Love Takes All

An elevator opened and Miss E. led the way inside, where they were lifted steadily upward, albeit a bit slow. The inside of the elevator was more functional than elegant. Boring, Hunter thought. Whoever the previous designer had been hadn’t considered how the elevators should look.

The elevator stopped on the top floor and the doors slid smoothly open. Miss E. stepped out and led the way down the hall. Only six doors opened to the hall, three on either side. They had reached the penthouse floor.

“The previous owner lived in the hotel,” Miss E. explained as she stopped in front of one of the doors. “This floor has what he said were family suites.” She knocked on the nearest door.

When the door opened, Hunter nearly fell to his knees. One of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen smiled at him. She was slim with a fragile, almost ethereal air to her in a Zoe Saldana way with a heart-shaped face and wide brown eyes. Shoulder-length black hair hung in long silky waves about her shoulders. Skin the color of his favorite mocha coffee looked as smooth as satin. A cream-and-black dress skimmed her body. He could tell the dress was a designer label and probably tailored to fit her. Her hands were long and slender, the nails lacquered a pale, iridescent pink to match the barely there lipstick on her pouty lips. She was so tiny a strong wind would probably blow her away. She certainly took his breath away. The longer he stood mute, the more strained her smile became until it began to falter. He was probably creeping her out.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Miss E. pushed him into the tiled entry. “Close your mouth, Hunter. Hunter, this is Lydia. And this is Maya.”

A young girl, maybe eight or nine, ran across the tiled floor and flung her arms around Miss E. Maya’s resemblance to Lydia told Hunter the child was her daughter. She wore a yellow flowered sundress that showed off her light brown skin. Her long hair was woven into two thick braids that bounced against her shoulders as she ran. Instead of dark brown eyes like her mother, Maya’s eyes were light amber.

“Miss Eleanor,” Maya cried. “My bedroom looks like a castle. It has a princess and a prince. The prince even has a horse. I’ve always wanted a horse.” She sighed longingly.

She grinned so wide Hunter could see new teeth coming in at the sides of her mouth. From the slight crookedness of her front teeth, braces were in her future. Yet her smile was infectious and Hunter found his own smile growing at her elfin enthusiasm.

“Lydia,” Miss E. said, “this is my grandson Hunter Russell.”

Lydia held out her hand. “How do you do? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Her voice held a faint Southern accent.

Hunter was dazed as he took her hand in his. Her skin was warm and soft. “Hello.” Was that the best he could do?

“This is my daughter, Maya,” Lydia said with a soft smile as she eased her hand out of his.

Maya smiled. “Hello, Mr. Russell, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She held out a tiny hand for him to shake.

He solemnly accepted Maya’s hand, shaking it slightly. Hunter was impressed she had manners. Like her mother. “How do you do?”

“Well, thank you.” Maya giggled. For all her mannered politeness, she was still a child.

The suite was divided into three parts. The area upon walking in contained the living room. Closer to the balcony was a dining table that looked large enough to seat eight people. Beyond the sliding glass doors, he saw a pond and wondered if it had koi. On his left an open door showed a bedroom that seemed to have a child motif. Nearest the balcony was a large, open kitchen. On the other side of the living area was another open door showing a second bedroom. Across from the kitchen was another closed door, which he assumed was probably a third bedroom, and a second open door showed a white tiled bathroom.

The suite was nicely decorated with rustic red floor tiles, beige furniture and just a hint of Spanish influence in a massive sideboard holding brightly colored pottery.

“May I offer you some coffee, ice water, sweet tea?” Lydia asked in a polite voice.

“No, thank you.” Hunter was still a bit shocked at his grandmother’s decision to take on hotel/casino management, but even more so by the graceful, charming woman who was her business partner. She was a living piece of art.

His grandmother, on the other hand, was supposed to be retired, to let Hunter and his siblings start taking care of her. Running a casino wasn’t for the faint-hearted. Hunter didn’t have a clue how to run one. Miss E. probably had an idea, but she was seventy-eight years old and was more capable of playing the game than running it.

“Come see my room, Miss E.” Maya grabbed her by the hand and tugged her across the living room and into a bedroom.

He turned back to Lydia. She was watching him as closely as he had studied her. Her steady gaze unnerved him.

“I know what you’re thinking.” She sat down on the sofa and crossed her elegant legs, one foot bobbing up and down.

“And that is?” he asked cautiously.

“You’re thinking I’m insane, we’re all insane.” Her voice was calm and serene.

He wasn’t going to say anything negative. “Actually, I was thinking my grandmother is insane.”

Lydia Montgomery was as close to perfection as a woman could be. He wondered how she could have fallen in with Miss E.

Lydia leaned forward earnestly. “Miss E. knows exactly what she’s doing. And I am doing what I want to do for the first time in my life, and no one is going to stop me.” A challenge lurked in her dark eyes.

Okay, she was ready for a fight. He wondered what her life had been like that she was so passionate about doing something different. “What makes you think I intend to stop my grandmother, or you?” Part of him wanted to give her whatever she wanted. He sat down in a chair that looked comfortable, but wasn’t.

“I saw the way you looked at your grandmother. You looked at me the same way.”

Hunter held up a hand. “I’ll admit my grandmother is pretty impulsive and I do question her sanity at times, but she is an adult. And she has all her faculties.” He assumed she did. “But you....” How did he say the words struggling to get out? She looked like she belonged in a country club, not a casino.

“You think I’m going to take advantage of her, don’t you?”

“I’m more concerned about my grandmother taking advantage of you.”

A surprised look crossed her face as if she had to think about it for a minute. “Why would you think that?”

“Because she’s a bulldozer.” And Lydia looked like a stiff breeze would blow her over. “She’s an expert at reading people in order to give them what they want so she can get what she wants from them.”

“Your grandmother has been nothing but kind and encouraging to me. Maya adores her.”

“That’s how my grandma operates.” Hunter remembered when he’d been under his grandmother’s spell. He always fought it, but in the end gave in because giving in was so much easier. She just knew how to reel a person in like a big dumb trout.

“But...” Lydia floundered for a reply. “But she has such a clear vision. And she knows so much.”

“I’m pretty sure hotel and casino management isn’t on her résumé.” He could hear his grandmother’s voice coming from the open door of Maya’s bedroom. She was laughing.

“Isn’t it the same as managing a home?”

He studied her for a moment, stilled by the intensity in her chocolate brown eyes. She wasn’t as frail as she looked. The way she titled her head and watched him in such a composed manner made him wonder how his grandmother had talked her into joining the poker game. “Home management and hotel management probably have similarities, but on a much larger scale.”

“I’m sure Jasper is going to help us. And we do have experienced managers. And now we have you. Your grandmother thinks you’re capable of rising to any occasion.”

That was because his grandmother wanted him to do something. He hated feeling so cynical about Miss E. She was a master manipulator and no one got in her way when she was focused on a goal. “I have to think about this.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Think fast. We have things that need to be done and you have the expertise we need.” Her voice was soft and almost commanding. Something about her reminded him a bit of Miss E. She wasn’t asking him, but commanding him to do her bidding. Maybe he should get back in his car and return to San Francisco. His grandmother was a force of nature, but this woman looked soft and yielding yet already he could see she had a will of iron. She reminded him a little bit of a pit bull.

He forced himself not to smile or give in to make her happy. This woman was lethal. “What do you think I can do?”

“This is a luxury hotel and casino, and while we need to maintain our older clients, we also need to find a way to attract a younger clientele. Older clients think luxury comes with the room, but younger clients are willing to pay extra for them. And the one thing I’ve noticed after a couple months here in Reno and in Lake Tahoe is that there is money here. It’s quiet money, not very flashy, and buried deep. And I want to get that money for this hotel.”

He was surprised about her assumption about Reno. She had a depth to her that her exterior only hinted at. And any man would be a fool to underestimate her. “And you want a spa. Classy, elegant and...”

“Restful. A spa should be a treat. People want to be pampered.”

Me, too, Hunter thought. “Who doesn’t want to be pampered?”

“I want to create a more understated elegance. I want class with that comfort.” She closed her eyes while she thought, leaning back against the colorful cushions.

You want you. Maybe Miss E. wasn’t wrong about bringing Lydia Montgomery in. She knew what women wanted. “Understated elegance and comfort costs money. How far are you willing to go to get that?”

“I have money. Not as much as Reed Watson, but enough to cover my third ownership.”

“Who is this Reed person?”

She opened her eyes. “I haven’t met him since he’s away dealing with a family emergency. I do understand he’s a good friend to your grandmother.”

Hunter needed to check up on Reed Watson. “What do you consider elegant?”

She tilted her head, thinking. “Renaissance, Italy. Beautiful gowns, beautiful furniture. Elizabethan England. Regency England. Or maybe art deco, art nouveau. Or maybe Paris in the thirties. Josephine Baker, Langston Hughes, James Baldwin. Imperial Japan was beautiful. I can just see serene gardens and koi ponds like the one in the lobby.” Her eyes went dreamy and far away as she recited her litany of possibilities. “Napoleonic France.” Her face glowed with her ideas.

“These times of incredible beauty were always precursors to incredible disasters and upheavals,” Hunter said. Her enthusiasm was contagious. He just wanted to impress her. Who the hell didn’t want to do that for her?

She opened her eyes and glared at him, her dark eyes shining. “Mr. Russell, I am impressed that you know your history, but you’re ruining my dreams with your knowledge.”

“Hunter. Please call me Hunter. I’m an architect and being practical goes with my job description.” He understood the importance of artistic aesthetics, but they warred with functionality every time. His specialty was the preservation of historic homes. He’d never built a spa before. If he accepted the challenge, he would be spending time with Lydia, getting to know her. He turned over all the possibilities in his mind.

“You smell a challenge,” she said.

“I’m not sure I like that smug look on your face.”

“You’re in. I can tell.”

“I’m thinking.” Hunter didn’t like knowing how easily anyone—especially Lydia—could read him. “Why are you doing this?” Thoughts whirled around in his brain and the idea of a spa started to appeal to him. He would have to do some research, but research was something that came naturally to him.

She was silent for so long he thought she wasn’t going to answer him. Finally, she said, “I don’t want my daughter to grow up like me.”

She surprised him with her honesty. He definitely wanted to know more. What had happened in her childhood to make her want something so different for her daughter? She was an interesting mix of sophistication and naiveté. “What’s wrong with you?”

She took a deep breath. “I was raised to be a...a decoration—first for my parents and then my late husband. If my daughter sees me doing something of value then she will know there is more to life than hosting cocktail parties and rearranging flowers.”

Hunter could think of nothing to say after that statement. He had a feeling not one ounce of fun had been built into her youth.

Maya came running back into the living room. Miss E. followed at a more sedate pace. “Momma, Miss E. and I were talking about horses. She thinks I should have one.”

Lydia gave Miss E. a long, thoughtful look. “She does, does she?”

Maya nodded enthusiastically, hands clasped in front of her, eyes pleading. “Can I have a horse, please, so I can ride with my prince?”

Hunter forced himself not to smile. Miss E. was at it again. His grandmother was the pied piper.

“Every young girl should know how to control a huge beast like a horse so she can learn how to control the two-legged kind.”

Hunter gave his grandmother a sharp look. “Is that how you learned?”

“My daddy raised bird dogs and I grew up with horses so I learned at a young age about horses and dogs and later on, children.”

“You raised us like we were puppies?”

“And look how you turned out. I should write a book.” Miss E.’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Raising your children to bark on command.”

Lydia burst out laughing. “At one time I wanted to take horseback riding lessons myself.”

“Why didn’t you?”

She sighed. “My parents didn’t consider it an acceptable sport for a proper young lady.”

Now that was sad. His parents and later his grandmother indulged all of them in their interests. He was beginning to dislike Lydia’s parents. “What are you going to tell her?” He gestured at Maya.

Lydia hugged her daughter. “I’ll consider it.”

Miss E. leaned over Hunter and whispered, “She’s in.”

As if Hunter didn’t already know that. Frankly, so was he. He was just going to make them work a bit harder for it.

Maya leaned against her mother’s knee, her eyes pleading. “Please, please, please.”

“I said I’d consider it. Horses bite.” Lydia brushed a few flyaway tendrils of her daughter’s dark hair away from her face.

“We’ll find one that doesn’t bite,” Miss E. said, a note of finality in her tone.

Oh, yeah, Maya was getting a horse. And he was getting a new job...at least for a while. He would have to call his partner and arrange for him to take over his clients. He needed to call his assistant and let her know. A list formed in his mind. The logistics of what he was about to do made him wonder if he was the one who was insane.

* * *

Lydia didn’t realize how bored she’d been with her life until she met Miss E. Miss E. lived a life Lydia could only dream about. She’d lived on her luck and her wits while raising her grandchildren. She’d taken risks, never knowing if she would win or lose, while shaping her own destiny. If Lydia didn’t know any better, she might have been jealous. Lydia wasn’t very comfortable knowing that about herself. Jealousy was bad. Jealousy was a sin. She had heard that often enough from the pulpit of the Baptist church her parents attended.

Lydia grinned at her daughter flying through the suite, putting her clothes away. Lydia had wanted a pony, too, but her parents had enrolled her in ballet in order to learn to be graceful and fluid. Yes, she had learned gracefulness, but also how to appreciate music and be resilient, how to balance and develop her eye-hand coordination. She had loved ballet as a child, but she’d really wanted a horse, just like Maya.

“Your son is very forceful,” Lydia said to Miss E. after Hunter left. And handsome. She was glad he was gone because he made her feel...she wasn’t sure what. But whatever it was left her uncomfortable because for a brief second her gaze had settled on his lips and she’d wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him. Miss E. laughed. “He’s the oldest and thinks he’s expected to act in such a manner. Underneath he’s a pussycat.” Miss E. paused in the act of zipping up a suitcase. “You’re not going to let him scare you because he thinks I’m eccentric, are you?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who has all their marbles like you do.” Everybody who had sat down at that poker table had been at least thirty years younger than Miss E., and she’d outwitted them all. “You are living, breathing proof that experience is the most valuable asset.”

“An asset you need to develop.”

“I’m nothing compared to you,” Lydia said almost ashamedly.

“You have skills I will never have. I sat down at the table with a bunch of men who knew my reputation and knew not to underestimate me, but you, with your beautiful face, charming manner and soft voice—no one looks at you and thinks that underneath you have a will of steel.”

“I don’t have that,” Lydia objected, thinking of all the times she’d obediently followed her mother’s orders just to be nice.

“You underestimate yourself. The second the door on your gilded cage was unlocked, you flew away.”

“I had no plan.” Running away from New Orleans had been impulsive and possibly silly. She’d done so anyway because she couldn’t stand the feeling of being cloistered, of being locked up.

“Yes, you did. You snatched your daughter and fled. You waited until you found someone...me...who would help you. You didn’t just walk into my poker school to learn to play poker for fun. You needed a skill. You needed to learn how to outwit people with what you think you don’t have.”

Lydia stared in astonishment at Miss E. If anything else, learning to play poker had taught her to keep her cards close to her vest and learn strategy. “How did you know that about me? I didn’t even know that about me.”

“I watched you watching people. In the three months you’ve been here, you’ve become a better poker player than ninety percent of the people I’ve ever taught. That’s because they were playing for fun and you weren’t. They wanted to win money and you wanted to win respect. I know you like it when people underestimate you.”

Lydia stared into the older woman’s shrewd eyes, frowning. “I’m not that good at poker.”

Miss E. simply smiled. “You don’t play cards, you play the cards, you play the people. You manipulate them by your actions. Do you know how many tournaments I’ve won and never even looked at my cards?”

“Miss Eleanor, you make me sound so manipulative.” But wasn’t she? she asked herself. How often had her husband brought home some little piece of jewelry because she admired it and had manipulated him into purchasing it? Once he bought her a brand new Lexus because she’d complained about the Cadillac. And she’d managed to keep Maya out of the prestigious boarding school Mitchell thought would be good for her by batting her eyes and telling him how much Maya was an asset for his business. All because he made profitable contacts through Maya’s friends in the fancy private school she attended. She didn’t care about his business as much as she wanted to keep Maya home with her. She had used Mitchell’s ego to get what she’d wanted. He’d given in because he adored Maya and deep down inside wanted to keep her home, too.

“You’re a beautiful, fragile woman and your ability to manipulate is your greatest weapon. You keep letting people underestimate you, because when you knock them on their butt, they are still not going to get it. And mark my words, you’re going to knock Hunter on his butt and I’m going to enjoy watching you.”

Lydia sat down on the sofa and let her thoughts wander. “Thinking back, I believe you might be right.” Unfortunately her actions reminded her of her mother and made her uncomfortable. Caroline Fairchild had gotten what she wanted the very same way Lydia had. Lydia wanted to change that part of herself.

“You fascinate me, my dear. I read you five minutes after we met.” Miss E. opened the closet door and hung up Maya’s dresses. Maya had retreated to a corner of the bedroom with her dolls, and sat on the floor playing quietly.

Lydia ran over in her mind why she’d come to Reno when she could have gone anywhere. She had more money than she could spend in a thousand lifetimes. She had global contacts and time.

Maybe Hunter had figured her out. Reno was as different as she could get. No one would think to look for her here. At least not for a while. And from the frantic phone messages left by her two stepsons, they were definitely looking for her. She kept her phone turned off most of the time because she didn’t want David and Leon to find her anytime soon. Eventually, they’d hire someone to track her down. And she would be ready for them, digging in her heels and making a life for herself in Reno despite any objections they would have.

She heard Miss E. laughing with Maya, which turned Lydia’s thoughts to Hunter Russell. He was a handsome man with his lean face and muscular body. His brown eyes had been as shrewd and sharp as his grandmother’s. Yet, he made her uncomfortable. Unlike Mitchell, who had been thirty-five years older than her. Mitchell had been a quiet, almost comfortable man. He’d asked little of her except to look pretty on his arm, to be gracious to his friends and to make his life comfortable. She had rather liked Mitchell even though he’d been her parents’ choice and not hers. Her marriage had not been the exciting relationship she had dreamed of, but it had been fruitful. Mitchell had given her Maya and for that she would always be thankful.

He’d asked Lydia if he could name the child after his mother and she’d agreed because she thought the name was so beautiful. She always suspected he’d been more of father to Maya than to his other two children.

She’d done everything Mitchell asked despite her dislike of his two grown sons from his first marriage. Leon and David Montgomery had hated her from the moment they’d met her. She’d been twenty-one and barely out of college when she’d married Mitchell. Leon and David had been in their early thirties. Leon was the consummate playboy, with two illegitimate children whose mothers had to sue him for child support, while David married every stripper he’d ever met. Crippled beneath the mountain of alimony David had to pay out every month, Lydia had the idea he’d been almost delighted when Mitchell had died until the will had been read and he’d discovered Maya had inherited most of the money and the businesses, with Lydia as the executer.

“I think we’re mostly done with the unpacking,” Miss E. said a moment later. She closed the last suitcase and zipped it. “I’ll just call the front desk and have them send someone up to collect the luggage and put it in storage.”

“Thank you.” Lydia nodded absently. “What about you? Have you decided on which suite you’re going to use?”

“I’m staying in my RV for the time being,” Miss E. answered. “I’ve lived in that RV for ten years. I’m not quite ready to give it up.” Her RV was parked in a side lot and plugged into the hotel’s electric grid. Lydia had never been in an RV before until she’d met Miss E. and she had found it to be quite comfortable if a bit cramped. She’d even considered buying her own, learning to drive it and then taking Maya all over the country to see all the wonderful places Lydia had always wanted to see. “So what happens next?”

Miss E. and Lydia went into the living room to sit down in chairs that faced each other, leaving Maya to play in her bedroom.

Miss E.’s face was thoughtful. “Reed and I have discussed letting you take over building the spa with Hunter while we take over the casino upgrades. Jasper is going to act as our consultant.”

“Do you know when Reed will be coming?”

“I don’t know. He said his father is doing better, but he’s going to be in the hospital for a couple more weeks and his mother isn’t handling it well,” Miss E. said.