“Well,” Adam said, sliding his hands into his pockets once more, “I’d say you have to trust Rocky for that.” But Jake Fortune had a hard time trusting any of his children. Adam lifted a hand to the back of his neck. “Look, as independent and stubborn as Rocky is, do you honestly believe she’d settle for anyone who wasn’t absolutely wild for her?”
Jake looked up at him with something very near gratitude. “You’re right. Yes, you’re exactly right.” He sat back and smiled. “I hadn’t looked at it that way.”
Adam smiled to himself, feeling inordinately proud. Maybe there was hope for them, after all.
“Your mother wants to give them a party, sort of a family reception.”
Adam shook his head, grinning again. “Are we welcoming him or disemboweling him?”
Jake scowled. “Your mother means to welcome him, but frankly, I’m not sure it wouldn’t be the other way around, given the current climate.”
Adam folded his hands. “You’re talking about the Monica Malone thing now.”
Jake’s face instantly closed up. “The less said on that subject, the better.”
Adam shrugged. “Fine with me.”
“I only wish my brother and his crew agreed with you.”
“That’ll be the day.”
“I suppose so.”
Adam fingered the crease in his pants silently, sure they weren’t through. He didn’t have to wait long.
Jake drew himself up and put on a stern face. “Now,” he said, “when are you are going to give up this ridiculous search and come to work for the company?”
“Oops!” Adam shot up to his feet. “Time to go. Sorry you can’t stay longer, but for once I’d like to part without daggers drawn.”
“Damn it, Adam, I’m being serious!”
Adam swept a hand over his head. “Will you drop it? I don’t want to have this conversation again.”
Jake came to his feet. “Why can’t you see that you belong with the family company?”
“No.”
“Adam, please, I need you now. The cosmetics company is in dire need of leadership. You’re a natural. You could—”
“No! Damnation! Why do you always do this to me? I won’t step into the great maw of the Fortune companies!”
“Then just what are you going to do?” Jake demanded. “Sell cars? Install central heating?”
“No! I don’t know! But I’ll find something, something right for me.”
“But this job is right for you!”
“No!”
“Won’t you even hear me out?”
“No.”
Jake balled his hands into fists, obviously struggling with his temper. “I don’t understand you.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You’ve never understood what being part of this family means.”
“It’s not the family,” Adam told him firmly. “It’s the family business that I want no part of.”
Jake looked to be gathering himself for a real explosion when Laura meekly interrupted.
“Can I get you gentlemen anything before I call it a night?”
Jake swallowed whatever he had been about to say and shook his head.
“My father was just leaving,” Adam said, pointedly but quietly. “Thank you anyway.”
“No problem. It was good to meet you, Mr. Fortune. Be careful out in that cold, won’t you?”
Jake nodded and buttoned up his coat. “Good evening, Miss Beaumont.” He started forward, then stopped and passed a look from Adam to Laura. “It is ‘Miss,’ isn’t it?”
Laura blinked, then blushed. “Yes.”
“I thought so,” he murmured. “A pleasure to meet you.” He sent a hard look at his son. “Adam.”
“Father.”
He stormed out of the room, muttering that he could see himself out.
Adam sighed. Would it never change? His gaze went almost involuntarily to Laura. Or had change already begun? She had certainly derailed a shouting match with her timely, gracious interruption. Had she meant to do just that? he wondered as she said good-night and slipped away. Yes, he believed she had. Now if only he could decide how he felt about that and just how important the truth about her was.
Three
Adam used a piece of toast to wipe up the last of the egg on his plate, popped it into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and followed it with a mouthful of coffee, his pleasure evident. He touched his mouth with his napkin, then laid it on the table in the large, welcoming kitchen, where he sat with Laura.
“Tell me again why these are low-cholesterol eggs?”
Laura balanced her chin on an upturned palm, smiling. “It’s really very simple. Say you want to scramble a dozen eggs. You just whisk up nine egg whites and three whole eggs, add a drop or two of food coloring, heat a nonstick pan, put the eggs in and stir them around. It makes enough for us and the kids.”
“You put something else in these,” he accused teasingly.
She inclined her head. “You can add almost anything to them. I used some of the leftover mashed potatoes from last night—any are okay, as long as they’re already cooked—and some fat-free cheese I found in the refrigerator. It’s a real high-protein, low-fat, low-cholesterol breakfast, especially with toast and a little apple butter—which isn’t butter at all, actually.”
“So that’s how you keep that marvelous figure,” he said, eyes crinkling at the edges with his grin.
Laura felt heat sweep upward from her chest. For Pete’s sake! What was wrong with her? She’d been told that she had a nice figure before—but not by him. Dismayed at her own reaction to a simple compliment, she quickly averted her gaze. “Th-thank you. Uh, now, if you would stop by the grocer’s today and pick up some turkey bacon, we could have that, too.”
He wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it on the table, then got to his feet, shaking his head and reaching into his back pocket. “Not today. Sorry. But the roads are clear, so you might as well go and take the kids.” He opened his wallet and extracted a bill, which he thrust at her. “Get whatever you need.”
“Oh, no, it’s not…” Mechanically
