evidently had taught her the value of a proper education.'
He glanced over the report in the folder. 'It seems that all three of them are hard workers. Not a slacker among them,' he added with emphasis. 'The oldest, Kiera, received a full scholarship to a good university and graduated with honors. She received another scholarship to medical school and is doing exceptionally well. The middle girl, Kate, is the entrepreneur in the family. She, too, received a full scholarship to one of the finest universities in the east and also graduated with honors. She started a business while she was still in school, and today her company is growing and on its way to being very successful.' He looked back at the camera. 'It appears she is most like me.'
'Isabel, the youngest, is certainly intelligent as well, but her true talent is her voice. I understand she is quite gifted.' He tapped the report with his index finger. 'Isabel plans to study music and history at the university, and it is her desire to one day go to Scotland to meet her distant relatives.' He nodded. 'This news pleases me considerably.
'And now to the changes in my will.' The corners of his mouth lifted slightly in an almost imperceptible, devious smile. It faded as he continued. 'Bryce and Roger and Ewan will each receive one hundred thousand dollars in cash immediately. It is my hope that the money will be spent on rehabilitation, but I doubt that will happen. Vanessa will also receive one hundred thousand, and she will get this house. She deserves at least that much for having put up with Bryce these past years. She has brought respect to the MacKenna name through her work with various charities and in the community, so I don't see any sense in punishing her for her choice of husbands.
'Now to the other MacKennas. I've signed over all my treasury bonds to Kiera. The maturity dates are outlined in the will. Isabel, a history buff like me, will receive Glen MacKenna. There are stipulations that go along with it, of course, and she will be apprised of these in due time. This is all they are to receive from me, but I believe I have been more than generous.'
His breathing became labored and he stopped to take another drink of water, emptying the glass before he finished speaking.
'Finally, to the bulk of my estate, my assets calculated to be worth eighty million dollars. This is the accumulation of my life's work and it will be passed on to my blood relations, but I'll be damned if I'll just hand it over to my depraved nephews, and so it will go to Kate MacKenna. She is the most driven of the whole lot and, like me, knows the value of money. If she chooses this legacy, it's all hers.
'I trust that she will not squander it.'
Chapter Two
Kate Mackenna's wonderbra saved her life. Five minutes after she'd put the thing on, she wanted to take it off. She never should have let her sister Kiera talk her into wearing it. Yes, it did make her look voluptuous and sexy, but was that the message she wanted to send tonight? She was a businesswoman, for Pete's sake, not a porn star. Besides, without the push-'em-up-and-out bra she was already sufficiently endowed.
And why was Kiera so hell-bent on 'sexing her up'-as she so eloquently put it? Was Kate's social life that much of a dud? Apparently her sisters thought so.
Of the three sisters Kiera was the oldest and the bossiest. She had vowed she'd get Kate to wear the little, black, way-too-snug cocktail dress or die trying. Isabel, the youngest, had sided with Kiera, but then she always did, and Kate had finally given in and put on the silk dress just to get them to stop nagging her. When the two of them ganged up on her, they were a force to be reckoned with-a loud, unrelenting force.
Kate stood in front of the mirror in the foyer tugging on the bra in an attempt to get it to stop digging into her ribs, but her efforts were useless. She checked the time and decided if she hurried she could change, but when she turned to go back up to her room, Kiera walked down the stairs.
'You look great,' Kiera said after giving her sister the onceover.
'You look tired.' Kate was stating the obvious. There were dark circles under Kiera's eyes. She'd just gotten out of the shower, and her blond hair was dripping on her shoulders. Kate didn't think she'd even bothered to towel it dry. Her sister wasn't wearing an ounce of makeup, but she still looked beautiful. She was a natural beauty, like their mother had been.
'I'm a medical student. I'm supposed to look sleep-deprived. It's a requirement. I'd get tossed out if I looked rested.'
Despite their pestering, Kate was happy to be with her two sisters again, even if it was for only a couple of weeks. They had had little time together after their mother died. Kate had returned to Boston to finish her graduate degree, and Kiera had gone back to medical school at Duke while Isabel remained at home with their aunt Nora.
Kate was now home permanently, but Kiera, after two weeks off, would be returning to Duke again, and Isabel would be heading to her first year of college. The changes were inevitable, Kate presumed. Life should move forward.
'While you're home you ought to take a day and go to the beach… you know, relax. Take Isabel with you,' Kate urged.
Kiera laughed. 'Nice try. You're not going to unload her on me, even if it's just for a day. I'd spend the entire time fighting off the boys chasing after her. No, thank you. It's bad enough right here with the phone calls. There's some guy named Reece in particular. He seems to think he's Isabel's boyfriend. Isabel said she worked at a couple of concerts with him, and they went out a few times, but it was nothing serious. She stopped seeing him when he wanted to be more than friends. Now he's calling here nonstop wanting to talk to her, and because Isabel refuses to take his calls, he's becoming more and more belligerent. I love Isabel dearly, but sometimes I think she can make life just a little too complicated. So, thanks for the suggestion about the beach, but no thanks.'
Kate tugged on her bra again.
'Oh, that's lovely,' Kiera said.
'This contraption is killing me. I can't breathe.'
'You look gorgeous, and isn't that more important than breathing?' she teased. 'Suck it up. It's for a good cause.'
'What's the cause?'
'You. You're my cause these days. Isabel's, too. We're determined to lighten you up. You're way too serious for your own good. I personally think you suffer from middle-child syndrome. You know, you're filled with insecurities and phobias, and you have this need to constantly prove yourself.'
Kate decided to ignore her. She put her small clutch bag down on the table and went to the closet.
'You're textbook material,' Kiera continued.
'That's nice.'
'You're not listening to me, are you?'
Kate was saved from responding when the phone rang. While Kiera hurried into the den to answer it, she opened the closet door and began to search for her raincoat. The television was blaring away in the kitchen, and she could hear the obscenely cheerful weatherman gleefully remind his audience that Charleston was still in the throes of a heat wave unlike anything the city had seen in thirty years. If the temperature remained in the high nineties for just two more days, a new record would be set. The possibility made the weatherman sound giddy with excitement.
The humidity was the real killer, though. The air was heavy, stagnant, and as thick as glue. The steam curling up from the sidewalks and streets mingled with the pollution hanging like a hazy specter over the airless city. One strong gust of wind would help clear the sky, but neither wind nor rain was predicted anytime soon. Unless one was acclimated, taking a deep breath required concentration. The muggy air drained the young and the old, and left everyone lethargic. Swatting a mosquito away required more energy than most people were willing to exert.
Yet as horribly hot as it was, the party Kate had promised to attend was still being held outside on the grounds of a privately owned art gallery. The event had been planned weeks ago, and the white tent had been erected before the weather turned so oppressive. Only one wing of the newly constructed gallery was completed, and Kate knew it wasn't large enough to accommodate the expected crowd.
There was no getting out of it. The owner, Carl Bertolli, was a friend of Kate's. She knew it would hurt his
