Controlling Interest

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

Controlling Interest

ISBN 9781419932939

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Controlling Interest Copyright © 2011 Francesca Hawley

Edited by Mary Moran

Cover art by Syneca

Electronic book Publication January 2011

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
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characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Controlling Interest

Francesca Hawley

Acknowledgements

To Paris Brandon. You are an amazing crit partner! Thank
you!

To my editor Mary Moran. Thank you for seeing a spark in my
writing that appealed to you. I’ve learned a lot from you during the last
couple of years and I’ve enjoyed working with you. I look forward to working
with you for a long time to come.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark
owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Minnie Mouse: Disney Enterprises

Chapter One

“She did
what
?” Torin Stuart rose from his chair with
a roar.

Mouse was entirely grateful that the lion’s roar was
directed at his late mother’s attorney and not at her, but the attorney was
unperturbed.

“Your mother left her controlling interest in your club
Erotically
Bound to Ms. Mozelle Vincent.”

“But Mother
knew
…”

“Please sit down and allow me to finish reading the will in
a proper manner, Mr. Stuart.”

Tor ran his fingers through his bright ginger hair and
glared at her briefly before sitting with a growl. Mouse kept her hands tightly
around her purse. He’d been really kind in letting her stay in the townhouse
his mother had set aside for her use, but with this news, he’d probably toss
her out on her ass. Damn it. She thought she was done with being homeless.

“Ms. Vincent, shall I continue?” Mouse nodded. “Very well.”
The lawyer cleared his throat. “I leave my controlling interest in the amount
of fifty-one percent in the club
Erotically Bound to Ms. Mozelle
Vincent. In addition, I will her the townhouse and all furnishings thereof in
which she has been living for the last five years. The estate will pay property
taxes for two years, but then, and I quote ‘you’re on your own’. Do you
understand, Ms. Vincent?”

Mouse’s jaw dropped. That townhouse was stunning. Huge and
smack in the center of Washington D.C. with a multicar garage. It was located
in the historic Capitol Hill district, just blocks from the Capitol building
and Pennsylvania Avenue. The place was worth…millions.

“Ms. Vincent, do you understand the terms of the will
regarding the townhome?”

“Yes, I own it and Regine’s estate will pay the first two
years of property taxes then it’s my responsibility.”

“Precisely.”

“Is that all? Can we discuss my club now?”

The lawyer frowned at Torin over the top of his reading
glasses, his bushy white brows extending over the frames. “I have not finished.
Please remain silent until I do, sir.”

Tor waved his hand with a sigh and the lawyer nodded. Mouse
wanted to laugh at the byplay between the two men, but she was too shocked.
What had Regine been thinking?

She had to have had an ulterior motive for doing this, God
knew, she always did. Regine Stuart was always three moves ahead of everyone
else…a master strategist. That was how she’d managed to be one of D.C.
society’s reigning queens. When Regine spoke, everyone listened…even the
president.

“Ms. Vincent, please attend.”

Mouse looked up as the lawyer admonished her. “Sorry.” She
shrugged.

“Finally, for—and again I quote—surviving six years in my
employ as my downtrodden Jill-of-all-trades and for making my final years a
pleasure instead of a burden, I will Mozelle Vincent twenty million dollars.”

Ice filled her body before unbearable heat melted her
emotions. Her jaw dropped, but she was so utterly shocked she couldn’t move.
Then she burst into uncontrollable tears. Throughout most of her life she’d
hadn’t had a pot to piss in, but then six years ago she literally tripped over
Regine Stuart and her world had completely turned on its head. The lawyer rose
and approached her.

“My dear, are you quite all right?” He awkwardly patted her
shoulder and she nodded, still trying to cover her abrupt emotional response.

She hated crying. She hated losing control of her emotions.
She hid whatever she felt behind a façade of calm, which was something Regine
had always valued in her. And it was something they had in common. Even if the
world came crashing down around them, both she and Regine could remain calm to
pick up the pieces and move forward.

Mouse glanced at Tor, worried that he’d think she was being
overly dramatic or that she was getting money she didn’t deserve, but he seemed
moved by her emotional display rather than scornful. When she could catch her
breath, she cleared her throat.

“Don’t mind me, really. Go on with reading the will.”

“There isn’t too much more.” The lawyer returned to his
desk. “To my household staff…”

Mouse stared at her perfectly manicured fingers as the
lawyer finished. Those nails were a luxury she’d gotten used to with a steady
paycheck and Regine’s insistence that she look polished at all times. God, if
she had walked past the Capitol building five minutes earlier or five minutes
later six years ago, she and Regine never would have met. Regine had given her
a chance when no one else would. Sometimes miracles really did happen.

“This concludes the last will and testament of Regine
Stuart.”

“Can we discuss my club now? Please…” Tor growled as he
turned to her. “Mouse, how much do you want for it?”

The lawyer held up his hand as the remaining listeners filed
out of the room, leaving Mouse alone with the lawyer and Tor.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stuart. Your mother left explicit
instructions. Mouse…rather Miss Mozelle is required to hold her interest in the
club for a minimum of six months. Under the terms of the will, the two of you
are required to work together during that time.”

Tor opened his mouth then closed it again. He stood and
began to pace. Broad shoulders, narrow hips and the most amazing ass she’d ever
seen. Add a stunning body to his ginger hair and bright blue eyes and he was a
package of mischief that made better women than her melt and get silly.

Mouse looked down at her hands out of habit. Ever since she
began to work for Regine, she’d quietly had the hots for Tor, but putting that
attraction to the test was unthinkable. First, she was sure Regine wouldn’t
have been keen on having her assistant flirt with her son. And second, and most
important, Torin Stuart had been seen escorting tall, slender and decidedly
beautiful super models around town—his lovers had most definitely
not
been chunky personal assistants with frizzy, flyaway, boring brown hair and
dull brown eyes.

“Mouse… Mouse, did you hear me?”

She met Tor’s blue-eyed gaze and felt the blush crawl up her
neck. Damn.

“What?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “You’ve had a tough six years
working for Mother. Just relax for the next six months then I’ll offer you a
great price for the interest in the club.”

The lawyer cleared his throat, causing Tor to whip around.
“Damn it, Thompson. What the hell is it?”

“Your mother required you to work
together
to manage
the club. If any of the terms of her bequest are violated, the shares will be
sold…but not to you.”

“What?”

“If the two of you don’t work together, or if you make an
offer for her shares before six months have passed, which she accepts, then the
shares will be sold to anyone
but
you.”

“The shares belong to Mouse. She can sell to whomever she
wants.”

“No, I’m afraid not. If she goes against the terms of the
will, she loses everything your mother willed to her.”

God, she didn’t want to challenge Tor about this, but she
wouldn’t go back to living on the streets. She just wouldn’t.

She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Tor. I have to abide by
the will.”

“I thought you were different.” He snorted, shaking his
head. “But it’s always about money.”

“Says the man who’s always had it,” she retorted sharply.

Tor frowned at her. “Damn it, Mouse…”

She waved his words away. “I’ve been careful with my money,
but I will not toss your mother’s largesse down the drain as if it has no
value. I just won’t.”