Sweet Fortune (26 page)

“You'll be the first to know when we've got it settled.” Hatch lounged against Vincent's desk, folded his arms, and regarded Jessie with a cool, searching gaze. His eyes skimmed over the tight black leotard that fit her like a glove. He frowned with disapproval. “What are you doing here?”

“Having a little father-daughter chat,” she murmured.

Vincent snorted. “She's trying to talk me into giving Lilian and Connie twenty grand to expand their business.”

“I see.” Hatch did not take his eyes off Jessie. “Have you already made your pitch?”

“Yep,” said Jessie. “And since Dad has already changed the subject, I assume he's going to go for it, aren't you, Dad?”

“Hell, I suppose I'll have to. If I don't, those two will end up in the clutches of some smooth-talking banker who'll charge 'em an arm and a leg in interest.”

Jessie clamped her hands around the arms of the chair and pushed herself to her feet. “Thanks, Dad. I'll give them the good word. I'm sure they'll be properly grateful and will keep perfect records on how they spend every cent.” She gave Hatch a challenging smile. “You'll probably be late getting home tonight as usual, won't you?”

Annoyance sparked in his gaze. “Probably. I've got some figures to go over with your father.”

“Hey, don't worry about it,” Jessie said airily, starting for the door. “I'll be working late myself. Alex and I are making real headway on our investigation.”

Vincent's expression became thunderous again. “Investigation? Are you still fooling around with that cult thing? I thought that nonsense was finished. Hatch said the guy was running some kind of scam, not a cult, and that your so-called client called off the investigation.”

“Things have changed,” Jessie said.

“What things, dammit?”

“I'll explain it all to you later, Benedict.” Hatch straight ened away from the desk and went toward Jessie. “I'd like a word with you before you take off, Jessie.”

“Sure. 'Bye, Dad.”

Jessie winced as Hatch's hand closed firmly around her upper arm. But other than slanting him a reproachful look, she said nothing as he steered her through the outer office and into the hall.

He stopped when he was out of earshot of the secretaries and released Jessie near a potted palm. Coolly, deliberately, he planted one hand on the wall beside her right ear and leaned in close. The pose was deliberately intimidating. It was one of the many things he did well, Jessie reflected. She started to push her hair back and discovered it was already held back by the clip.

“I don't want you doing any more of this,” Hatch stated softly.

She groaned. “Hatch, we've been through all the arguments. I've told you, I can't just halt the Attwood case. At least not until I'm satisfied Susan Attwood is all right.”

“I am not talking about that damned case,” Hatch bit out.

“I am referring to what you were doing there inside your father's office. This business of letting the entire family use you to get what they want from Benedict is going to stop. Whoever wants to ask him for something can damn well ask for it in person. You're no longer the intermediary. Clear?”

She sighed. “Hatch, you don't understand.”

“The hell I don't. Just say no, Jessie. Remember?”

“Easy for you to say.”

“You'll learn how. All it takes is a little practice. I won't have them using you anymore, Jessie. I mean it. I don't want you doing those kinds of favors for any of them. Not your mother or Connie or David or your Aunt Glenna. Enough is enough.”

“But it's easier for me to deal with him, Hatch. Don't you see? I've always done it. I know how to do it.”

“The others can damn well learn if it's important enough to them.”

She shook her head sadly. “That's just it. It might not be important enough to them.”

Hatch stared at her. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Jessie looked up at him, willing him to understand. “I'm afraid they'll all give up on him if they're forced to deal with him directly. After all, Connie and Lilian both gave up on him while they were married to him. David got so resentful and frustrated trying to please him that he finally stopped talking to him. Aunt Glenna says it's a waste of time trying to forge a relationship with Dad. But it's not. Not entirely.”

“What you mean is that you've managed to keep some kind of bond established among all of you by doing all the diplomatic work. Jessie, that's wrong.”

“Is it?” she demanded softly. “At least this way he's got some kind of family ties and the rest of us have some kind of contact with him. Maybe it hasn't been exactly
Father Knows Best
around here, but at least we've all had a relationship of some sort. It could have been worse, you know. He could have done what David's father did and just disappeared from our lives altogether.”

“Christ, what a mess.” Hatch's eyes glittered. “Jessie, I don't want you holding the whole thing together by yourself any longer. With the exception of Elizabeth, they're all adults. They can deal with their own problems.”

“I'm supposed to just step out of the picture, is that it?”

“Yeah. That's it.”

“This is my family, Hatch. Give me one good reason why I should do what you want,” she hissed.

“I thought I'd already explained this part. I want to be damn sure that when you marry me you're not doing it solely for the benefit of the Benedict-Ringstead clan.”

“And I've already told you, I have no intention of marrying you.” But the protest sounded weak, even to her own ears.

“We'll save that argument for another time. Right now I want to make sure you understand that you're out of the intermediary business. Let the other Benedicts and Ringsteads fend for themselves.”

“But I've already promised David I'd ask Dad about financing grad school.”

“I'll handle David.”

“You'll handle him? Hatch, you barely know him. You haven't been around our family long enough to figure out how to deal with this kind of thing. David's very sensitive.”

“So am I,” Hatch snarled softly, slapping his other hand against the wall on the other side of her head. “You just haven't bothered to take much notice, what with being too busy worrying about everybody else's sensitive nature. One last time. I want to make damn sure I'm not being married so that David and his mother and the moms and your sister are all being taken care of by you as per usual. Got that?”

“You're about as sensitive as a rhino. And stop talking about marriage. We're having an affair and that's as far as it's going to go.” Jessie tried to duck out from under one of his arms and managed to blunder straight into the potted palm. The plant and Jessie both began to topple to the side.

With a muttered oath Hatch caught both palm and woman before they sprawled ignominiously on the floor. He steadied the plant and held Jessie's arm as she spit out a palm leaf.

“I want your word on this, Jessie. I mean it.”

“Look, Hatch…”

“I said, I want your guarantee not to play go-between for everyone in the family, at least until our relationship has been finalized,” he repeated through tightly clenched teeth.

“Finalized?” For a split second, standing there, looking up at him, Jessie felt disoriented. A strange, familiar sense of need hovered just at the edge of her awareness, not her own need, she realized, but something Hatch was experiencing.

“You know what I'm talking about.” Once more he put his hand on the wall behind her and leaned in close.

“This is intimidation, Hatch.” She was breathless and confused all of a sudden.
Hatch needed her
?

“Damn right. Come on, Jessie, stop wasting my time and your own.”

“All right, I promise.” The words were out before she had quite realized she was going to say them.

Hatch nodded once, satisfied. “I'll see you at dinner tonight.” His fist dropped away from the wall. With one last warning glance he swung around on his heel and stalked back toward Vincent Benedict's office.

Jessie walked toward the elevators on trembling legs. She must have gone crazy there for a minute. She had stood up to him on the matter of the Attwood case. But she'd collapsed completely on this issue. It made no sense.

She sincerely hoped she was not turning into a wimp.

Forty-five minutes later, Jessie parked her car in front of the low, modern building that housed the offices of ExCellent Designs. She opened the car door and got out slowly, not particularly looking forward to the meeting that lay ahead.

Downtown Bellevue was humming with its usual assortment of BMW's and well-dressed suburbanites. Jessie always felt as if she had crossed some sort of international border when she drove over one of the bridges that linked the Eastside with Seattle.

Over here everything always looked clean and trendy and expensive. In Seattle the high-fashion shops and restaurants competed for space with the gritty elements that had characterized real cities since the dawn of time.

Connie glanced up from the design plan she was perusing on her desk when Jessie opened the office door. She smiled. “Hello, Jessie. Is this good news or bad news?”

“A little of both.”

Connie made a face. “Better save it until your mother gets here, then. She just went out to get us some coffee. Ah, here she is.”

“Hi, Jessie.” Lilian Benedict walked into the office carrying two cups of latte. “This is a surprise. I assume you've got some news for us?”

“Dad will give you the money for the expansion,” Jessie said, sinking down into one of the exotically shaped black leather-mesh chairs.

“Fabulous. I knew you could talk him into it. Any serious catches this time?” Lilian removed the top from her latte.

“No, but I had a little trouble with Hatch over the arrangement.”

“With Hatch?” Constance stared at her in astonishment. “Why is Hatch involved in this?”

“He's not, actually. He just thinks he is. To put it briefly, he got very annoyed that I was doing the asking. I don't think he likes me going to Dad with requests like yours.”

“But this is a personal matter between us and Vince.” Lilian frowned. “Does he think the money comes directly out of Benedict Fasteners or something?”

“No, it's not that.” Jessie shifted slightly in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position. Her father was right. Some of this European design stuff looked better than it felt. “It's me being in the middle that bothers him for some reason. I explained to him that I'm used to dealing with Dad, but Hatch doesn't understand exactly how things work, if you see what I mean.”

Lilian and Constance exchanged glances.

“I think we see,” Lilian said dryly.

Constance sighed and sat back in her chair. Her long mauve nails traced the rim of the cup she was holding. “He's quite right, you know. We have all tended to let you handle Vincent for us, by and large. You have a knack for it.”

“Ummm, true.” Lilian studied her daughter. “I wonder why Hatch is interested in that fact.”

“I think he believes I'm being used,” Jessie said carefully.

Lilian's expression tightened into one of deep concern. “Do you feel used, dear?”

Jessie glanced out the window. “No. I did it of my own free will. It was just the way things were. A pattern, as Aunt Glenna would probably say. I guess I felt that as long as I was running back and forth between everyone else in the family and Dad, we were all still linked, somehow. Still a family.”

“Well, it worked, after a fashion,” Constance murmured. “We're all living amicably enough in the same region and we're all on speaking terms, except possibly David. Vince has been difficult, but, on the whole, reasonably fair when it comes to money. And if it hadn't been for you, I doubt that Elizabeth would have nearly as much contact with her father as she does have. I think he would have drifted away from her and everyone else if it hadn't been for you, Jessie.”

Lilian nodded. “Vincent is like a Missouri mule. You have to keep hitting him over the head with a big stick to get his attention. But when you do have it, he's a decent man.”

“I've been the stick,” Jessie said.

“For better or worse, I'm afraid so,” her mother agreed. “In a very real way, you've been what Glenna likes to call the caretaker in the family, haven't you? The one who holds things together.”

“I think Aunt Glenna calls it being the family enabler,” Jessie muttered.

Lilian frowned. “I'm not sure I like the fancy new words the psychologists use these days to describe the old nurturing skills. They demean them somehow. And I'm not at all sure ‘enabler’ is the right word here anyway. But it's obvious Hatch now wants you out of the role, whatever it is.”

“He says he doesn't want me marrying him because I'm under pressure to do so,” Jessie said slowly.

Constance pounced on that remark. “He's asked you, then?”

“No, not exactly. He's just sort of assumed we'll get married. You know how men like that operate. They're like generals. They set a goal and they just keep driving toward it until they've achieved their objective.”

Lilian eyed her curiously. “Does that strange expression on your face mean you're contemplating the same objective Hatch has in mind? Are you finally thinking seriously about marriage?”

“No, dammit, I am not. I seem to be involved in an affair with him, but that's as far as it's going to go.”

“But, Jessie, why?” Constance stared at her, perplexed. “If you like him enough to have an affair with him, why not marry him?”

Jessie looked away and suddenly she was crying. “Dammit, I will
not
spend the rest of my life fighting for a man's love. That's one pattern I will not repeat.”

“Jessie. Oh, Jessie, honey, don't cry.” Lilian leapt to her feet and stepped around her desk to crouch beside Jessie's chair. She put her arms around her and held her close, rocking her gently the way she had when Jessie had been a child and Vincent Benedict had canceled yet another outing on account of business. “It's all right, dear. It's going to be all right.”

Jessie groped blindly for a tissue, disgusted with her loss of control and frightened by what it signified about the depth of her feelings for Hatch.

There was silence in the office for a while. Jessie blinked back the tears and blew her nose a couple of times. Then she gave her mother a watery smile. “Sorry. I've been under a lot of pressure lately.”