In his office Sara Lynn regarded him warily, while the stranger, Daniel Featherstone, grabbed his hand and pumped it enthusiastically.
“You’re not going to regret this,” he claimed.
Kevin glanced at Bobby Ray. “Oh, really,” he said wryly.
“Everything was spelled out in those contracts I left for you,” Bobby Ray reminded him. “You’ve looked them over, right?”
“I looked them over,” Kevin confirmed. Bobby Ray had managed to tailor the deal in his own favor without it being obvious. Too bad he hadn’t used that business acumen in some of his other pursuits.
“It’s a great deal, right?” Featherstone enthused. “Bobby Ray and I are going to get rich.”
Kevin doubted it, but the prospect of arguing with the man hardly seemed worth the effort. He regarded Sara Lynn intently, then exchanged a pointed look with Bobby Ray. “You’re sure you want to do this?”
“I’m sure,” his cousin insisted, keeping his gaze fixed on his wife.
Kevin sighed and pulled out the checkbook for the estate account. He scribbled in the exorbitant amount Bobby Ray needed to hang on to his wife, then handed it over. Everybody beamed, including Sara Lynn. Kevin scowled back.
“Out!” he ordered. “Now.”
Sara Lynn and her friend didn’t waste a second bolting from the room. Bobby Ray lingered.
“Thanks, Kevin.”
“Don’t thank me. I just pray you won’t live to regret it. For the life of me, I can’t figure out how you can choose a woman like that over Marianne.”
For an instant Bobby Ray’s expression turned wistful, then the flash of vulnerability was gone, replaced by his more typical cocky expression. “You always did have a soft spot for Marianne, Kev. Get over it. I did.”
For the first time in all the years since the messy divorce, Kevin wondered about that.
The meeting left him in a foul mood for the rest of the morning. He yelled at Molly, snapped at Aunt Delia, and told his secretary in Richmond not to bother him with things she could handle herself.
Why was he in such a lousy mood and taking it out on everyone around him? He knew better than to lay all the blame on Bobby Ray. The bulk of it belonged to Gracie.
Blame it on that smoldering kiss they’d shared right before he’d walked out on her. Blame it on the untimely call from Max and the promise—no, threat—of Max’s visit.
Blame it, ultimately, on the fact that he was losing his head over a woman he barely knew. He sighed and sipped his lemonade, wishing for once that it was something stronger, something that would dull his mind and make this hot ache in his loins go away.
“Okay, young man, what has you in such a snit?” Aunt Delia demanded, standing next to him, hands on hips and fire in her eyes.
Kevin opened one eye and peered at her. The effect of all that indignation was ruined a bit by the whimsical addition of a hot pink baseball cap someone had given her from the Saratoga racetrack and her matching hot-pink sneakers.
“Go away,” he ordered.
She stood her ground and impaled him with a blistering look. “Not until you tell me what’s going on. It’s one thing for you to bark at me or Bobby Ray, but Molly and that sweet lady in your office don’t deserve it.”
“I know it,” Kevin conceded with a sigh. “I’ll apologize. I’ll buy Molly that new food processor she wants and I’ll send Jane flowers.”
“And I’m sure they’ll appreciate the gesture, but I’d prefer it if you’d just tell me why you’re in such a mood.” She regarded him craftily. “Is it Gracie? Did you two have a fight?”
“No.”
“I don’t believe you. You were always a lousy fibber, Kevin Patrick. What’s Gracie done to upset you?”
He sat up with an air of resignation. “You aren’t going to leave this alone, are you?”
“No,” she said as emphatically as he had a moment earlier. She sat in a nearby Adirondack chair, folded her hands in her lap and regarded him patiently.
“Gracie’s having company,” he finally said.
“I see.”
“Her old boss. She thinks he’s just coming to try to persuade her to come back to work for him.”
“And you disagree?”
“The man has invented more crises than the Middle East has had since the beginning of time.”
“Maybe he depended on Gracie.”
“I’m sure he did. In fact, I know he’d be crazy if he didn’t want her back running that hotel of his.”
“Are you afraid she’s going to go?”
“Of course not. It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other whether she goes.”
“Nonsense. Of course, it matters. Any fool could take one look at you and see that it does.”
“I’m telling you I don’t give a damn what she does,” he repeated, as if saying it often enough could make it so. “I just don’t want her to get bamboozled into thinking that Max only wants her for her competent brain.”
“What makes you think he’s interested in something more?”
“Other than all those lame excuses he’s come up with for calling every day? I heard it in his voice.”
“You’ve talked to him?”
“Damn straight I’ve talked to him. I answered the phone the other day while he was leaving a message about our podunk little town.”
Aunt Delia grinned. “Yes, I can see why that might set you teeth on edge. What did he say to you?”
“Not too much, really. He seemed surprised, maybe a little irritated.” He paused thoughtfully. “Obviously he was a lot more than irritated since he’s flying over here to protect his turf, so to speak.”
“I’d say he must have responded to you picking up that call the same way you’re reacting to the news of his impending arrival,” Aunt Delia observed slyly.
Kevin scowled at her. “You don’t know everything, you know.”
“Sure, I do. I’m old. I’ve been around.”
“Oh, really? I thought you were a sweet, innocent spinster.”
“Show a little respect for your elders and don’t try to change the subject. What is it you’re really worried
