Forged of Steele Bundle (41 page)

If she ever became her wannabe mischievous twin, that meant having the courage to trade her sensible four-door sedan in for that two-seater convertible she always wanted—and turning her nighttime fantasies into reality by behaving in such a way that would blow a fuse just thinking about. She didn’t want to dwell on all the naughty pleasures she would have.

Lena immediately dismissed the thoughts of her less than sensible twin, knowing she could never do anything like that. Her life was what it was and she couldn’t change it. She wasn’t the mischievous twin, she was the good one who had responsibilities that took precedence over anything else, including her desire to have Morgan Steele in her bed. Her mother came first.

She was her mother’s sole caretaker and had
been since her father’s death six years ago. Her mother’s health began failing her soon after her husband passed, making it hard for her to get around at times. A part of Lena believed it was due more to loneliness than anything else because a lot of her mother’s problems were more emotional, especially the bouts of depression.

Her parents had had a rather close marriage and Lena was born after they had already been happily wedded for close to twenty years. A number of miscarriages had convinced her parents they would spend the rest of their lives childless, and Lena had been a big surprise to her forty-three-year-old father and her forty-year-old mother.

Growing up in the Spears household, she had always felt loved and cherished by her parents and she missed her father dearly. For that reason she clearly understood the depth of loss her mother felt and the bouts of occasional depression that had followed. Even now on occasion, Lena would wake up during the night and hear her mother calling out for her father in her sleep, and it always brought tears to Lena’s eyes that anyone could have loved someone that deep and strong. It was on those nights after getting her mother settled back down that she would acknowledge the depth
of her own loneliness and restlessness and give in to her fantasies of Morgan.

She inhaled deeply as she started her car. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. In a few hours it would be time to pick her mother up from the adult day care. She went there twice a week for social enrichment and interaction on the recommendation of her mother’s social worker. Although it had put a huge dent in her budget, so far it had been a month and Lena hadn’t received a call from the day care’s director letting her know her mother had begun withdrawing, which usually was a clear sign that she was headed for another bout of depression.

Lena smiled thinking she had an idea as to why. Her mother had been talkative a lot lately when Lena had picked up her, and had told her about Ms. Emily, a newcomer to the day care. It seemed that she and Ms. Emily, who was also a widow in her early seventies, had struck up a friendship and Lena was glad about that. Her mother was someone who didn’t warm up to people easily.

And speaking of warming up…she allowed her thoughts to return to Morgan. Everything about him spoke of the dynamics of a man who was used to having his way. Well, unfortunately, she had shown him the few times he’d come on to her that
she wasn’t putty in any man’s hand. The only thing the two of them could ever share was friendship. And after her last serious talk with him about three months ago, he hadn’t asked her out again, so she could only assume that he’d finally gotten the message if today was anything to go by. He had acted strictly business.

The last few men she’d fancied herself as possibly having a serious relationship with had painstakingly informed her that as long as she came with extra baggage—namely her elderly mother—no man in his right mind would be interested in marrying her.

She had decided if that was the case, then she would live the rest of her life single and not worry about indulging in a committed relationship because she and Odessa Spears were a package and would remain as such until their dying days.

Deciding she didn’t want to spend the rest of the day thinking about the things she would never have, she shifted her thoughts to the things that she could have—namely a big sale if she located Morgan the house he wanted, and if she sold the one he now owned. Pulling off such a feat would pay a hefty commission and she would do her best getting him just what he wanted. And she knew
exactly what she would do with the money. She would get her mother involved in even more enrichment programs for senior citizens as well as plan a cruise for the both of them. It had been a while since they’d gone on a vacation together, and it was time that they did.

“You’re late, Morgan. You know I don’t like keeping Shari waiting.”

Morgan slid into the booth across from his brother and glanced up into Donovan’s annoyed features and rolled his eyes. “Shari today, Kari tomorrow, whatever. Besides, it couldn’t be helped. I had an important meeting that I needed to keep.”

Morgan glanced around. The Racetrack Café was a popular place in town to grab something to eat and to wet your lips with a drink. Owned by several race car drivers on the NASCAR circuit, it had become one of Donovan’s favorite hangouts mainly because his best friend, Bronson Scott, was now one of the drivers on the NASCAR circuit.

Donovan finished off what was left of what he was drinking. “So you did have your meeting with Lena?”

Morgan frowned. “How did you know about our meeting?”

Donovan gave his brother one of his cocky smiles that was known to grate on his nerves before motioning for the waiter to bring him another drink. “To answer your question, I knew something was up with you this morning at the meeting in Chance’s office. Most of the time you sat there like you were zoned out. I figured you either had had a rather good night or you were finally putting together a solution to your problem.”

They paused in conversation long enough for the waiter to drop Donovan another drink off and to take Morgan’s order before Morgan turned narrowed eyes back to his brother. “My problem?”

Donovan chuckled. “Yeah, and don’t play dumb. All of us know how you have the hots for Lena Spears.”

The hots didn’t come close to covering it, Morgan thought, leaning back in his seat. However, Donovan, who didn’t yet know the meaning of one woman for one man, was the last person who needed to know that. “And just who is all of us?”

Donovan grinned. “Me, Chance and Bas, mainly. We’re the ones who’ve been putting up with your bad-ass moods since meeting the woman. Some days you act like it’s our fault that she’s not interested in you.”

Morgan didn’t like Donovan’s assumptions. “She is interested.”

“Could have fooled me. In fact she’s doing a good job of fooling a lot of people since she hasn’t given you the time of day. How many times has she turned you down for a date, Morgan?”

“None of your damn business.” The waiter placed his beer in front of him and it was right on time, Morgan thought, taking a swallow straight from the bottle. It was either that or smashing Donovan’s face in.

“Well, you know how I feel about any man running behind a woman. Downright disgusting. It should be the other way around,” Donovan said, taking a sip of his drink. “And I understand you’re going out of town for a few days to hang out with Cameron in Atlanta. I’m sure sometime during your visit the two of you will have a pity party since he’s just as messed up over Vanessa as you are with Lena.”

Morgan’s features grew dark as he glanced across the table at Donovan. “Cameron and I are meeting to discuss a business venture we’re both interested in and not for any damn pity party.” When Donovan merely shrugged Morgan felt the
need to add “I hope I’m around when you suffer your first heartbreak.”

“Sorry to disappoint you but it won’t happen. There isn’t that much woman in the world, Morgan. Why settle for just one when the world is filled with so many of them? And now that the Steele Corporation has signed on as one of Bronson’s sponsors for NASCAR, and I get to go to many of the races, the pickings are even better. I never knew so many good-looking women were interested in fast cars. Man, if you could only see them. They look just as good with their clothes on as they do with them off. There’s this one sista who has a tattoo on her—”

“Hey, spare me the details, Donovan,” Morgan said, holding up his hand.

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

Morgan shook his head. “Trust me, I believe I do.”

Donovan leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin as he studied Morgan. Within a year’s time two of his brothers had made it to the altar, and it seemed Morgan was hell-bent on making it three. He liked his sisters-in-law true enough and was happy for his brothers, but his dream girl was one who was no more interested in marriage than
he was. Like him the only thing she was interested in was a good time.

“So tell me, Morgan, why did you want to meet here instead of back at the office?”

“Does there have to be a reason?” Morgan asked, putting his bottle down.

Donovan released a long-suffering sigh. “For you, yes. So spill your guts. Get it out.”

Morgan glanced away for a moment and when he returned his gaze to Donovan he saw the questions lodged in the darkness of the eyes staring back at him. Knowing he couldn’t waste any more time he said, “There are two reasons that I wanted to meet with you. The first is to let you know that I met with Edward Dunlap again.”

Donovan nodded and lightly rubbed his chin, regarding his brother intently. “Does that mean you’ve finally made a decision about running for that city council at-large seat in the fall?” he asked his brother.

He’d known that for years a number of the African American leaders around town wanted Morgan to strongly consider a political career. He had charisma, charm and an ingrained sense of doing what was right. His community service—as well as his public service record—was astonishing
and included such notable accomplishments as leading Charlotte’s Economic Development and Planning Council.

Another plus was that Morgan had been born and raised in Charlotte. The Steeles were one of the first families to begin a black-owned business that now employed a lot of people and who didn’t hesitate to pay their employees a very decent salary.

Another plus Donovan knew Morgan had in his cap was the Steele Corporation’s infrastructure. They were a company that believed in being loyal to the people who worked for them. When they had a chance to make a bigger profit by outsourcing a lot of their production department, they had refused since it would have meant putting over five hundred people out of a job.

Yes, there was no doubt in Donovan’s mind that if Morgan ever decided to seek a political office he would get it. Some even had him pegged as the man who would eventually become the city’s first black mayor.

Only a selected number of individuals were born to be public servants, and he’d always felt that Morgan was one of them. And although Morgan downplayed such, Donovan knew that deep down Morgan did want to become a political candidate
mainly because of his ingrained sense of always wanting to help people.

“No. I haven’t made a decision, but I am giving it more thought than I did before. Dunlap feels the time is right. He’s also afraid if I don’t run, Roger Chadwick will, and both you and I know if that happens he will hurt the city more than help it.”

Donovan chuckled harshly. “That’s an understatement.”

“I have to know that I have certain things in place before making my final decision, and one of them involves you,” Morgan said.

“Me?”

“Yes.
You.
I’d like you to be my campaign manager if I do decide to run.”

Donovan smiled proudly. That meant Morgan being a candidate was a high likelihood. “Consider it done.”

Morgan nodded. “Thanks. Now for the other reason I wanted to meet with you. I met with Lena today because I’ve decided to sell my house and plan to buy a new one. She’ll be handling both transactions for me.”

Donovan looked at him and shook his head. “It’s your house to do as you please with, but I’m surprised you’d want to sell it. You’ve always
talked about how much you like your home. According to you it was the ‘perfect’ house.”

“It still is, which is why I wanted to meet with you.”

Donovan leaned back in his chair. The expression on his face was one indicating he was clearly confused. “Evidently, I’m missing some point here, so maybe you ought to go ahead and tell me what I got to do with you selling your house.”

Morgan picked up his beer bottle and took another sip. “Lena mentioned that once I put my house on the market she’d probably begin showing it to a lot of people.”

Donovan rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Yeah, that’s usually how it works.”

“That’s all well and good,” Morgan said, ignoring his brother’s sarcasm. “But I don’t want anybody to buy it.”

“Then why in blazes are you selling it?”

Donovan waited for him to answer and when he saw Morgan wasn’t quick with any answers, he couldn’t help but laugh when he figured things out. “You’re pretty damn desperate to resort to putting your house up for sale just to get on Lena’s good side.” Donovan’s brows shot up. “But you still haven’t told me what any of this has to do with me.”

Morgan took another pull from his beer bottle. “I want Lena to try to sell it, but in the end I want to feel comfortable knowing the person buying it will take care of it.”

“And?”

Morgan sighed. “And I want you to be the one to buy it.”

First a grin spread across Donovan’s face as he thought Morgan was joking. But after studying his brother’s features and seeing Morgan was dead serious, Donovan began shaking his head adamantly. “No can do, man. I don’t need a place as large as your house. My condo is just fine.”

“But don’t you want your space?”

Donovan took another swallow of his drink and said, “I have enough space, thank you very much. I do one woman at a time, so that’s all the space I need. Besides, your house is on an acre of land. I don’t do yards. I never got along with grass. I don’t own a mower and don’t plan to buy one. It doesn’t bother me to pay those exceedingly high association fees for the golf course in my backyard, although I’m not a golfer. It goes with my image, one I want to keep. Besides, I always thought your place was too big for one person. I still do.”