“I’m not trying to help you get hooked up with some hussy,” Ms. Monica said and playfully swatted at his hand. Morgan pressed his lips together, preventing his laugh from escaping. “I’m trying to help you find a nice girl you can marry.”
“Ms. Monica—”
“And not like that gold digger Bonnie Ford,” she continued talking, shaking her head as if he hadn’t said a word. “I still can’t believe she tried to use your relationship to advance her family’s business interest. Ridiculous! Compared to your family’s other refineries, that small oil refinery of theirs would look like one of those ugly hateful stepsisters standing next to the beautiful princess. Not to mention all the times he’s filed for bankruptcy.”
“It was a long time ago,” he replied, still feeling a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Morgan had no idea that his three-year, loving relationship with Bonnie—at least he’d thought it was loving—had meant so little to her. He certainly didn’t know her and her parents’ only agenda for them was to forge a business empire between their families.
“That’s my point. It’s time for you to stop playing with all these silly little girls and find a woman with some substance. It’s time you found yourself a wife.”
Morgan checked his watch. “Look at the time. I should get over to the shop.”
“Fine, go, but we are not done with this discussion, young man,” she insisted, walking toward the kitchen.
Yes, we are. The last thing I need is a wife.
Ms. Monica was like family and Morgan knew she meant well, but he was happy with his life just the way it was. Sexually satisfying liaisons with temporary companions and keeping his heart protected from another bad break suited him just fine. Morgan threw his trash away and set his dishes in the collection pans. He walked toward the exit when his cell phone rang. “Hey, what’s up, A?” Morgan answered, stopping shy of the exit.
“China’s in labor,” Alexander, Morgan’s elder brother and CEO of Kingsley Oil and Gas, replied.
“Oh. Snap. Is China all right?”
“She’s...emotional but strong,” Alexander replied.
“That she is,” Morgan agreed.
“And beautiful...so damn beautiful,” Alexander murmured.
Morgan heard something in his brother’s voice, something unfamiliar. Fear maybe. “Are you okay, A?”
“Yeah, but I could use some backup,” he admitted.
“I’m on the way.”
“You sure, Morgan?”
“I’m sure. Where am I coming?”
“Woman’s Hospital. Thanks, man.”
Morgan could hear the relief in his brother’s voice. “I’ll take the chopper and see you in about an hour.”
Morgan put his phone away, pivoted and walked toward another exit, one that would get him to his car the fastest. He still couldn’t believe another Kingsley would be arriving soon. Now Morgan had two brothers with children, something he never thought he’d see—so soon, anyway—and briefly wondered if that was a journey he’d ever take.
* * *
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Kathleen grumbled that night, trying to sit still in the makeup artist’s chair. She was anxious to find out if the Kingsley investigation would move forward and kept thinking about all the things that needed to be done before she could get started.
“Like you could go to the Irene Winston Cancer Foundation gala with Dad and me looking like—”
“Like what, Hannah, myself?”
“No, not you. Not the real you, anyway. Maybe a more sedated you,” her younger sister conceded.
“I work in the real world where all this excess is not necessary and frowned upon. Just because I don’t walk around looking like a glam goddess like you, little sister, Miss TV Chef, doesn’t mean I don’t look good.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t. What I am saying is that you need to showcase all of our mother’s wonderful gifts. The high cheekbones, seductive eyes and—” she ran her hands through her own hair “—all this thick beautiful black hair.”
“Hannah, you sound like a beauty commercial,” Kathleen said, laughing. “Why aren’t Wesley and Kennedy going to this thing tonight?”
“You know our big brother and sister are workaholics just like you. They’re out of town on business. Plus they’re always at these things. Our foundation’s charity events usually have us traveling all over the country. Since this one was local, right in your backyard, we figured you could step up for once,” Hannah explained.
“For once?”
“Yes, Kathleen. You rarely make an appearance to any of our social events, be they personal or charitable.”
Kathleen bit her lip. “I like my privacy. Besides, my job—”
“Has nothing to do with your family. Stop hiding behind it.”
“I’m not,” she murmured, knowing her sister was right. Kathleen had enjoyed attending their charitable functions just as much as her sister until their mother got sick. Her mother’s illness and trying to find ways to deal with her anger became her focus.
“Whatever. Which dress do you want to wear? They’re both Versace.” Hannah held up a black, low-backed lace gown in one hand and a red, strapless, flowing gown with a high split in the other. “If I were you—”
“I’ll take the black one, please.”
“Red, it is,” Hannah replied. “You need to show off your banging body and gorgeous face if you want to catch a worthy man.”
“I’m not looking for a worthy man, Hannah.”
“You should be. You’re twenty-nine and haven’t had a man since college.”
“I’ve been focusing on my career. Making a difference in people’s lives is important to me. I don’t need any unnecessary distractions.”
“You can still fight your crusade and have a man too. You’d be amazed what great sex can do for a working woman’s disposition.”
Kathleen rolled her eyes. “My temperament is just fine, thank you very much. Anyway, I don’t think there are many men out there like Dad. It would take someone pretty substantial to get me to deviate from my course.”
“You won’t know until you try and find one,” she said challengingly.
“I don’t see you running to the altar with Peter.”
“And you won’t. We’ve outlived our usefulness for each other,” Hannah explained, picking up a comb, running it through her hair and admiring her own beautiful makeup job.
“What? When did that happen?”
“That’s a story for another time. You look fabulous.” Hannah turned and hugged her makeup artist. “Lisa, you are amazing.”
“Thank you, but you both offer a beautiful canvas for my work. I’ll see you on the set in the morning. Have a good night, ladies,” Lisa said before walking out the door.
“The set?” Kathleen frowned. “I didn’t know you were working.”
“They booked a couple of promos for me while I’m in town. Houston’s one of my biggest markets,” she declared proudly.
Kathleen’s