The Fortunes of Texas: The Secret Fortunes

“Who is this special date?” her mother asked, taking a seat in one of the wingback chairs. “Do I know the young man?”

“I doubt it,” Sophie called from inside the closet. “He works for the company—in marketing. His name is Thom Nichols.”

“Nichols,” Charlotte repeated thoughtfully. “Is he related to Drew Nichols, who owns Austin Capital Bank and Trust?”

“I have no idea,” Sophie answered as she stepped out with clothes tossed over her arm.

Charlotte gasped with dismay. “You have no idea? You’re going out with the man and you don’t know any more than that about him?”

The branches of a family tree were very important to Charlotte. So was public perception. Which made Sophie wonder how her mother had stood so stanchly by her husband when the news of his London love child had hit the rumor mill in Austin.

“Oh, Mother, I hardly need to know the size of Thom’s wallet before I go on a date with him.”

Her spine ramrod straight, Charlotte scooted to the edge of the chair. “I am not talking about money. As a Robinson you have a social standing to uphold and—”

“A Fortune Robinson,” Sophie interrupted dourly. “Surely you haven’t forgotten I have an extra name now. But then, I suppose as a Fortune, I have an equally important reputation to uphold.”

Her hands clasped tightly together in her lap, Charlotte said stiffly, “The added name is a fact I don’t care to ponder on.”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” Sophie said gently. She walked over and sank onto the dressing bench facing her mother. “Ever since Keaton has come into the family I’ve been wondering about you, Mother.”

A shutter fell across Charlotte’s face, making her features unreadable. “There’s no reason for you to be wondering about me. I’m fine. And I’ll remain fine.”

Not wanting to add to her mother’s suffering, Sophie chose her next words carefully.

“Actually, I’ve watched the way you’ve conducted yourself through this whole scandal, Mother, and I’ve been amazed. I couldn’t have been nearly as strong and steadfast as you’ve been.”

The rigidness of Charlotte’s face eased a fraction as her glance returned to Sophie. “It’s not been a picnic for me by any means. But I understand your father completely. Actually, I understand him better than anyone,” she said. “And sometimes a wife just has to put on a brave face and look the other way.”

The other way? Sophie was incredulous, but she carefully hid the reaction from her mother. Charlotte had grown up in a past era, where women had different roles in life. Especially when it came to men and marriage.

“Maybe so, Mother. And I know a person is supposed to be forgiving. But I happen to think you deserve better from Dad. For the life of me, I can’t imagine why you stay married to him.”

Her mother shot her a stern look of warning. “Your father and I have a complicated relationship. It’s also unbreakable. I can assure you of that.”

Unbreakable because her mother refused to let go of a cold marriage? Or maybe it was her father who kept his wife bound to his side for purposes other than love?

“Anything can break, Mother, with enough pressure.”

“Gerald has provided me, you and everyone in his family with a wonderful life. Not one of you children has a thing to complain about. So don’t.”

The firm tone of Charlotte’s voice told Sophie not to push the issue, so she would honor her mother’s wishes and let the subject drop. But that didn’t mean Sophie would stop speculating and wondering if there could be more to her mother’s loyal devotion to her cheating husband.

Smiling, she focused on her upcoming date instead, standing and holding up a pale pink mini dress with black accents. “What do you think about this for dinner and a movie?”

“Dinner and a movie? You’re calling that a special date?”

Sophie’s laugh tinkled through the bedroom. “It’s the man that’s making it special. Not where we’re going.”

Clasping the dress to her, Sophie waltzed over the plush carpet, while her mother eyed her with speculation.

“Sophie, you always were an impulsive, dreamy child. I’d hoped that by the time you graduated college you’d be more realistic and settled. But it’s clear you’re still flittering around like a butterfly, believing life is nothing more than a rose garden. One of these days you’re going to have to face the real world.”

Pausing in front of Charlotte’s chair, Sophie fought hard not to roll her eyes. If it wasn’t so sad, her mother’s comment would be laughable. Did she think pretending to have a loving, caring husband wasn’t delusional?

“I crammed four years of college into three and I’ve held down a demanding job ever since,” she said stiffly. “I’d call that very real, Mother.”

Charlotte’s features softened somewhat. “Oh, Sophie darling, there’s no sense in you getting all defensive. I only meant—well, you’re a romantic soul. You believe life is full of hearts and flowers and kisses. And I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that—in small doses. But you also need to be firmly grounded.”

When Sophie came home sporting an engagement ring, then her mother would see her butterfly daughter was perfectly capable of landing safely on her feet.

Determined not to let anything spoil her evening ahead, Sophie dropped a kiss on her mother’s smooth cheek. “Don’t worry, Mother. I promise not to let Thom sweep me off my feet tonight.”

But I’m sure as heck going to try to sweep him off his.

Chapter Three

Several hours later, a bored Sophie stared at the theater screen while fighting back a yawn. She’d never been into action movies and this one, with its ridiculous, computerized explosions and car chases, was hardly enough to hold her attention.

When Thom had asked her what movie she’d like to see tonight, Sophie had generously insisted he choose, with hopes he’d view her as easy to please. She’d hardly expected him to take her to see Road Devils: The Final Battle. So far there hadn’t been one meaningful exchange of dialogue. But that hadn’t seemed to bother Thom; he appeared to be enthralled with the story. For the past hour and a half, he’d rarely glanced in her direction.

So much for taking pains with her hair and makeup, she thought wryly, as she sipped her diet soda and darted a glance over at Thom. At the moment, he was munching on butter-drenched popcorn, his gaze fixated on the gun battle on the screen. Even though he’d not been all that attentive, she had to admit he looked devilishly handsome tonight in close-fitting brown trousers and a black shirt. But was gazing at a good-looking face all she wanted?

The question had barely had time to roll through her mind when suddenly, for no unexplainable reason, Mason popped into her thoughts. Would he have brought her to this sort of juvenile flick?

Are you going crazy, Sophie? You’ve been bragging to everyone how you’re going to snag Thom. Now you’re finally out with him and you start thinking about Mason Montgomery! He’s just a friend at work. He’s not the man of your dreams!

The scolding voice in her head was correct. This was hardly the time for her thoughts to be straying to Mason. Yet this was the second time in the past few hours that a vision of the other man had appeared to her.

Earlier, when she and Thom had been sitting in a restaurant eating a simple meal of fish and French fries, a dish she’d learned was Thom’s favorite, the image of Mason cutting into a rare steak and sipping red wine had popped into her mind. It was ridiculous! She had no idea whether Mason liked to eat such a masculine meal. Besides, Thom was the he-man of the two. Wasn’t he?

“Wow, that was a great ending, don’t you think?”

Ending? Sophie glanced around to see the credits were rolling on the screen and people were already filing toward the exits.

“Oh. Yes, for sure. It was very exciting,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t guess she’d mentally blanked out the last hour of the movie.

He tossed his empty soda cup into the popcorn tub and dropped the whole thing to the floor for the janitors to clean up.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, while telling herself his untidiness was hardly anything to be concerned about. He was probably very orderly at his own place. Besides, it wasn’t like she had to clean up after him.

Are you even ready to see this guy’s apartment, Sophie? And what would you do if he tried to seduce you into his bed?

Frowning at the silly questions that continued to pop into her head, she nodded at him and reached for her coat. After he’d helped her into the garment, the two of them left the theater. Once they were outside, Sophie dropped her soda cup into a nearby trashcan.

As they walked across the parking lot to his car, Thom glanced at his watch. “It’s getting rather late. I think we should call it a night. We both have to be at work early in the morning.”

So much for worrying about going to his apartment, she thought. He couldn’t even manage a stop off at a coffee house.

Sophie tried not to show her disappointment. After all, this was their first date. Just one of many, she hoped. She shouldn’t be expecting him to behave as though he was reluctant to tear himself away from her company.

“Fine. I can always use the extra time to shampoo my hair and shave my legs—again.”

He tossed her a puzzled look. “What?”

She chuckled and then realizing he was clueless, she shrugged. “Oh, nothing. Just a girl thing.”

“You’re a good sport, Sophie. I like that about you.”

At least there was something about her he liked, Sophie decided. Although she would’ve preferred to hear him say how competent she was at her job. The way that Mason had complimented her.

Mason. Mason. Why did the man keep lurking at the edge of her mind?

Thankfully, Thom put his arm around her waist and as they walked the remaining distance to the car, she was able to push the ridiculous question from her mind.

When they reached the sleek, little sports car, he politely helped her into the bucket seat. No sensible economy car for this guy, Sophie decided. Apparently he wanted his mode of transportation to match his image. Cool and sexy.

She’d been sitting only inches away from the man for the past few hours. By now she should be feeling the itch to get closer. Instead, she was wondering about the other women he’d dated. No doubt most of them had been eager to get their hands on him. Shouldn’t she be wanting to scoot closer and snuggle her cheek against his shoulder? Was she just not getting herself in the right frame of mind?

Minutes later, Sophie was still mulling over the troublesome ideas when they approached the iron security gates connecting the high stone walls surrounding the Robinson Estate.

After Sophie keyed in a code to allow them entry, Thom drove down a long drive lined with live oak trees. In the summer months, the multi-winged mansion was shaded by more live oaks, along with several massive pecan trees. Presently, winter had bared the branches of the pecan trees.

Normally, when Sophie went on a date, she met the guy at a chosen spot downtown. It saved him the inconvenience of driving to the estate and dealing with security. It also took away the intimidation factor. A few of her past dates had taken one look at her home and never asked her out again. But Thom was far more self-assured than that and she’d wanted this whole evening to feel like a special beginning.

After parking in the wide circular drive illuminated by solar footlights, Thom helped her from the car and walked her to the door. The arm at the back of her waist felt strong and sturdy, but she wasn’t getting any warm or cuddly vibes from the contact. Maybe that was because she was still a little miffed at being brought home early as though she had a curfew.

“This is some serious digs, Sophie,” he said as he eyed the elaborate entrance to the only home she’d ever known. “Bet the inside is even fancier than the outside.”

The subtle hint brought Sophie up short. Did he want her to invite him in for a drink—with her father?

Hating herself for thinking such unseemly things about this man, she forced a smile on her face. “It’s nice and comfortable,” she said simply. “I’d invite you in, but like you said, it’s getting late and I wouldn’t want to disturb my parents. You understand, of course.”

He smiled back and Sophie was relieved that he didn’t appear to be offended. This was Thom. Her Thom. She wanted things between them to start off well. Even so, she had no intentions of being a pushover.

“Sure. Maybe next time,” he suggested.

Tilting her head back, she studied his perfectly carved features. “Would you like there to be a next time?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Why not? I’m willing if you are.”

His response wasn’t exactly what she’d been hoping for, but this was just the beginning of things, she assured herself.

Lowering her lashes, she said demurely, “Yes. I’m willing.”

“Great.”

The simple word was said offhandedly as he shoved back the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch. Again. If time was more important to him than she was, she thought bleakly, she was doing something very wrong.

“Well, it’s rather cold out here,” she said. “Maybe we’d better say good-night.”

Sophie turned toward the door, but before she could key in the entry code, his arm snaked around her waist and drew her toward him.

“I can’t let you go in without a proper good-night,” he said with practiced ease.

Finally! The word was zipping through Sophie’s mind as she planted her hands on his chest and tilted her head slightly back. At last! Her dream man was going to kiss her!

Her heart tripping with anticipation, she waited for his kiss. But shockingly, when his lips met hers, her initial instinct was to push him away and step back. Somehow, she managed to catch herself before the crazy reaction ruined everything. Then, forcing herself to lean into him, she attempted to put real feeling into the kiss.

His lips moved expertly over hers with just enough pressure to convey that he was interested. The feeling was pleasant enough for Sophie, but there was no passion igniting inside her. No sweet singing birds sounding in her ears. No trembling in her knees. Even after he lifted his head, she was still anxiously waiting, expecting some last-minute explosion.

Smiling smugly, certain the dazed look on her face was a result of dreamy desire, he patted the top of her head. “Good night, Sophie. See you tomorrow.”

“Yes. Good night.”

As Sophie watched him walk back to his car, she was struck by the stunning realization that something was very wrong with her.

Thom Nichols, the man of her dreams, had just kissed her and she hadn’t felt a thing.

* * *

The next evening Mason was still at his desk, deep in work, when Nadine stopped by his cubicle.

“Hey, guy, haven’t you looked at the clock? It’s quitting time.”

He glanced around to see Nadine was already buttoned up in a fake fur coat that resembled a cheetah. In spite of her smile, she looked drained.

“I’ll be going soon,” he told her. “I have a few more things I want to finish. How’s the mother/baby app going?”

Groaning, she rolled her head one way and then the other. “I’m losing my mind. That’s how it’s going. Wanna help?”

Mason chuckled. “I have plenty of work waiting on me. Besides, I know nothing about mothers and babies.”

Nadine grinned suggestively. “This would be a good opportunity for you to learn.”

“Hah! It’ll be years before I have a child. If ever,” he said flatly.

“Aw, come on, Mason. I can see deep down you were made to be a family man. Don’t disappointment me.”

Mason shot her a glum look and Nadine promptly stepped into the cubicle as though she’d forgotten she was on her way out of the building.

“It’s been months since Christa threw you over for that high-rolling real estate agent. If you’re still pining over her, let me assure you, she’s not worthy to wipe the sweat off your brow, much less be your wife.”

Mason gave her a weary smile. “Thanks for the compliment. But forget about Christa. Believe me, I have.”

“Really? Then tell me why you’ve been going around all day like you’ve lost your dog?”

“I don’t have a dog.”

“Don’t evade the question. Something...” Her red lips formed an O as she shot him a shrewd glance. “It’s about Sophie, isn’t it? You were very unhappy at seeing her with Thom in the breakroom yesterday. What’s happened? You think you’ve lost your chance with her or something?”

Mason tossed his pen onto the desk, where it promptly rolled to the back and fell between the wall and the kickboard. A sign of just how his luck was going, he thought dismally. “She went out on a date with him last night.”

Nadine’s brows arched upward. “Really? How would you know that?”

“Yesterday, when you saw her here at my desk, she was telling me that Thom had asked her out. She was jumping up and down with excitement.” He shook his head while trying to ignore the heavy feeling of dejection settling in the pit of his stomach. “She has her heart set on having a big Valentine’s date with Thom. And knowing Sophie’s determination, she’ll probably get it.”

“Poor girl. She’s letting that pretty face of Thom’s blind her. I expect it won’t take long for the blinders to fall off and then she’ll start looking for a man with real substance. And we know where she can find one of those,” Nadine added with a sage grin.

“Do we?”

Before Nadine could answer, Dexter Johnson, another programmer, stopped by Mason’s cubicle.

“Oh. You two are still here. Are we supposed to be staying over for a meeting or something? I didn’t get a memo about it.”

In his midthirties, Dexter had black hair that waved in a giant bush about his pale face. A wide smile exposed a set of longer than normal eyeteeth, prompting the nickname Vamp. And though it was done with affectionate teasing, Mason didn’t approve of his colleagues’ humor. When it came to computers, though, Dexter was practically a genius. Along with that, he was a nice, unpretentious guy.

“Don’t worry, Dexter. There’s no meeting. Nadine and I are just having a little visit.”

“Oh, well, I’ll let you two get on with it.”

Before he could move on, Mason said, “You don’t have to go. Pull up a chair and join us.”

Even though Dexter was clearly warmed by the invitation, he quickly shook his head. “No thanks. I need to get home. They’re predicting sleet tonight. Not good walking weather. And I’m too chintzy to catch a cab.”

Nadine wrapped her arm around Dexter’s slender shoulders. “Forget about walking, or the cab. You can ride with me. Your apartment is right on my way.”

Dexter’s thin face brightened. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“No bother at all. I’m happy to have the company. So if you’re ready, let’s go.” She urged Dexter away from the cubicle, while tossing a smile over her shoulder at Mason. “Get your swagger on, Mason. Your time is coming. Good night.”

Mason waved, then turned back to his computer.

Swagger? Him? He was hardly the guy who roared in on a motorcycle wearing black leather chaps and a slick pompadour. How was Mason supposed to get swagger when everybody saw him as the boy next door with the kind face and comfortable shoulder?

For the next two hours, Mason tried to dive into his work and forget about Sophie’s date with Thom. But each time he thought he’d cleared his mind, her pestering image came right back to him.

Sophie had told him to stop by her desk today and she’d give him a report on her date. But regardless of how much he wanted a chance to talk with her, he was hardly keen on hearing about Thom Nichols sweeping her off to some magical spot and kissing her until she fainted with delight.

No. Mason didn’t need to hear any of that. But when he finally shut down his computer and walked out into the corridor to leave, he spotted a light still burning in human resources and knew it had to be Sophie. No one else put in the long hours that she did.

With his jacket slung over his shoulder, he stood near the elevator doors, trying to decide whether to go speak to her, when the light suddenly went dark and Sophie stepped into the corridor.

Spotting him immediately, she waved. “Mason! I didn’t know you were still here.”

His heart tripping at a ridiculous rate, he watched her stride quickly toward him, while thinking she looked as fresh as if it was eight thirty in the morning and she’d just arrived, instead of nearly three hours past quitting time.

“Hi, Sophie. I just now saw the light and wondered if it was you,” he confessed.

Her lower lip thrust forward in a playful pout. “And you weren’t going to stop by and see me? Shame on you. I expected to see you today.”

So she could brag about her date with Thom, he thought sickly. “Well, I’ve been very busy today. I’m still doing last-minute tests on the sports app. And then there’s a new project.”

“You’re so incredibly smart, Mason. I doubt you ever worry about the work you produce. In fact, I’ve heard Wes bragging on you before. You’re one of his favorites,” she added, then gave him a coy wink. “But don’t let him know I told you so.”

At least there was one Fortune Robinson who appreciated him, Mason thought dryly.

“I wouldn’t think of repeating that little tidbit,” he assured her.

For some reason he felt compelled at the moment to grab the bull by the horn, as the saying went. Raking a hand through his hair, he asked her, “Uh, seeing as how you’re leaving, too, would you like to grab a cup of coffee?”

For one split second she appeared surprised by his invitation and then a bright smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Sure. I’d love a cup.”

Feeling as though the floor beneath his feet had just turned to air, he reached for the coat she was carrying. “Better let me help you with this,” he said. “I hear there’s bad weather coming tonight.”

Standing behind her, he held the coat so that she could slip her arms into it and Mason was immediately struck by her petite stature and the grace with which she moved. As always, she smelled like a cloud of sunny flowers and he longed to drop his face to the crown of her hair and draw in the subtle scent.

“Thanks,” she told him as she buttoned the coat and wrapped a dark purple scarf around her neck. “I hate being cold. I’ll be happy when three-digit temperatures get here.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. Summer will be here before you can say the rat ran over the cheese barrel.”

She shot him a quizzical look. “‘The rat ran over the cheese barrel.’ Where did you get that phrase?”

He grinned. “I made it up.”

She laughed then, and looped her arm through his. “You’re so funny, Mason. Thank you for making me laugh.”

Funny. How was he supposed to get any kind of serious swagger going when Sophie viewed him as some sort of standup comedian?

He didn’t know, but he had to get his new and improved Mason going soon or Thom Nichols was going to snare this sweet Fortune on his arm.

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