had been mighty damn complicated.
He rested one lean hip against a wingback chair, his booted foot tapping restlessly. Her cousin looked back and forth between them. Sage obviously sensed something was wrong, but she kept her lips pressed closed. She wouldn’t ask.
And she wouldn’t gossip. Very likely that had been a quality high on Jeannie Mikkelson’s list when she’d chosen her assistant.
Did Sage already know about the affair? And perhaps about whatever was going on with their stocks? If some hint of the relationship between the two oil moguls had leaked, that could explain the odd fluctuations in stock holdings as investors grew unsure, some selling off their interests while others scooped up more, based on their own hypotheses.
So many questions.
Starting with...how long did it take to throw on some clothes? Glenna winced at the thought.
The door to her mother’s office finally swung open, the Alaskan yellow cedar panel revealing her mom, with Jack Steele standing tall right behind her, a gleam in his green eyes. Protective. Territorial. An unrelenting look Glenna had seen before in his business dealings. But this was different. So different.
She shifted her gaze to her mom.
Her mother’s damp hair was pulled back in a clip, but otherwise there was no sign of what had happened. Jeannie Mikkelson was as poised and strong as ever. She’d run the corporation alongside her husband for years, and then taken the helm alone after his first major heart attack debilitated him.
She’d kept the business running at full speed through his entire health crisis and even held it together after that final fatal heart attack. The whole family had been rocked. But Jeannie? Glenna had seen her cry only once.
Her mother excelled at keeping her emotions under wraps.
So it was no surprise she remained unreadable now. This wasn’t about her mother having a relationship with someone other than Glenna’s father.
It was about her mom having a relationship with this man.
Jack Steele looked like an older version of his eldest son, with dark hair more liberally streaked with gray. He’d kept in shape, but age had thickened him. He was a character, similar to all three of his sons. He was executive and cowboy. And Alaskan.
One of the many headlines from his magazine profiles scrolled through her mind. The CEO Wore Mukluks.
Jeannie nodded toward her assistant. “Sage, could you hold all my calls and redirect any visitors?”
“Of course, Aunt Jeannie.” Sage already had her notebook tablet in hand and was tapping with delicate efficiency.
“This may take a while.”
“I’ll reschedule your eleven o’clock and send Chuck to take him out to lunch.”
Chuck, aka Charles Mikkelson III, was Jeannie’s son, Glenna’s brother and second in command of the company. Heir apparent to take over when Jeannie retired.
If she ever retired. Jeannie was still vibrant and going strong, only in her sixties.
“That’s the perfect plan. Thank you, dear.” Jeannie waved Glenna and Broderick into the office and Jack closed the door behind them, clicking the lock to ensure there would be no interruptions.
Glenna swayed and Broderick palmed her waist. She couldn’t help but be grateful for the momentary steadying, even as his hand seared her.
Jack raised one eyebrow before saying, “Let’s all have a seat.”
Glenna self-consciously stepped away from Broderick, the tingle of his touch lingering.
The Steele patriarch pulled one of the green club chairs closer to the other, then touched Jeannie’s arm lightly as she took her seat. He eyed the sofa, making it clear that Broderick and Glenna were to park themselves on it like two kids waiting to be put in their place.
Broderick still wasn’t speaking, although he settled beside her on the apple-green sofa. Glenna couldn’t get a read on him, but then her brain was jumbled again just by the simple brush of his knee against hers.
What the hell was it with the Steele men?
Her mother and Jack were now holding hands like teenagers. It was sweet—sort of—but still such a jarring sight. “Mom, I know this is your personal business and I don’t want to pry, but you have to understand how confusing this is, given our families’ histories.”
“I realize this is more than a little awkward, Glenna, and we’d hoped to talk to everyone as a family soon.”
Broderick tapped the file against his leg. “Talk to us about...which part? The relationship between the two of you, or is there something else you want to share? Something, say, business related.”
Jack’s thumb caressed Jeannie’s wrist. “We want you both to know that this has come as a surprise to us, as well. Nothing happened while either of us was still married. We were very happy in our marriages.”
Her mom leaned forward, reaching out to Glenna. “I loved your father, you know that. I still do.”
Jack cleared his throat. “Son, you understand how...difficult... How...your mother’s death...”
Looking over with a sympathetic smile, Jeannie squeezed his hand before continuing, “Jack and I have spent a lot of time together these past months dealing with different EPA issues and concerns with the economy.”
“But our companies are in competition,” Glenna pointed out, still not understanding the situation.
“Our companies were eating each other alive. We would have been at risk from a takeover by Johnson Oil United. Their CEO, Ward Benally, has been making acquisitions and filings on their behalf that are concerning. We decided, out of a love for what we’ve built and for our home state, that we needed to talk.”
Talk? Glenna couldn’t help but note, “Clearly you’ve been doing more than talking.”
After the words fell out, she winced at her own lack of diplomacy.
Her mother, however, laughed with a light snort. “Clearly. We were as surprised as you are.” She tipped her head to the side. “Well, maybe not literally as surprised as the two of you were when you opened that bathroom door.”
Jeannie’s mouth twitched at the corners, then laughter rolled out of her. Jack’s deep chuckles joined hers and they exchanged an unmistakably intimate look as they sagged back into the chairs, hands still linked.
For some reason, that moment made Glenna far more uncomfortable than seeing them in towels earlier. This was about more than sex. This truly was a relationship, a connection, something she didn’t have in her life anymore, now that her husband was dead.
She might not have been married as long as her mother, but Glenna understood the pain of widowhood. And her deepest regret beyond losing him? She didn’t even have a child of theirs to love.
Glenna pinched two fingers to the bridge of her nose, pressing against the corners of her eyes, where tears welled. So much loss.
