Serenity's Deception (Texas Sorority Sisters Book 1) (3 page)

R
eleasing a loud gasp caused BJ to choke, bringing about a series of sputtering, wheezing coughs. She knew Ms. Madelyne was wealthy, but this was insane. The choking fit brought about an immediate chain reaction from both men.

Jason moved in her direction then stopped when she waved him off. Through watery eyes, she watched his brows draw together in an angry line. His stormy blue gaze penetrated her through narrow slits, doing their best to delve deep inside to see if she were faking it, no doubt.

Or could he be hoping she’d strangle to death? If she did, at least his problems would be over. She’d be out of the equation for the division of the estate.

Doing her best to control her breathing and the spasms closing off her air passage, she croaked out, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to die.” Her throat wheezed as she gasped for more oxygen for her ravenous lungs.

Humph!
Jason mumbled under his breath, words she couldn’t hear and probably a good thing she hadn’t. Ignoring him would be best.

Horace T. handed her a glass of water and motioned to Jason. “Come. Sit down. Let’s discuss this rationally. I can explain how you can take care of your longhorns, run your business, and still inherit your half of the estate.”

While taking a sip from the tumbler and a few more calming breaths, BJ mulled over the insane figure Horace T. mentioned and the fact that Jason raised longhorns.

Jason was certainly entitled to the estate, but her? No way. She’s nothing—a nobody. Just a kid who left Serenity at seventeen and never returned until now. Could Mrs. Loveless have picked her name out of a hat from among all the orphans who passed through Heritage’s doors? Not likely.
But why pick me?

One half of the estate. Five hundred million and odd change.
Unfathomable
.

So what if she’s not a relative, did it matter?

Yes
.

The bequest would come part-and-parcel with Serenity and Jason. Serenity she might endure. Jason? She couldn’t risk such close proximity or daily contact, she wouldn’t survive. On her own, she’d done pretty well building a good life for herself. And her life didn’t include Serenity, him, or for that matter, any man.

She shut down her thoughts and began to pay attention to what Jason and Horace T. were discussing. They were conversing as though she weren’t in the room and could easily be persuaded to do their bidding. Incensed, BJ said the first thing that popped into her mind.

“And who said I would agree to this fool-hardy idea regardless how many millions are at stake?”

The room grew silent, like the calm in the eye of a hurricane.

Jason roiled on one side.

Horace T churned on the other.

BJ sat in the middle smiling inwardly.

Though she knew the storm still brewed and would probably hit with full force again, she held the edge, the power to move out of its way if she so desired, or stay put and hold on for dear life. And though she had pretty much made up her mind to stay and hold on, she wanted them to know she controlled her decision. Not Jason. Not Horace T. Not anyone but her.

She could walk away, but she knew she wouldn’t. Jason’s livelihood, for some inexplicable reason, appeared to be tied up with the estate. And no matter how much she wanted to run back to her safe haven, she wouldn’t leave Jason to suffer the consequences. Plus the money could help start more schools around Texas like her small school in Galveston.

 “Ms. Spencer, I-I … please don’t act hastily. Surely you don’t mean—”

“And if I do, it’s my choice alone to make.” BJ leveled her gaze at the attorney and drew herself as tall as she could in the chair relishing her power. She heard a soft chuckle coming from Jason’s direction, but she didn’t dare look.

“Please.” Horace T. fluttered his hand as though he could shoo away her errant behavior. “I’m sure something can be worked out.”

“Come, Jason. Sit down.” The lawyer waved him over to the table. “Let’s all discuss this calmly and responsibly. There’s too much at stake here. Too much lying on the table to walk away.”

Eyes intent on BJ, Jason ambled over to the seat he vacated earlier and had shoved halfway across the room. He pushed the chair up to the table, pulled out the one next to BJ sitting down, practically bumping elbows. His actions, along with his peculiar expression, sent mixed signals. If he were trying to intimidate her, he’d soon find out … BJ Spencer didn’t intimidate easily, regardless how handsome the bully.

She felt the heat radiating from his body. The scent of his cologne hung lightly in the air surrounding her, drawing her in. Visions of soft gulf breezes, sunsets, and romantic walks along the sandy beach played upon her mind. After a good mental shake, she thrust the images from her, but the side effects were harder to remove. The loss and longing lingered.

“Shall we continue?” Horace T. made a notation on a pad. “Jason, you’re looking at this all wrong. You can still run your ranch and your business. Your property is close enough to town it won’t be a hardship. Only sixty percent of your nights have to be spent at Rose Mansion to satisfy the letter of the law.”

Horace T.’s look darted to BJ. “The same would apply to you. There’d be no reason why you can’t continue to run your gallery and still do day travel. Same as now, your manager can take care of your little shop while you’re here for the year. After that …” The lawyer shrugged, turning his palms up.

BJ seethed that the lawyer had dug into her private affairs. He had no right. She would get to the bottom of who fed him details of her business. Also, she’d learn why Horace T. thought her business interesting enough to ferret out the facts.

“Maybe you won’t be able to go as far afield, but I’m sure you could work out the minute details to your satisfaction. With your money, airplanes, telephones, internet, it shouldn’t be a problem.” The attorney steepled his fingers in front of his smug lips, pleased with his easy dissolution of her
puny
problems.

“If I can run my business and live at Rose Mansion, she sure as blazes should be able to do the same.” Jason flashed her
I dare you to disagree
.

Grinding her teeth, she wanted to grab the glass of water and throw it in Jason’s face. Better yet, a slap across his smirky mouth would feel so much more satisfying.

She did neither.

Simmering at a steady boil, she pasted on a smile, and didn’t give a hint of what she’d really like to do to Mr. Jason Lynn O’Connell. And murder was high on her list.

Get a hold of yourself. Don’t let him affect you.

After all these years, how could he still manage to rile her temper? He did it often when they were teens. But back then he’d tease her out of her snit and they’d laugh and make up. Today Jason didn’t tease, and from the looks of it, there’d be no making up.

“I believe both of you can think this through. Work out the logistics of your separate lives.” He shot a look in her direction. “And what you may not realize, Ms. Spencer, Rose Mansion is huge. With two wings, east and west, thirteen suites to pick from, each with separate sitting room and bath, I dare say you would never see one another in the whole twelve months you lived there, unless you wanted to. And overseeing the orphanage would be easy and within walking distance if you chose.”

“It would have to be opposite wings of the mansion,
if
I were to consider the outrageous bequest. In fact, I would insist on it.” BJ sent a deliberate look in Jason’s direction.

“Definitely.” Jason crossed his arms, his elbow bumping hers.

She shifted farther away from Jason. Looking Horace T. straight in the eye, she said, “However, where Heritage House is concerned, I’ve lived there. I’ll take a look at the house first, but I’m sure I’ll want to incorporate changes.”

 “You’d be completely in charge.”

“Mr. Hampton.” BJ’s eyes never left the lawyer’s face. “Why are you pushing so hard for us to take the bequest? What’s in it for you?”

She could see her questions surprised him. “Nothing, outside of my executor’s fees the law allows. And the
why?
” He lifted his brow haughtily. “I want the satisfaction of a job completed as Mrs. Loveless would have wished.”

BJ couldn’t quite buy his answer. His look, mannerisms, even his words just didn’t ring true. Something niggled at her. However she didn’t pursue her questioning further. Another time.

The attorney cleared his throat. “There’s just one more minor point I should mention. If one of you were to die during the period of the year the survivor would immediately inherit his or her portion. But bear in mind, if one defaults, both will suffer the loss along with the orphanage. Win or lose, it’s your choice.”

Horace T. stood, picked up the papers and files. “I’ll leave you to discuss the matter for a few moments while Ms. Carter makes copies of the will. If you can’t make a decision before you leave here today, I advise you to at least read over the terms and conditions of the will when you get home. I should be able to call each of you with the finalized figure on the estate by Wednesday, Friday the latest. Hopefully, by then you will be persuaded to make the right decision.” Without another glance or word, Horace T. left them alone.

T
he moment the door shut, BJ desperately wished she could follow Horace T. and escape this nightmare. Acutely aware of the one hundred and eighty-plus pounds of pure masculine force sitting less than two inches from her elbow, she wished herself anywhere but here. Unmentionable reactions were happening to her just because of his nearness and she couldn’t afford for her feelings to be involved in her decision.

Her tongue thick, dry, and unable to swallow, she wanted,
no,
needed the glass of water sitting in front of her. But she couldn’t make her hand respond. Thoughts of excusing herself to the ladies’ room crossed her mind, but she nixed the idea. No. She’d stay glued to her chair, even if it killed her. And his nearness was doing just that, killing her inch by inch.

The quiet, interminable. Time, agonizingly slow. The silence so complete the methodical tick of the calendar clock from the other room sounded like the executioner’s drum. If he didn’t speak soon, permanent, irreversible damage would take place, and she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. She repressed the bubble of laughter at the mental picture of her jumping up from her chair and running out of the room screaming.

“What do you want to do?”                                                          

BJ almost jumped out of her skin, and then mentally kicked herself for being such a ninny. His voice held a hint of resignation, or was it dread? She wasn’t sure and glanced over at him.
Mistake.

Jason’s eye, like pools of stormy, dark water stared back, pulling her. She felt vulnerable and longed for a time when life wasn’t so complicated—if there ever was a time. And though she fought hard to resist Jason’s appeal, she knew she was the loser in this tug of war.

The attraction earlier was nothing compared to now with his face so close. The desire to reach out and smooth away the tightened lines of anger from his brow had her painfully clamping her hands together.

“What?” She blinked and tried to shift back, finding no room to move farther from the crux of her problem.

“What do you want to do? I know you haven’t really been consulted as to your wishes.” He gave her a rueful smile. “But let’s face it, this isn’t a normal situation we find ourselves in. Do you need the money?” He looked genuinely concerned about her answer.

“I beg your pardon?” The nerve. The audacity of the man. Did he think her in dire straits and capable of selling her very soul to the highest bidder, downright insulting.

“I said, do—you—need—the—”

“I heard what you said.”

“Then why in the world did you ask me to repeat—”

“I didn’t ask you to repeat yourself.”

“It sure sounded like that to me.”

She felt those three lines back between her brows again only tighter, but she couldn’t do a thing about them. Worry and stress did that to her. At this rate she’d be old before her time.

The eyes tugging her under earlier were now exasperated and shooting sparks. His fingers raked through his hair causing several curls to stand irreverently, adoringly so.

BJ stop this. You’re not a schoolgirl. You’re a grown woman.

“It’s incomprehensible that you would ask about my personal finances. You have—”

“I don’t give a hoot about your finances. Oh, forget it.” He lunged from his chair with a glint directed at her as if she were a chicken pegged for frying, and he’d love to wring her neck.

“I can tell you’re going to be stubborn and contrary about this.” He paced the length of the room and then came back, towering over her. “Should have known. What else could I expect? You’re a woman.”

Unable to keep the laughter from her voice she said, “The last time I checked I was.” Seeing his inquisitive face, she supplied the answer. “A woman, Jace. A woman.”

His stormy expression eased, and a glint of humor lurked in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “But you’re right.” She held her hands out to her sides then dropped them on the armrests. “Let’s face it. Women do think differently than men. But that isn’t what’s behind all this. You know it. I know it. So what can we do to cut through the acrimony?”

“What acrimony?” He nearly yelled the words.

“Oh, come now. Ever since you walked into this room, you’ve had a burr attached to your backside, and it still seems to be smarting. And this asinine business concerning the will … well, there’s nothing to be done about it. Can’t change it even if we wanted to. If we don’t find a bit of humor in our situation we’re liable to end up killing one another.” She quirked her brow, glancing up at his imposing form, his features perplexed.

“I find nothing humorous about this predicament.”

“Work with me here. We’re in the same boat, sinking fast. Our situation is what it is. And if for no other reason, we have to think of Heritage House. Oh, the money isn’t so bad either, but …” She looked at him.
Mistake.
He wore a crooked grin. She looked away. “We’re in this situation together, and unless we can talk amicably, nothing will get settled. And we’re not the only ones who will lose if we don’t try to work together.

“Like you, I’m not sure I want any part of this crazy bequest.” She gazed down at her hands, not really seeing them. “However, I’m willing to listen to what you have to say, consider our options, and if they’re workable …” She shrugged, turned her hands up in a gesture of acceptance. “We and a bunch of little ones stand to forfeit a great deal if we don’t.”

“You don’t know the half of it, lady.