The Baby Claim

Back in college, Glenna had felt so guilty, like such a turncoat because of her attraction to Broderick. She’d felt that way just fifteen minutes ago in her office.

Now, she glanced across the waiting area at...the son of her mother’s lover, boyfriend, whatever.

This was so surreal.

And Broderick was still infuriatingly hot. But things were more complicated than they’d been before, which had been mighty damn complicated.

He rested one lean hip against a wingback chair, his booted foot tapping restlessly. Her cousin looked back and forth between them. Sage obviously sensed something was wrong, but she kept her lips pressed closed. She wouldn’t ask.

And she wouldn’t gossip. Very likely that had been a quality high on Jeannie Mikkelson’s list when she’d chosen her assistant.

Did Sage already know about the affair? And perhaps about whatever was going on with their stocks? If some hint of the relationship between the two oil moguls had leaked, that could explain the odd fluctuations in stock holdings as investors grew unsure, some selling off their interests while others scooped up more, based on their own hypotheses.

So many questions.

Starting with...how long did it take to throw on some clothes? Glenna winced at the thought.

The door to her mother’s office finally swung open, the Alaskan yellow cedar panel revealing her mom, with Jack Steele standing tall right behind her, a gleam in his green eyes. Protective. Territorial. An unrelenting look Glenna had seen before in his business dealings. But this was different. So different.

She shifted her gaze to her mom.

Her mother’s damp hair was pulled back in a clip, but otherwise there was no sign of what had happened. Jeannie Mikkelson was as poised and strong as ever. She’d run the corporation alongside her husband for years, and then taken the helm alone after his first major heart attack debilitated him.

She’d kept the business running at full speed through his entire health crisis and even held it together after that final fatal heart attack. The whole family had been rocked. But Jeannie? Glenna had seen her cry only once.

Her mother excelled at keeping her emotions under wraps.

So it was no surprise she remained unreadable now. This wasn’t about her mother having a relationship with someone other than Glenna’s father.

It was about her mom having a relationship with this man.

Jack Steele looked like an older version of his eldest son, with dark hair more liberally streaked with gray. He’d kept in shape, but age had thickened him. He was a character, similar to all three of his sons. He was executive and cowboy. And Alaskan.

One of the many headlines from his magazine profiles scrolled through her mind. The CEO Wore Mukluks.

Jeannie nodded toward her assistant. “Sage, could you hold all my calls and redirect any visitors?”

“Of course, Aunt Jeannie.” Sage already had her notebook tablet in hand and was tapping with delicate efficiency.

“This may take a while.”

“I’ll reschedule your eleven o’clock and send Chuck to take him out to lunch.”

Chuck, aka Charles Mikkelson III, was Jeannie’s son, Glenna’s brother and second in command of the company. Heir apparent to take over when Jeannie retired.

If she ever retired. Jeannie was still vibrant and going strong, only in her sixties.

“That’s the perfect plan. Thank you, dear.” Jeannie waved Glenna and Broderick into the office and Jack closed the door behind them, clicking the lock to ensure there would be no interruptions.

Glenna swayed and Broderick palmed her waist. She couldn’t help but be grateful for the momentary steadying, even as his hand seared her.

Jack raised one eyebrow before saying, “Let’s all have a seat.”

Glenna self-consciously stepped away from Broderick, the tingle of his touch lingering.

The Steele patriarch pulled one of the green club chairs closer to the other, then touched Jeannie’s arm lightly as she took her seat. He eyed the sofa, making it clear that Broderick and Glenna were to park themselves on it like two kids waiting to be put in their place.

Broderick still wasn’t speaking, although he settled beside her on the apple-green sofa. Glenna couldn’t get a read on him, but then her brain was jumbled again just by the simple brush of his knee against hers.

What the hell was it with the Steele men?

Her mother and Jack were now holding hands like teenagers. It was sweet—sort of—but still such a jarring sight. “Mom, I know this is your personal business and I don’t want to pry, but you have to understand how confusing this is, given our families’ histories.”

“I realize this is more than a little awkward, Glenna, and we’d hoped to talk to everyone as a family soon.”

Broderick tapped the file against his leg. “Talk to us about...which part? The relationship between the two of you, or is there something else you want to share? Something, say, business related.”

Jack’s thumb caressed Jeannie’s wrist. “We want you both to know that this has come as a surprise to us, as well. Nothing happened while either of us was still married. We were very happy in our marriages.”

Her mom leaned forward, reaching out to Glenna. “I loved your father, you know that. I still do.”

Jack cleared his throat. “Son, you understand how...difficult... How...your mother’s death...”

Looking over with a sympathetic smile, Jeannie squeezed his hand before continuing, “Jack and I have spent a lot of time together these past months dealing with different EPA issues and concerns with the economy.”

“But our companies are in competition,” Glenna pointed out, still not understanding the situation.

“Our companies were eating each other alive. We would have been at risk from a takeover by Johnson Oil United. Their CEO, Ward Benally, has been making acquisitions and filings on their behalf that are concerning. We decided, out of a love for what we’ve built and for our home state, that we needed to talk.”

Talk? Glenna couldn’t help but note, “Clearly you’ve been doing more than talking.”

After the words fell out, she winced at her own lack of diplomacy.

Her mother, however, laughed with a light snort. “Clearly. We were as surprised as you are.” She tipped her head to the side. “Well, maybe not literally as surprised as the two of you were when you opened that bathroom door.”

Jeannie’s mouth twitched at the corners, then laughter rolled out of her. Jack’s deep chuckles joined hers and they exchanged an unmistakably intimate look as they sagged back into the chairs, hands still linked.

For some reason, that moment made Glenna far more uncomfortable than seeing them in towels earlier. This was about more than sex. This truly was a relationship, a connection, something she didn’t have in her life anymore, now that her husband was dead.

She might not have been married as long as her mother, but Glenna understood the pain of widowhood. And her deepest regret beyond losing him? She didn’t even have a child of theirs to love.

Glenna pinched two fingers to the bridge of her nose, pressing against the corners of her eyes, where tears welled. So much loss. So much change. Too much for her to process.

Broderick inched forward and slapped the file down on the coffee table. “If we’re all done with laughing, let me get this straight. The data and rumors that point to a merger of our two companies are not rumors. You’re genuinely planning to dismantle both corporations, and you expect us all to join forces without input or discussion.”

“No,” Jack stated.

“Of course we don’t,” Jeannie echoed. “We’re all adults and we have always intended to treat you as such. Things just happened so quickly between us we haven’t had a chance to bring you up to speed.”

“But,” Jack interrupted, “we intend to. And soon. Very soon, son.”

Broderick frowned. “Please say you don’t intend to put us all in a room together, Dad.”

“Not for the initial discussion,” his father answered. “We are smarter than that.”

Good thing. Being this close to Broderick, even for such a short time, was interfering with Glenna’s ability to focus. And it seemed she would need to keep her wits about her now, more than she’d realized even a half hour ago. “Mom, what exactly do you have in mind?”

“We want to arrange family meetings separately first,” she explained, her blue eyes worried but resolute. “We’ll need to allow everyone time to process what we have to say.”

“But then...” Jack held up a finger in a lecturing style that made Glenna wince. He wasn’t her father. And he wasn’t her boss. Yet. “We fully expect everyone to accept our decisions.”

Broderick gave a hefty exhalation as he sat back for the first time. “Dad, I think you’re expecting a lot awfully fast.” He turned to Glenna. “I don’t know about your family, but my brothers and sisters? They’re going to blow a gasket.”

Glenna was completely in sync with Broderick on that point at least. Because expecting her siblings to end a decades-long family feud after a simple conversation, expecting them to accept what appeared to be a blending of the businesses, too?

Blow a gasket?

Understatement of the year.

* * *

Broderick had eaten in restaurants around the globe, with food cooked by the finest chefs, and he’d enjoyed every meal.

But none of them outstripped the cuisine here at Kit’s Kodiak Café in the little town outside Anchorage. The diner, a rustic barn type structure, was perched along the bay’s edge. The paned windows presented a clear view of a dock stretching out into the harbor, an occasional whale’s back cresting through floating chunks of ice. Inside, long planked tables accommodated large, noisy groups—like his family.

Menus crackled in front of the others, but he knew what he wanted, so his menu stayed folded. He flipped his coffee mug upright to signify java would be welcome. The waitress took their orders with quick efficiency and no pandering, another reason they all enjoyed coming here. Their family was well known in this café, but they appreciated not receiving special treatment.

He and his siblings had been coming to Kit’s since they were children. Their father brought them most Saturday mornings and sometimes before school so their mother could sleep in. He would bundle them up. Half the time, their gloves didn’t match, but they always had on a hat and boots as they piled into the family Suburban.

Broderick hadn’t realized then how his billionaire father was trying to keep them grounded in grass roots values by taking them to “regular Joe” sorts of places, the kind that played country music and oldies over the radio. The air smelled of home cooking and a wood fire. Back then, he’d thought the stuffed bear was cool, the music loud enough and the food almost as good as his mom’s.

And he still did.

As kids, the Steele pack had ordered off the Three Polar Bears menu. He’d taught his younger siblings to read their first words from that menu, even though they always ordered the same thing: reindeer sausage, eggs and massive stacks of pancakes served with wild berry syrup.

These days, he opted for the salmon eggs Benedict.

Their dad always said their mom had the hardest job of all, dealing with the Steele hellions, and the least he could do was give her a surprise break. He’d rolled out that speech at the start of every breakfast, and reminded them to listen to their mom and their teachers. If there were no bad reports, then they could all go fishing with him. Looking back, Broderick realized his father had done that so they wouldn’t rat each other out and would solve squabbles among themselves.

It had worked.

He and his siblings had a tight bond. A good thing, sure, but both a blessing and a curse when they’d lost one of their siblings in that plane crash along with their mom...

Even when the table was full, it felt like there was an empty place without their sister Breanna there. Sometimes they even accidentally asked for six seats.

Today, though, their uncle sat with the five remaining Steele children, pulling up an additional chair as he joined them.

Uncle Conrad, their father’s brother, hadn’t been a part of building the Steele oil business. He was fifteen years younger than Jack, and had been brought into the company after finishing grad school with an engineering degree. He’d been a part of the North Dakota expansion. The Steeles had started in Alaska and moved toward the Dakotas, and the Mikkelsons had grown in the reverse direction, each trying to push out the other.

Uncle Conrad reached for the coffee carafe as he scooted his chair closer to the table. “Where’s my brother? He’s been in hiding since those rumors started flying yesterday morning. Damn rude of him to wait so long to meet with us. Marshall, Broderick? Somebody?”

“I only just got here. I was out with the seaplane, surveying,” Marshall pointed out. The family rancher, he oversaw their lands, as well as doing frequent flyovers of the pipelines.

Conrad cupped his coffee mug in his hands. “You’d think he would have returned calls from his own brother.”

The youngest Steele sibling, Aiden, reached for the pitcher of syrup. “You would think so. It sucks being discounted because you’re the last in line.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. A thick lock of hair fell over his forehead. “Right, Uncle Rad?”

“Don’t call me that, you brat. You’re as bad as your brother here.” Conrad gestured to Broderick. “You both carry that sardonic act a little far. We’re your family. Tell us, Broderick, is it true that you and Glenna Mikkelson-Powers found your dad with...”

Conrad shuddered and took a bracing swig of coffee, then refilled his mug, emptying the carafe. He held up the silver jug and smiled at the waitress as she swept it from his hand on her way to another customer.

“I couldn’t begin to say what you’re all envisioning. And it was even tougher to see...” Broderick leaned toward his youngest sister.

“Tough to comprehend,” Delaney responded, spooning wild berries onto her oatmeal.

Naomi, the wild child, older than Delaney and the boldest, most outspoken sibling of the pack, leaned her arms on the table. “Was he really going at it with Jeannie Mikkelson?”

“In the shower?”

“In her office?”

The questions from both brothers tumbled on top of each other.

Broderick forked up a bite of salmon and eggs. “Sounds like you don’t need me to tell you anything.”

Naomi slathered preserves on her toast. “What the hell is up with Dad?”

Conrad lifted his coffee mug. “Oh, I think we all know what’s up.”

Delaney snapped her napkin at him before draping it in her lap again. “Don’t be crude.”

“He’s older, as am I—” Conrad waggled his eyebrows “—but not dead.”

“Eww.” Delaney pushed her oatmeal away, her dark eyes widening and her nose scrunching. “Too much information.”

A cluster of tourists walked by the table, cruise ship name tags on lanyards around their necks. The Steeles went silent until they passed.

Naomi tapped a pack of sweetener against her finger before opening it into her coffee. “Do you think that’s all it is? An affair with a Mikkelson, the forbidden fruit?” She slanted a glance at Broderick. “I mean, you had that—”

Broderick leveled narrowed eyes at his sister and mentally cursed himself for a drunken admission in a quest for advice.

“Okay, okay.” She opened another packet of sugar into her coffee. “Damn, everyone’s testy around here.”

“Well...” Delaney admitted softly, “I did get Dad on the phone, and while he wouldn’t give me details, he admitted they’re in love.”

A series of hissed breaths and heavy exhalations sounded, along with silverware clanking.

“Broderick,” their uncle interjected, “what do you think? You actually saw them together.”

“I would say Dad’s serious about her,” he answered without hesitation.

“You don’t think this has been going on for a long time? A very long time?” Naomi’s dark brown eyebrows, already plucked to high arches, went even higher.

“Could be, but they say their feelings caught them by surprise. I choose to believe them.”

“How serious do you think this is? Like...marriage? What’s going to happen to the business?” Marshall forked a hand through his loose brown curls, his face full of questions.

Delaney stirred the berries through her oatmeal before spooning up a bite. “Were you able to get details about their plans? Do they want to make changes to the company’s safety standards?”

Broderick shook his head. “We didn’t get that deep into the discussion. Dad said he wanted to speak to all of us at the same time Jeannie Mikkelson speaks to her children, but separately.”

Aiden pulled three more pancakes from the platter in the center of the table. “I’m still stuck on the fact our families hated each other for years.”

“Maybe just the fathers?” Delaney asked quietly.

Broderick shook his head. He knew differently, firsthand. He and Glenna both did. “Jeannie Mikkelson was as much a part of that business as her husband. She’s different from Mom.”

At the mention of their mother, his siblings went silent in a new way, leaving a heavier atmosphere around the table. None of them had really come to peace with losing her or their sister Breanna in such a violent and unexpected way. A plane crash into a mountain... There hadn’t been much left in the wreckage after the flames. Their father had been allowed to view the bodies, but he’d kept his children away.

Broderick could see the memories ripple across each face at the table.

Naomi finished chewing her toast and took a swallow of her coffee. “Maybe this group meeting with Dad will be a golden opportunity to get him to see that...hell, this is a mess for the business. The board will go haywire over this. The stockholders will react violently to the uncertainty.”

Broderick scrubbed his hand along his jaw. “You’re going to tell them to break up for the sake of profit? That’s not going to float, not with our dad.”

His youngest brother’s eyes went wide with a hint of fear, giving Broderick only a moment’s notice before a familiar voice rumbled over his shoulder. “What’s not going to float with me?”

His father.

Jack Steele had arrived.

Three

Broderick carefully set aside his coffee mug as he crafted an answer for his father that wouldn’t send the old man—and the table full of edgy people—spinning.

His family had a way of letting their tempers fly. Especially since the peacemakers had died...his mother, his sister. These days, Delaney often tried to rein in family squabbles, but she was only one soft voice against a tide of pushy personalities.

Just as he was about to opt for a Hail Mary distraction instead of a logical plea, he was saved from answering when Conrad stood and pulled up another chair.

“Have a seat, Jack. You’re the man of the hour. We’ve all been on pins and needles, waiting to hear from you about your, uh, news.” Conrad clapped his brother on the back.

“Thank you for meeting me here on such short notice.” Jack waved to the waitress as he took his seat. “The usual order for me, please,” he called, requesting sourdough waffles, as he had for decades. The only difference lately? These days he topped the waffles with fruit rather than syrup.

They’d gathered at this table more times than Broderick could count, until it had become a de facto family dinner table. One his father loomed large over when sitting at the head.

Being Jack’s oldest son hadn’t been easy. Broderick’s father’s boot prints in the snow were large to fill and he cast a long shadow in the business world.

But damn it all, Broderick wouldn’t stand idly by and watch the Steele business be placed at risk. He knew Glenna felt the same about her family’s legacy.

Strange to be on the same side with her.

Broderick watched his father with analytical eyes. He wasn’t going to weigh in recklessly. He needed to wait for the right opportunity and choose his words wisely. The stakes were too high for misplaced speech. The fate of his company—and his place within the family business—depended on rationality, not impulse.

Conrad took his seat again. “Thank you for putting your clothes on for us. Poor Broderick here still looks like he needs a bracing drink.”

Jack scowled, his lips so tight his mustache all but hid them. “You can zip your mouth, brother.”

Conrad smiled unabashedly. “Do we really want to talk about zippers right now?”

Leaning back in his chair, Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “My sense of humor on this has run out. You’re being disrespectful to Jeannie and I won’t stand for that.”

“Fair enough,” Conrad conceded. “You have to understand we’re all more than a little stunned by what’s transpired.”

To hell with waiting. Broderick saw the opening to take control of this conversation, not only for his family’s sake but also for Glenna’s. “We grew up believing our families to be enemies. I can’t count how many times I’ve heard you curse both of them—Jeannie and Charles Mikkelson.”

“Things change,” Jack said simply, pouring a mug of coffee. The statement was casual, as normal as the black coffee he had drunk every day for as long as Broderick could remember. “I don’t have to explain myself to any of you, but I will say that Jeannie and I love each other. Very much. We intend to be married—”

“Married?” Aiden interrupted, his voice cracking on the word.

Everyone else stared in stunned silence, then looked at Broderick as if he’d kept a secret from them. Shaking his head, he pressed his fingers to his temples against the headache forming. He’d had no sleep, instead wondering how serious his father’s relationship with Jeannie really was, if it might wane with time. A litany of questions had kept him awake. Not to mention being tormented by visions of Glenna in that tight skirt every time he closed his eyes. Seeing her again had brought back memories, vivid ones.

“Yes,” Jack confirmed, in a no-nonsense tone, the kind he’d used on his children when they were younger, “married. Sooner rather than later, especially now that our secret is out. Jeannie and I discussed it at length last night, which was why we didn’t answer any of your phone calls.”

Broderick focused on a crucial word in his father’s answer. “Sooner?”

“Yes, now that you know, why wait for the perfect time to break the news? Jeannie and I had planned to tell our children in a more...prepared, controlled manner this weekend. But yesterday afternoon’s events forced our hand. Jeannie is speaking with her children now.” He glanced at Broderick. “As I’m sure you already know from talking to Glenna.”

The mere mention of the Mikkelson CFO drew a few raised eyebrows at the table. His siblings looked at him with sidelong glances, understanding that their father had tipped the balance of power in the conversation. Shifting slightly in his chair, Broderick pushed the image of Glenna and her sunset-blond hair out of his mind. Far away.

Broderick had no intention of letting his father distract them from the topic at hand. After all, the old man had taught that diversionary tactic to each of his kids.

Leaning forward with elbows pressed on the wood table, Broderick levied his own power. “Let’s stay on target, Dad. You’re here to fill us in on your engagement plans to a woman we thought you didn’t like. Do I have that right?”

“More than engagement plans. As I said, we are getting married.” His tone was as stern and certain as an Alaskan winter.

“A long engagement?” Broderick said it hopefully.

The extra time would give their relationship a chance to cool. Perhaps even allow Jack to see the madness of this whole situation. To really evaluate what this meant for their companies.

Jack’s eyes warmed, wistful and sentimental. Something Broderick hadn’t seen in his father’s expression since before the plane crash.