Serenity's Deception (Texas Sorority Sisters Book 1) (2 page)

F
acing Jace across a conference table wasn’t exactly how BJ envisioned meeting him again after leaving town. If only she’d listened to her first instincts to throw the letter into the trash and ignore this meeting altogether, she wouldn’t be here in uncharted territory facing who knows what.

“Excellent. You’re here.” Mr. Hampton stood, moved toward Jace, extending his hand.

The lawyer’s voice broke the silent spell Jason held over BJ. In its place, insecurities rushed in. She gave herself a good mind-thrashing for allowing this irritatingly, handsome man to dredge up past regrets and reduce her to a mindless idiot.

Jace accepted the lawyer’s brief handshake, and then gazed about the room, this time skimming over BJ as though she were a fixture.

“Have a seat, Jason.” Horace T. motioned to a chair at the end of the table. “We haven’t begun yet, so you haven’t missed a thing. You know Ms. Spencer?”

“I
used
to.” He gave a perfunctory nod somewhere in her vicinity.

Jace’s choice of greeting offended. BJ decided with his cold reception she’d follow Horace T.’s example. She wouldn’t use his nickname. Jace had been a friend. This man in front of her was a complete stranger. “Nice to see you again, Jason.”

They may not have spoken since the day she’d left town, but they
had
been friends.
No
. More than friends.

Evidently, unlike hers, his recollection of their past left a bitter taste. There were a few bad remembrances of her own if she wished to dig them up from their burial place, which she didn’t. The pleasant embers of her memories turned cold, yet she displayed a warm smile to hide the hurt.

He strolled toward her, the golden replica of a longhorn shimmered from his silver belt buckle. Jason was all spit and polish—starched, button-down white shirt, ironed and creased dark-blue jeans, highly polished boots. He wasn’t your typical cowboy and his clothes were definitely not the general store variety. Not a whole lot different than how she remembered him. However, back then, BJ could never measure up to his parents’ expectations. But to Jason it never mattered.

Her eyes wandered to his left hand ring finger. He wore no wedding band.

Now why would I care to look?

Instead of taking the chair indicated, he sat one seat away from BJ, shoving back from the table. He held an advantage. Jason could easily watch her, but she couldn’t see him without turning in his direction. The knowledge chafed. To be in such a vulnerable position, maddening.

Taking a silent, calming breath, she turned her attention on the lawyer. Never one for tiptoeing or inching her way into a cold stream or a cool situation, as soon as the attorney was seated, BJ plunged in.

“Mr. Hampton, I would like to know what exactly does Ms. Madelyne’s death and Heritage House have to do with me?” She bit her tongue to keep from asking,
and why is Jason here
?

Horace T. shifted the papers in front of him in a rough manner. “I’ll give you the answers in a moment if you’ll be patient.” His voice held a cold edge which BJ resented. But when he gave her a look of irritation she held barely back her temper. Apparently, he didn’t like being questioned by a woman and wasn’t about to divulge anything before he was good and ready.

“I agree. What are
we
doing here, Hampton? I thought my aunt’s will was straight forward.”

Though the deep voice was familiar to BJ, the sound had lost its innocence. She’d never heard the hard, cynical edge before. But even that didn’t stop an inward quiver from doing a number up her spine as she worked to keep the deep-rooted memories tucked where they belonged. Surprised to find Jason didn’t know any more about why they were here than she did, BJ was apprehensive to what was about to take place.

The lawyer cleared his throat, folded his hands on the table, and glanced over at BJ. “I’ll start first with the reading of Mrs. Loveless’ will. When I’m through you will have all the answers to your questions.” Horace T. lifted the document and began to drone on.

Maintaining focus was hard due to Jason’s close proximity. She became aware of his slightest movements—his fingers tapping the leather armrest with impatience, his booted-ankle coming to rest on his knee, that same foot anxiously bouncing up and down.

BJ did her best to listen to Horace T. and ignore the distracting hint of Jason’s spicy cologne. The lawyer mentioned several bequests to individuals BJ knew from her past at Heritage House, and some she didn’t.

As a small child growing up in Heritage House, BJ had been taught that her very existence came from Ms. Madelyne’s benevolence. Not only the owner of the orphanage, she was also the last known heir to a vast fortune built by the founder of Serenity, Texas, Seth Loveless.

When Horace T. reached
divided between Billy Jo Spencer and Jason Lynn O’Connell …
BJ couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath nor the word,
what?

The booted foot resting on Jason’s knee smacked the floor. He leapt from the chair, palms on the table, arms bracing his body as he leaned in dangerously close to Horace T.’s face.

“What in Sam-Hill is going on?” He swung around, eyes glaring straight at BJ pinning her to the chair. “Did you know about this?”

Stunned, BJ shook her head before anger kicked in loosening her tongue.

“What makes you think I would know anything about this? I just got into town less than a half hour ago. I hardly knew Ms. Mad—Mrs. Loveless, except for her weekly visits to Heritage House.”

Sending an angry look in his direction, she wished herself as far from this insanity as possible. “If I’d had anything to do with it—” She pointed at the document. “—I would have chosen to receive the whole estate, not just a portion. Who in their right mind would want to share when they could have it all?”

A smirk rode Jason’s lips. “My sentiments exactly.”

She couldn’t tell if he was laughing at her or being sarcastic. BJ hoped her practiced smile would disguise the turmoil and the stampede of questions trampling through her mind.

Scooting forward in her chair, she did her best to look around Jason. She could feel the three fine lines between her brows pull together and tighten. “Mr. Hampton, would you explain what this means?”

He sent a scathing look in her direction. “If you’ll allow me to finish reading the will without interruption, everything will be explained to the fullest. Hopefully, then you will be able to understand.”

The man’s condescending manner had BJ wanting to do him bodily harm. A well-placed fist in the eye might help clear up his misconception that she lacked the ability to spar with the best of them.

“No call for that, Hampton. Get on with it.”

Jason’s surly tone and hard glare had Horace T. shifting his glasses up the bridge of his nose, nervously searching the document.

Slipping back into his chair, Jason looked at her as though he’d just recognized who she was then he fixed his eyes on the lawyer.

Speechless to find Jason coming to her defense was one thing, but was that pity she saw in his gaze? Good gracious, she hoped not. Sympathy was the last thing she wanted from him or anyone else.

A nervous laugh rose in her throat, but she dampened the urge. This wasn’t the time to become unhinged or hysterical. Just because Jason and she happened to be on the same page didn’t mean the story would end with happily ever after. Clasping her shaky hands in her lap, she waited for the lawyer to comply, making sure her eyes didn’t stray to Jason.

Skimming his bony index finger down the page, Horace T. found his place and began to read again.

This time, BJ took special care to listen for the
worldly goods
part. Sure enough, he read the words again then added …
to share and share alike, with the following provisos. Proviso one: Billy Jo Spencer and Jason Lynn O’Connell must serve on the Board of Directors of Heritage House and provide funds for the day-to-day operations for one year, after which, if they so desire, Heritage House may be closed. Proviso two: both recipients must reside at Rose Mansion for a period of no less than one year.

“I beg your pardon?” BJ shifted in her chair, her stomach nauseated from her sparse breakfast. She couldn’t have heard him correctly, but her gut told her she had. BJ didn’t like the sounds of this. Even if she took the gift, there’d be no way she would move into Rose Mansion with Jason. “This is ridiculous! I—”

With the swipe of his hand, Jason motioned her silent. “And what happens to my aunt’s estate and Heritage House if we don’t comply, or if Billy Jo decides to skip town
again
?” He threw a pointed look in her direction, causing BJ’s cheeks to sizzle along with her temper.

The lawyer continued …
if either fails to fulfill their obligation under the terms of this will … Heritage House will be closed, and all my estate, except for the proviso and bequests to others heretofore said, will go to the town of Serenity …

Jason’s hand slammed down on the table, harder this time. The glasses clinked together and water sloshed out of the pitcher splashing down onto the tray.

BJ’s body gave an involuntary jerk. She scooted back tight against the side of the chair away from Jason, wondering how she happened into this nightmare.

Again Jason towered over the table, leaning dangerously close to Horace T. “What is this farce? Who thought up this ridiculous idea, y
ou
or my aunt?”

B
J’s stillness belied the unease just below the surface. Acid bubbled up, tore through her stomach, and left a burning trail of fire in its wake. She wished she could rub and soothe away the pain but knew relief would come only in the form of an antacid tablet and quitting the room entirely. The last she wouldn’t do.

Her unsettled nerves were all Jason’s doing. Well, not if she were truthful. The will played a factor in trying to mess up her comfortable life. But to know that Jason was having as much difficulty over this business caused her to regard him more closely.

Mr. Hampton stiffened and said, “This was entirely your aunt’s idea. I would never presume to—”

“Let me see if I understand this correctly.” Jason pointed toward the will as though it were a mangy, ringworm-infested animal. “That will dictates
we
both serve on the Board of Directors for Heritage House and reside at Rose Mansion for one year together …
correct
?”

“Yes.” A lesser man would have been weary but Horace T. took Jason’s lethal tone in stride.

“And if we don’t, Heritage House will be closed, and we will lose our portion of the inheritance, correct?” The vain in Jason’s neck bulged, ticking like a time bomb. His calm words were at odds with his steely eyes.

BJ had seen that same glare before, eons ago in seventh grade when Robert Daley called her a throw away. The next day at school, Robert sported a black eye and apologized to BJ.

When she asked Jason what happened, he answered,
he learned manners,
then winked.

“Precisely.” Horace T. tapped the document with the tip of his fingernail. “Outside of the bequests to employees, it’s as you say. There are, of course, a few other provisos.”

“Of course there are. What would make me think there weren’t?” Jason narrowed his eyes, arching his brow. “Would you like to explain what those
provisos
might be?”

The lawyer cleared his throat and tugged at his necktie. “Certainly.” Horace T. fidgeted again with the papers then looked at Jason. “You must sit on the board, reside—”

“You mentioned that already. What else?”

“You both must move into the mansion no later than the fifteenth, which by my calculations is in exactly twenty-six days, or the bequests are null and void.”

“I refuse. I don’t care what you do with the money or any of it. Give it to Jason. It should have all gone to him in the first place. He’s family. Not me.” BJ stood, grabbed the strap of her handbag. “I believe I’m done here.”

Horace T. scrambled upward. “You don’t understand. You can’t leave.”

“I walked in here under my own power and I can walk out the same way.” She moved to leave but his anxious gaze gave BJ pause.

“You don’t know what’s at stake.” The lawyer motioned for BJ to be reseated. “Please. Hear me out. What you decide doesn’t just affect you but Jason and the orphanage as well.”

Looking at Jason, BJ saw the challenge in his eyes.

“Ms. Spencer, if you don’t accept the bequest—”

“Everything goes to Serenity.” Jason finished flatly, his eyes never leaving her face.

Horace T. sat down. His hand swiped his forehead. Silence hung thick in the room.

BJ mulled over the information. She couldn’t live here for one year when she had a life in Galveston and a prosperous gallery on The Strand. Even now some of her photo-art was displayed at the Texas Museum in Austin. There’d be no way she could afford to go into obscurity just when everything was coming together.

But what about Heritage House?

She knew from firsthand experience the town disliked having Heritage children fed into Serenity schools for their education. Though untrue, they reasoned orphans brought an unsavory element among their children and into their little community. The town would be happy to see the home closed. Even she’d been chased out of town as a teen by the town’s finest. And they could very well get their wish if she walked away. They would definitely have cause to celebrate—twofold it would seem.

“Ms. Spencer?” Horace T.’s strident voice brought BJ out of her thoughts.

“I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

“I asked
do you have any questions?”

“Yes. What will happen to the children at Heritage if I don’t choose to take the bequest?”

“They will be placed upon the county for disbursement to homes or other facilities that will take them.” Horace T. didn’t seem too affected by children’s plight.

“How long do I have before I need to give you my answer?”

“You have until the fifteenth to be settled into Rose Mansion.”

“What happens to the property holdings and notes payable to the estate?”

Jason’s calm question drew BJ’s attention. She could tell the answer Horace T. gave would be important to him.

“If the bequest is forfeited, most certainly the notes will be called in for liquidation and holdings sold off to meet the financial obligation to the town.”

“Everything? Personal loans and all?” His eyes bore into Horace T.

“Everything.” The lawyer sent a knowing look in Jason’s direction. “However, if there isn’t a forfeit, it will be left up to you and Ms. Spencer whether you call in the notes or sell off the holdings after the one-year period.”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck, a frown in place.

Something had gone unsaid. By their expressions, she could tell both men were doing their best not to be explicit. However, she reasoned their hinted exchange dealt with probably a note or some property of Jason’s indebted to the estate.

Didn’t matter. She couldn’t live in the same house for any amount of money, regardless how big the rambling mansion might be. He’d shown his contempt for her already for what had taken place when she was barely more than a child.

What about the children, BJ?

I can’t.

Even as the words filtered through her mind, she knew better. She couldn’t abandon the children to such a fate.

“One proviso I have yet to mention.” Horace T. looked at Jason then her. “Rose Mansion. The family estate home, furnishings, and everything on the premises, along with five hundred thousand dollars, will go to Ms. Spencer regardless.”

BJ sat up straighter. “What?”

Jason’s sarcastic
humph
spoke loud and clear what he thought of her inheritance.

The lawyer looked at Jason. “And regardless, you will receive five hundred thousand.”

“What, no stipulations attached?” Jason wore a scornful smile.

“None.” Horace T. moved the document aside, folded his hands in front of him.

Rose Mansion … mine? Why not Jason’s? After all, he’s the relative. Maybe not by blood, but certainly much closer to Ms. Madelyne than she.

“Nothing else?” Jason’s sarcasm hung in the air.

“No. Nothing more is mentioned.”

“So much for …” He gave a quick glance at BJ, shook his head, and didn’t finish.

“If either of you default, the balance of the estate will go to the citizens of Serenity, plain and simple.” Horace T. took a deep breath.

“There’s nothing plain and simple about this whole ridiculous situation. A default is sure to happen.” Again he shot BJ a look.

The lawyer mopped his brow with a white hankie he’d dug out of the inside of his coat pocket. “You can’t let that happen.”

Jason slung his arm back in BJ’s general direction. “Give her Rose Mansion and what money comes with it. I say good riddance to it all. My aunt’s requirements ask too much of me.” He rounded the table, his steps heavy. He stopped in front of the window, fists clenched, knuckles white.

What makes him think I would want Rose Mansion?
For all she knew the house could be riddled with termites and in need of more repairs than the five hundred thousand she’d receive. Did he even ask if she needed the proceeds from the estate? No. He couldn’t be concerned enough. He didn’t give a flip about what she did or didn’t want. He didn’t even seem troubled about the children at Heritage. They’d be uprooted from the familiar into the unknown and no doubt shifted from home to home.

Vengeful. Hateful. Selfish pig.
Names continued to roll through her like an avalanche, growing with intensity, gathering power, causing destruction along the way.

Men! Do they ever think of anyone but themselves?

Jason used to be different. What made him change? Surely, he couldn’t be holding a grudge for what happened between them years ago. Yet this had to be the only rational explanation for his callous lack of consideration for her or the children’s wants or desires.

BJ looked elsewhere not caring to watch Jason’s ridged, unyielding back.

 “Jason. Listen to reason.” Suffused with color, Horace T. looked as though he’d swallowed a persimmon and the effects made him ill. “
We’re not talking about a piddl
y sum here. We’re still working to obtain a more accurate figure but—” He stopped and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbled. “—the assets were at the seven hundred million mark at last accounting four days ago. And with appraisals of property, oil wells, futures, and whatnot, the assets are thought to well exceed the one billion mark.”