until the end. Shannon was quiet most of the time, only asking questions to clarify a report. The rest of the staff—from the security experts to the clerical workers—all had spoken with her from time to time on various projects. While she knew them by name, he could almost feel her memorize faces to go with the voices she recognized.

  Her deference to him when someone asked a question raised a red flag. She was not normally so self-effacing. Was she biding her time, or was she acting as a typical newcomer? Jase almost wished she’d challenge him on something just to see her in action.

  Before the meeting ended, he brought up the topic guaranteed to provoke a response.

  “Hal, where do we stand on the startup of the software system?”

  Shannon’s gaze swiveled to his as she frowned at the question. Jase almost smiled in satisfaction at her predicted response.

  “I’ve been interviewing some programmers,” Hal said, looking from one partner to the other. The others in the room immediately picked up on the sudden tension.

  “And have you and others looked at existing software?” Shannon asked.

  Hal nodded. “We’d like ours to be similar to one of the existing ones out there—but with lots more bells and whistles. And another level of encryption to keep it safe from hackers.”

 

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