the result is that he has cheesecake in his hair,” Lang concluded matter-of-factly, and then steered the conversation to what he’d come to his grandmother’s house to discuss in the first place. “Because apparently you didn’t think it was enough to throw me into the deep end with him, you also thought this would be a good time for me to take my turn at your project of making amends.”
Camden Incorporated had been founded and built by Lang’s great-grandfather, H. J. Camden. A scrappy man who had been willing to do just about anything to accomplish his goals.
The family loved H.J., and had hoped that the rumors and suspicions that he had been ruthless and unscrupulous were false. They’d also hoped that the suspicions that his son Hank and his two grandsons had acted as H.J.’s henchmen were false, too. But the recent discovery of H.J.’s journals had left them with no illusions. Camden Incorporated had been built by methods the current Camdens weren’t proud of.
GiGi and her ten grandchildren had set out to make amends to people harmed by H.J., Hank, Mitchum and Howard’s actions, or to the families and descendants who might have suffered as a result.
GiGi decided which of her grandchildren to send on each particular mission. Part of her reasoning being to learn what harm had been done then to offer an opportunity of some kind that might benefit and compensate without appearing to be an outward admission of guilt and an offer of restitution. Their fear was that any public admission of guilt might inspire unwarranted lawsuits against them.
This was why Lang had approached Heddy Hanrahan on Monday.
“Maybe juggling so much will actually be good for you,” GiGi said. “Sometimes having your hands full forces the walls to come down.”
Lang wondered if his grandmother was thinking about herself when she said that. She had opened up her home and herself to ten grandchildren when they landed on her doorstep. As a result, he, his sisters and cousins had been well cared for and had experienced a warm, loving upbringing. But even if that was what she was trying to accomplish for Carter, Lang was still completely overwhelmed and he couldn’t say he liked the position she was putting him in all the way around.
“Now tell me what happened with the Hanrahan girl so you can get that boy home and cleaned up,” GiGi commanded.
Lang saw that nothing he said was going to gain him any help with Carter so he proceeded to outline how his meeting with Heddy Hanrahan had gone for his grandmother.
“I don’t think there’s any doubt that she’s going under if she doesn’t take the deal, but she’s leery of us,” he concluded.
“Of course she would be, it goes with the territory,” GiGi said. “But you told her she can have everything in writing?”
“I did. And even though she seemed on the verge of saying no, I got her to think the proposition over. I’m going back after work tomorrow to see what she has to say.”
“Do you think she knows about her mother and your father?”
Lang shrugged. “I have no clue. We only talked business. And Carter ate a lot of cheesecake. We tried two varieties, and that magazine article was right—they’re terrific. We won’t have any problem selling them for sure.”
“And beyond the fact that she didn’t jump at the chance to go into business with us, how was your reception otherwise?”
“Okay,” Lang said. “It wasn’t what Jani met from Gideon that first time she approached him. Heddy Hanrahan doesn’t seem to hate us the way Gideon did initially.”
His cousin Jani had been dispatched on the last of these ventures, and the man she’d encountered during the course of that—Gideon Thatcher—had not been happy to have any contact with a Camden.
“I could tell that Heddy was shocked when I introduced myself,” Lang went on, “but she didn’t tell us to get out or anything. And when I asked her to sit and talk, she did. She was actually fairly friendly—cautious but nice enough.”
“Did you learn anything about her or her family? Is her mother still around? Is she married? Divorced? Widowed?”
“She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.”
“You met her mother?”
Somehow they were on different tracks. “No,” Lang said, “I didn’t meet anyone but Heddy. I meant Heddy wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Her mother wasn’t around and didn’t come up.”
Lang wasn’t sure if he’d misunderstood his grandmother because of the way she’d asked the questions or if it was just that he had Heddy Hanrahan on the brain. Because despite the fact that his hands had been full with Carter, his head had been full of Heddy Hanrahan since meeting her.
Thoughts of her had been creeping up on him every time he turned around. Thoughts and images of her. Of that lush red hair—not carrot-colored at all, but a deep, dark, rich mahogany red. Beautiful. She had beautiful hair. Wavy and thick.
And it wasn’t only her hair that had had him sneaking peeks of her when he should have been keeping closer tabs on Carter—which was how Carter had ended up with cheesecake in his hair in the first place. Heddy Hanrahan also had the most flawless peaches-and-cream skin he’d ever seen, and luminous hazel eyes with bright green flecks.
Plus she had a face that was as delicate as fine china: a gently curved brow; high, pronounced cheekbones; a thin, straight nose; and a mouth that sported such pink kissable lips….
Not that he’d had any thought of kissing her, for crying out loud, because he hadn’t. He was just trying to do business with her, to compensate her and maybe the rest of her family, for what had happened to them years ago.
Okay, so he’d also taken enough of a look at her compact little body to know it was great, too—with curves in all the right places—but that didn’t mean he’d itched to touch her.
Although yeah, maybe a little part of him had. But it didn’t mean anything.
“Heddy Hanrahan didn’t mention her mother at all?” GiGi’s voice pulled him out of the reverie he’d slipped into.
“No,” Lang answered in a hurry, hoping he didn’t seem dazed. “We only talked business. You said you couldn’t find an obituary for her mother, so she must be around somewhere, but she didn’t come up.” Then something occurred to him that rocked him. “Heddy Hanrahan couldn’t be my half sister, could she?”
“Don’t be silly,” GiGi chastised. “The article said she was thirty. It’s been thirty-six years since Mitchum was involved with her mother. I was just hoping to hear that her mother was still happily married to her father and had had a good life after what went on with your dad.”
A good life after what went on …
That was what they hoped for in all of these cases— to discover that the people burned by dealing with the Camdens in the past had gone on to bigger and better things and not suffered long-term negative effects.
“So she’s pretty, is she?” GiGi said then.
“Beautiful,” Lang said, putting it out front so GiGi couldn’t think it made any difference to him. “Why? Would we not be offering her this deal if she was homely as hell?”
