“Since you’re the one who’s always telling me not to meddle, I’ll turn the tables and tell you the same thing. Connor will do whatever he wants to do. We can’t influence him. We should both know that by now.”
“It’s just so sad, and I feel as if it’s all our fault for setting the example that made him so cynical.”
“We may have laid the groundwork, but it’s his job that’s sealed the deal,” Mick complained. “I wish he’d come back here and set up a law practice. For one thing, it would put him and Heather in close proximity. With the strong bond they already have over their son, I think that’s all it would take to get them back together.”
“What kind of law could Connor practice in Chesapeake Shores? Real estate closings and wills? Defending people ticketed for traffic violations?” Megan scoffed.
“It would be an improvement over what he’s doing now,” Mick insisted.
“I don’t disagree, but you know our son, Mick. He’d be bored to tears in a few weeks.”
“Not if he’s back with his family,” Mick said.
Megan regarded him incredulously. “Surely you know better than that. You had your very large family right here, and that wasn’t enough to keep you from chasing from one end of the country to the other on development jobs. You needed the challenge those jobs provided. Connor’s the same. He needs to have a demanding, fulfilling career.”
“My work was entirely different,” Mick claimed. “That’s just the nature of the kind of architecture and urban design I did. I had to go where the work was.”
Megan backed down. “Fair enough. Let’s not have that discussion again at this late date. I’m just saying that Connor’s a lot like you. He needs a challenge. As much as I’d love to have him living here, I don’t know if he’d find that kind of challenge practicing law in Chesapeake Shores.”
But Mick already had his teeth into the idea. “I’m pretty sure old man Porter’s going to retire one of these days. The town will be without an attorney. Oh, there are others in nearby towns, of course, but people like trusting their business to someone they know. Seems like the perfect opportunity for a young man just starting out.”
“Do you really believe that Connor will trade the partnership he’s worked so hard for in a prestigious Baltimore law firm for a private practice in Chesapeake Shores? He’s ambitious, Mick.”
“Only one way to find out,” Mick said, not backing down.
Megan frowned at him. “Don’t you dare go to Joshua Porter and try to manipulate him into offering some deal to Connor.”
“Of course not,” Mick said indignantly. “Porter and I are barely on speaking terms, anyway.” He winked at her. “I’ll send Ma. He’s handled her legal affairs for years.”
“Please don’t drag Nell into this,” she pleaded.
“I won’t ‘drag’ her into anything. I’ll plant the idea. She’ll do what she wants to do.” He gave her a knowing look. “You should understand all about that kind of thing. You planted the notions that had Kevin and the others luring Connor down here to discover Heather was living in Chesapeake Shores, did you not? You’re not above a little meddling, Megan O’Brien, so don’t pretend you are.”
“Guilty,” she admitted. “I just worry that one of these days it will all blow up in our faces.”
“Then it’s a good thing we’ll be out of town,” he said, grinning. “Now, why don’t you forget all that packing that seems to have you completely befuddled and come over here?”
She saw the glint in his eyes and immediately felt her blood stir. Someone, though, had to be practical. “But we’re leaving tomorrow,” she protested.
“And whatever there’s no time to pack, we can buy in Paris. We’ll find you a whole new wardrobe from the skin out,” he said, reaching for her and pulling her into his lap. “Then, again, we could spend the whole vacation naked. It is, after all, our honeymoon.”
She settled against his chest. “If you think I’m going to miss one single second of Paris by staying shut up in a hotel room, you’re crazy as a loon, Mick O’Brien.”
He laughed. “If that’s the case, all the more reason to start the honeymoon now.”
She smiled at his eagerness. “You have a point.”
When Mick kissed her, she forgot all about Connor, packing and even Paris. And that was probably exactly what he’d intended.
* * *
The mediation with Clint and Barbara Wilder was not going according to plan. Armed with reports from his private investigation that showed Mrs. Wilder had, in fact, come from a troubled past, Connor had pressed her attorney for a meeting and a quick, amicable settlement. The director’s wife had flown in from Los Angeles on the red-eye and arrived in his office looking exhausted.
A petite wisp of a woman with eyes too big for her small face, Barbara Wilder looked fragile and younger than her years. That weariness and impression of fragility vanished in a heartbeat, though, when Clint walked into the conference room. She stood up straighter and stared him down, fiery sparks of anger in her eyes. Her attorney gently touched her arm and she sat back down.
“Babs,” Wilder said coolly. “You look beat.”
“How gallant of you to mention it,” she retorted. “You beckoned. I came. Let’s get this over with.”
For one brief instant, Connor thought he saw an unsettled expression in his client’s eyes, as if he’d never expected his wife to have any fight left. Before Wilder could respond and start an argument, Connor stepped in.
“I believe all of us want to wrap this up as fairly as possible,” he began.
“Maybe you do,” Barbara Wilder snapped. “I doubt Clint does—not if that offer he put on the table is any indication.”
“It’s a generous offer,” Connor insisted.
She whirled on him. “In what universe? We have documents showing the millions of dollars in assets he’s hidden away. Has he mentioned those to you? Did he admit to you the long list of
