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Authors: Angela Benson

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Chapter One

Four months later

Y
ou can’t buy me,” Deborah Thomas told the distinguished man with salt and pepper hair
seated across the table from her in Justin’s, Diddy’s trendy Atlanta restaurant. The
previously tasty salmon she’d been eating unsettled her stomach. She met Abraham Martin’s
dark brown eyes. “Or my love,” she finished as she put down her fork. She picked up
her white linen napkin and blotted her lips, fighting back the bile that rose in her
throat. “Neither is for sale.”

She put down her napkin and was about to push back her chair when he reached out and
grasped her hand. She looked at his well-manicured nails, the expensive gold Rolex
watch on his wrist, and then back up at his face, making sure her displeasure was
evident in her glare. The mirth she saw in the eyes that met hers only added to her
rising ire.

“I’m glad you find this humorous,” she said. She attempted to pull her hand away but
he only held it tighter.

The mirth still in his eyes, he said, “You remind me so much of my mother. You have
no idea what it does to me to see my mother’s face in your face, to know that her
spirit lives on in you. She would have loved you so.”

Deborah snatched her hand away, remembering the contradicting emotions of joy and
pain she felt the day he’d shown her pictures of her now deceased grandmother, Iris.
Those pictures had answered questions she’d held for a long time. They told her why
she was short and big breasted while her mother and brother were tall and lean, why
her complexion was light while her mother’s and brother’s were dark. Those pictures
had also made her ache for what she’d missed. “And whose fault is it that she never
had the chance?” she asked him. “Whose fault is it that I never knew my own grandmother?”

He sobered, releasing a deep sigh. “I’ll go to my grave regretting the mistakes of
the past.”

Good, she thought, but she didn’t voice the word. The sincerity and pain in his voice
stopped her from taking any pleasure in his regrets. A part of her was glad he felt
remorse, because it meant that he cared a little, maybe. For so long, she’d never
dared to hope that he would care, couldn’t even dream that he loved her. His absence
from her life year after year after year had been too much evidence for a young girl’s
wishes to overcome. He didn’t love her. He never had.

“I’m not trying to buy you or your love,” he said, his gaze holding hers. “But there
was a time when that would have been my strategy.”

Deborah didn’t respond.

“Look,” he said, leaning toward her. “I made you the offer because I think you’re
right for the job. If nothing else, I’m a businessman. I don’t take the future of
my company lightly. Even
though Running Brook Productions was a steal and brings needed diversity to my existing
holdings, I admit that I had you in mind when I bought it.”

Lord help her, her heart beat faster at his words. She felt like the little girl she’d
once been, the one who longed for a daddy to make her hurts go away. “I have a job
that I love,” she said, overstating the truth. “Why should I even consider your offer?”

That sparkle returned to his eyes. “You might love your job, but I’m offering you
your own production company. Will Pearson Entertainment do that for you? Though you’ve
been in and around the broadcast world since you were in college, you’re young yet,
only twenty-eight, and Pearson is a big company. You’ll have to wait years there to
get the kind of responsibility I’m offering, and you know it.” He reached for her
hand again, squeezing it lightly. “It’s a great offer, Deborah. Think about it. Running
Brook is established enough that it has name recognition in the direct-to-DVD market
so you wouldn’t have to start at ground zero, yet it’s new enough for you to make
your mark both on it and with it. I’d even like you to collaborate on television and
film projects with other MEEG entities.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze, released
it, and sat back in his chair, the twinkle in his eyes gone.

Deborah tried to stare him down, but his eyes had turned to that innocent pleading
that reminded her so much of her brother Michael when he wanted her to agree to one
of his outrageous schemes. She looked away, toward the piano where a balding man fingered
the keys to a jazz oldie.

“I know it’s too late for me to play Daddy, Deborah,” he said, causing her to turn
back to him, “but I hoped we could at least become friends.”

Friends, she thought. I have enough friends. I could still use a father, she admitted
to herself. How she hated that weakness! “So you want me to work for you so we can
become friends?”

“I want you to work
with
me so we can continue to get to know
each other. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you these last few months, and I sensed
you felt the same. I’d also like to think you could learn a few things from a fossil
like me.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that comment. Abraham Martin had been described in
a lot of ways—entrepreneurial genius and entertainment trendsetter were two that came
to mind—but never had anyone referred to him as a fossil.

“That’s better,” he said. “I love it when you smile.”

Deborah could feel herself being swept back under the spell he’d begun weaving around
her since the day they’d had lunch together four months ago, the first time she’d
been face-to-face with her father. “We can’t go back, Abraham,” she said. “It’s too
late.”

He shook his head. “It’s not too late. Not as long as you have breath in your body
and I have breath in mine. We’ve lost a lot of years, all my doing,” he said. “But
we don’t have to lose another day. You’re my daughter, and my business is your business.
I’m not just offering you a job, Deborah. I’m offering you your rightful place as
my child and heir.”

Y
ou’ve got to talk to Michael, Mama Leah,” Josette said in the whiny high-pitched tone
that made Leah’s skin crawl. They sat facing each other on the extra-long full-sized
bed in the bedroom where Michael had grown up. “He’s changing. He’s started keeping
late hours and he’s evasive when I ask him about what he’s doing. He’s cheating on
me,” she said. “I just know it.”

Leah got up from the bed on the pretense of getting more tea. On days like today,
she wished her son and Josette had never met, much less married. Raised by overly
indulgent grandparents, her daughter-in-law gave new meaning to the word spoiled.
Josette was a sweet girl, but Leah could only tolerate small doses of her when she
was in complaint mode, as she was today.

Leah took her time dumping the tea in her cup in the sink in the adjoining bathroom,
which had once been shared by her son and daughter but now, with its sweet scent of
air freshener and the floral towels on the racks, only bore signs of her daughter.
When
she could stall no more, she returned to the bedroom and refilled her cup with fresh
tea from the carafe she’d brought up earlier and set on Michael’s old dresser.

Taking a deep breath, she turned back to her daughter-in-law. “What can I say to Michael,
Josette? I’ve already talked to him, and he says he’s not seeing anyone. He’s just
working longer hours these days.”

“It’s more than that,” Josette said, lifting damp eyes to Leah. “He’s hiding something
from me. I know he is.” She rubbed her hand over her protruding belly. “I’d leave
him if I weren’t pregnant. I might leave him anyway.”

Thinking of her unborn grandchild, Leah pushed away her frustration, returned to the
bed and sat next to Josette. “You don’t mean that,” she said, brushing her hand down
Josette’s silky black hair. “You love Michael and he loves you.” At least, she hoped
he did.

Still rubbing her belly, Josette said, “I used to think he did, but now I’m not sure.
How could he love me and neglect to tell me something as important as who his biological
father is? Why couldn’t he trust me with that information? If you love a woman, you
trust her. You don’t keep secrets from her the way Michael has since the beginning
of our marriage. Michael has never trusted me, and now I don’t trust him.”

Leah closed her eyes and said a quick silent prayer. God help her, but she’d wondered
the same thing since she first learned that Michael hadn’t told his bride-to-be that
the
Abraham Martin was his father. She blamed herself. When they were young she began
telling them that their father’s identity had to be kept secret. Now she wondered
why she’d burdened them that way. How she wished she could change the decisions she’d
made in the past! “It’s complicated, Josette. Abraham was never a father to them,
not really.”

Josette lifted damp, light brown eyes to her. “Why didn’t you say something?” she
asked, disappointment filling her voice.

Leah sighed. She had no excuse. Once again she’d allowed Michael to sweet-talk her
concerns away. “I don’t know, Josette. Michael’s animosity toward Abraham had grown
over the years to the point where the man’s name couldn’t be mentioned without starting
a war of words. Then you came along and Michael seemed to mellow a bit. The two of
you were so happy together. It was as if starting his own family was helping him to
deal with his feelings for Abraham.”

“We
were
happy,” Josette said. “I thought we were soul mates. I bared my heart to Michael
and thought he had done the same with me. Then I learn there is a whole other part
of him that he didn’t even share with me. How is that supposed to make me feel? What
else is he keeping from me?”

Leah didn’t know what to say. Her oldest child was becoming a stranger to her. “Don’t
worry yourself so, Josette. It’s not good for the baby for you to get upset.”

“I know, but I can’t help it. I’m having a baby in less than five months, and my husband
is seeing another woman.” She dropped her face to her hands and began to weep. “What
am I going to do?” she muttered.

Leah prayed for wisdom. She pulled her daughter-in-law to her side and rocked her
gently. “Everything’s going to be all right,” she said. “I’ll talk to Michael. You
get some rest.”

Leah pulled back the covers and eased her daughter-in-law under them. She kissed her
brow and tucked her in as she had done with Michael when he was a boy. “I love you,
Josette. Now get some rest.”

Josette was asleep before Leah picked up the tray with the tea and closed the bedroom
door. The front door opened as she reached the bottom stair, and Deborah burst into
the foyer. Her youngest child didn’t enter a room, she claimed it with an energy that
belied her petite frame.

“You’re home early,” Leah said to her daughter.

Deborah kicked off her Crocs and hung her shoulder bag on the coat tree. “I needed
a break.”

“Rough day?” Leah asked, glad her daughter had taken off those ugly shoes, which in
no way complemented the smart tailored pantsuit.

“Understatement of the year.” Deborah pressed a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “House
guest?” she asked, inclining her head toward the tray.

Leah headed toward the kitchen, with Deborah following her. “Josette.”

“Oh,” Deborah said, taking a seat at the oak dinette table Michael had bought for
the family when he graduated from college and got his first job. The new furniture
had been a big deal for them.

Leah placed the tray on the kitchen counter. “Yes, ‘oh.’”

“So she’s left Michael again?”

Leah pulled a pitcher from the refrigerator, poured two glasses of lemonade, and handed
one to Deborah. “Seems that way.”

Deborah took the glass, nodding her thanks. “What does that make—four times in the
last four months?”

“I’ve lost count. She’ll be back home with him as soon as he comes and gets her. It’s
become a ritual now. I think she leaves to get his attention.”

Deborah took a long swallow of lemonade. “I could strangle that boy, Mama. Josette
is the best thing that’s happened to him, and he’s too stupid to realize it. I don’t
blame her. I’d leave him, too. Unlike her, though, I’d go farther away than his mother’s
house and I wouldn’t sit around waiting for him to come get me. I’d leave him for
good.”

“Don’t talk like that, Deborah. You know your brother’s been going through a rough
patch recently.”

Deborah rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he’s been going through it since he hit puberty. He’s
a thirty-year-old man, Mama. He needs
to grow up. We aren’t the only kids to grow up without a father. That excuse stopped
working years ago. You don’t see me acting the fool the way he does, do you?”

Leah squeezed her daughter’s shoulder. “No, you’re the good child. You always have
been.”

“Mama, don’t say that. You’re making excuses for Michael. Abraham has reached out
to us, but Michael won’t reciprocate. I don’t know what he wants from the man.”

Leah could see that the conversation was going nowhere. She sat down across from her
daughter. “Your lunch with Abraham must have gone well.”

Deborah rubbed her fingers down the side of her glass. “It was okay.”

“Just okay?” Leah coaxed.

“He bought me a production company, Mama,” Deborah said, awe in her voice. “He bought
me a production company. Can you believe it?”

Leah gave her a big smile, wanting to be happy for her daughter, but her thoughts
quickly turned to her son and how he might react to the news. Her children had always
been close, and she hoped Abraham’s largesse toward Deborah wouldn’t change their
relationship. But she worried about it because anything involving Abraham seemed to
set Michael off. His sister’s good news could very likely send him into the stratosphere.

I
saac Martin waited for his mother in the back of the church. She had just dismissed
the weekly mid-morning Bible study group that she led. When she saw him, she smiled
and headed his way, but Reverend Reeves stopped her and pulled her aside to chat for
a moment. Several other folks stopped her before she reached him. In the meantime,
he greeted those who saw him. Since this was his home church, he knew practically
everybody. He hoped Reverend Reeves didn’t corner him today. His church attendance
had dropped off significantly in the last four months and he knew the pastor had noticed.

When his mother finally reached him, she lifted her cheek for the kiss he always had
for her. “Still the life of the party, huh, Mom?” he teased.

Saralyn Martin gave him a 100-watt smile that made her look more like his sister than
his mother. “I see you had your share of admirers.”

He held up his ring finger and pointed to the ring. “I don’t have admirers anymore,”
he said. “I’m married, remember?”

She slapped him on the arm with one of her recently manicured hands. “Nobody likes
a smart aleck, son.”

He laughed. “So where do you want to go for lunch?”

“Honey, I’m sorry but I can’t go to lunch today. I need to get back to the office.”

He lifted a brow. “The office? Since when did you start going into the office? I thought
charity events and cocktail parties took up all your time these days.”

“Except for this Bible study class, I’ve had to clear my social calendar,” she said.
“Since you decided you were no longer interested in the family business, I figured
somebody had to look out for your interests. That somebody is me.”

“Don’t start, Mom.”

“I’m not starting anything,” she said. “I’m telling you the truth. You shouldn’t have
left your position at MEEG. That company is yours and you belong there, no matter
what your father has done. Don’t forget that my father—your grandfather—started that
company.”

Isaac hadn’t forgotten. He also knew that Ellis News was only a minor cog in the wheel
that was now Martin-Ellis Entertainment Group. His father had turned a mom-and-pop
newspaper into a multi-million-dollar entertainment conglomerate consisting of a couple
of magazines, a film and television production company, and a television station.
“Don’t start, Mom,” he said again. “I didn’t come here to talk about him.”

“I’m not talking about him,” she said, “I’m talking about you. You’re letting your
disappointment in your father cloud your judgment. MEEG is yours. You shouldn’t be
working for somebody else. It’s not right.”

Isaac sighed. The position as VP of Special Products at Infinity Games wasn’t his
ideal job, but it was a soft landing while he
decided what he wanted to do long-term. “It’s right for me, Mom. I can’t live in his
shadow anymore. I don’t want to be with him or be like him. I have to become my own
man.”

“By working for somebody else? That makes no sense. You come from a long line of entrepreneurs,
men and women who took pride in building their own, not taking scraps from somebody
else. Where did you get your ideas about work? You certainly didn’t get them from
me, your father, or your grandfather.”

Isaac didn’t deny the entrepreneurial bent that flowed through his veins, but after
learning about his father’s other children, he’d needed a break from the man, so he
took the first decent opportunity that presented itself. With Infinity, he learned
about gaming, an entertainment area that MEEG had yet to explore. Besides, working
with his father and trying to meet his excessively high expectations had grown more
stressful each day. He’d found himself popping antacids like there was no tomorrow.
“You’re determined to argue with me, aren’t you?” he asked his mother.

She tucked her arm through his and guided them toward the sanctuary’s exit doors.
“I’m determined to get you to see what’s right. There’s a difference.”

Isaac threw back his head and laughed. “You’re the perfect match for Dad. I have to
give you that.”

She sobered and her steps faltered. “I used to think so.”

He hugged her to his side. “I’m sorry, Mom,” he said, mentally berating himself for
being so insensitive. “I know this hasn’t been a walk in the park for you.” Though
his mother had long known about his father’s infidelities, she’d been humiliated by
his recent efforts to embrace his outside children.

“No, it hasn’t,” she said. “But you don’t see me walking away from all I’ve worked
for. Now is not the time to be emotional.”

Isaac stared at his mother. She looked all prim and proper in her pale pink designer
suit and matching heels, but her backbone
was as solid and unyielding as the diamonds that adorned her ears, neck, and wrists.
“I don’t know how you do it.”

“You’re not a woman,” she said. “If women fell apart every time a man did something
stupid, that’s all we’d do. No, women have to be strong. When the man falls, we have
to keep standing. Otherwise, there would be no family.”

“Okay, Mom,” he said. He could feel her winding up for a lecture and he wanted to
cut her off before she got started.

“Okay, nothing. Yes, I’m angry with your father for his betrayal. I’m angered by the
insensitivity to our feelings he’s showing with his ‘do the right thing’ campaign.
I hate what he’s done to this family and I’m not sure I’ll be able to forgive him
anytime soon. But what he’s done doesn’t take away from what we’ve built together.
That company is as much yours as it is your father’s. Now is not the time to walk
away, Isaac. I don’t know where your father’s head is these days but something tells
me we’re both going to find out soon, and I don’t think we’re going to like what we
hear. You need to stake your claim before Abraham starts dividing up the pie. Can
you see yourself sharing MEEG with those interlopers, working side by side with them?
I’d die first.”

“Since I’m not working at MEEG any longer, it doesn’t really matter to me,” Isaac
said. “That’s a battle I won’t have to fight.” He wanted, and needed, peace in his
life and his work. He knew that now. Let his half siblings have MEEG and the drama
that was Abraham Martin.

His mother stopped walking and stared at him. “Now that’s the kind of crazy talk that
keeps me awake at night. You’ve got to wake up and smell the coffee, son. We’re not
just talking about a job here; we’re talking about your birthright, your heritage.
Don’t be a slouch like Esau and give yours away.” She started walking again. “I blame
your father for all of this. Why stir the pot after all these years? Our lives were
going along fine the way things were. Now he’s bringing the infidels in among us.”

“You make them sound like the enemy.”

“In a way, they are. That woman had no respect for my marriage. She didn’t have one
child with your father, she had two.”

Isaac could feel his mother’s pain, and his anger at his father grew. How could the
man he’d held in such esteem all his life, the man who always spoke of the honor in
being a husband and father, mistreat his mother this way, a woman who’d always stood
by him? He thought about his own wife and wondered if he could ever do the same to
her. He tossed the thought aside as soon as it formed in his mind. He’d never hurt
Rebecca the way his father had hurt his mother. He hugged his mother to his side.
“Let’s go pick up some lunch.”

She looked up at him. “You’ll come back to the office and eat with me?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, Mom, I will.”

“Good,” she said, with that bright smile she gave when she got her way. “I need your
advice on a couple of things.”

Isaac knew very well that his mother didn’t need his advice. She had just executed
the first step in her efforts to recruit him back to MEEG. He didn’t have the heart
to tell her that her efforts would not yield the results she wanted. He didn’t see
himself going back to MEEG, not now, maybe not ever. And not even his mother, the
brilliantly manipulative Saralyn “I always get my way” Martin, could change that.

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