Byron fast-forwarded through part of the tape.
“Here we go,” he said, switching the video back to Play.
Granddad’s familiar, gravelly voice came through the twin speakers. “The reason for this is that you boys need to understand the difference between work and family. This great company you’ve inherited was built on a foundation of family. Your grandmothers and great-grandmothers may not have had their names on the stationery, but they played pivotal roles in the building of what is now Pacific Robotics.” His old eyes softened. “Lucy was my rock. She was there through good times and bad, through success and failure, always believing I could do the impossible. And, you boys, you need to find your own rocks.” Granddad folded his hands on the desk and leaned toward the camera. “And if leaving my estate to a future great-grandchild gives you inspiration to get out there and look, so be it. I can live with that.”
Byron clicked a button to stop the tape.
“I don’t get it,” said Lucas, tapping the tabletop in front of him. “We’ve seen this all before. What’s the point?”
“You gotta want it,” said Byron. “Look between the lines. That’s what Steve did.”
Lucas gave his head a small shake, still not following.
“Steve and his lawyers have rustled up a set of legal precedents for videotapes being used as a preamble to a will.”
Lucas gestured to the blank screen. “Granddad only reiterated that his firstborn great-grandchild inherits.”
Byron nodded. “You got that right. Your granddaddy hoped you boys would find yourselves some pretty gals, fall in love, get married and have children.”
“Yes, he did,” Lucas sighed in exasperation. It was a ridiculous way to structure an inheritance.
His grandfather should have left his shares to the person who would do the best job of managing the company. This crap about family being the rock of a man’s existence was just the ramblings of an old man. Single men could be great managers, and married men could be terrible managers. There was much more to it than marital status.
“And Steve has entered a brand-new petition that asks for this videotape to be considered the spirit of your granddaddy’s will.”
“He can do that?” As far as Lucas was concerned, the will was already settled.
“It appears as though he can,” said Byron. “It seems the court can decide to balance the letter of a will with the spirit of a will.”
“But, the shares are already in Amelia’s name.”
“It’s like an appeal.”
“He could get the will overturned?”
“He might. He’s swearing Konrad only married Monica to get the gal pregnant. That’s a clear violation of the spirit of the will. And Steve’s got a lot of lawyers hunting up precedents to back him.”
“Amelia could lose her shares? “
She could.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Does he have a chance in hell?” “I’m told he does. And it gets worse.” Lucas paused, eyes narrowing.
“His star witness?” asked Byron. “The person who’ll get up there and testify that Konrad and Monica’s marriage was a sham? “
Lucas brought the end of his fist down on the table, rattling the water glasses as he swore out loud. Byron nodded. “Devin,” said Lucas.
“Devin,” Byron confirmed. He rose and ejected the tape from the machine, stuffing it back into its cardboard cover. “When she takes you on over custody, that lady will sit up there on that witness stand and hand Steve his evidence on a silver platter.”
Devin had said yes when Lucas offered to join her on her evening jog around the grounds. She was still rattled from her encounter with Steve, and company didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
A security guard was posted in the hallway outside the nursery, and one of the housekeepers was watching the new video baby monitor. Deep down, Devin knew it was overkill. But she didn’t care. It was hard to forget the fact that Steve had simply sauntered into the mansion and into her room.
She realized he was a member of the Demarco family, so there was no reason for anyone to stop him. But Lucas assured her the staff had been instructed to announce all guests, including family members, from here on in.
They’d followed the pot-lighted mulch pathway as it wound through the grounds. In contrast to the last time they’d jogged, Lucas kept his pace easy, chatting about maintenance on his sailboat and upcoming events for the new hospital wing. Devin found herself relaxing.
They rounded the stables, where two tall chestnut horses stood near the rail.
“Do you ride?” she asked, her breathing heavy.
“Occasionally. Byron’s the family cowboy. He’s got quite the spread down there in Texas, and he’s firmly committed to the country lifestyle. I half expect him to show up with a few steers one of these days. Apparently, we have some grazing potential on the north side of the property.”
Devin took in Lucas’s jogging short and runners. “Somehow, I can’t see you riding the range.”
“What? You don’t think I’d look good in a Stetson?”
Actually, she assumed he’d look great in a Stetson. But that wasn’t something she was prepared to think about, much less talk about. “I don’t think you’d like the dust.”
“True enough,” he said, and nodded. “Give me a clean shirt, a hot babe and the Bugatti, and I’m in my element.”
“Or a set of polished clubs and a golf cart?”
“That’d work, too,” he agreed. “What about you? You golf?”
Devin shook her head. “I do not.” “You want to try?”
“Not particularly.” Of all the places she could put her leisure time and recreational resources, she couldn’t say golf had ever made it to the top of her list.
“It’s a lot of fun,” he cajoled.
“My life’s a little too busy to take up an expensive, time-consuming sport.”
“I thought you were the party girl.”
“That was your opinion. I’ve got a book deadline to meet and a baby to care for. Barbecue dinners I can do. Golf games, not so much.”
“What about swimming?” he asked, nodding as they approached the pool and the end of their run.
“Sure, I swim. I live on a lakeshore.”
“I meant right now. I’m sweltering.”
They slowed to a walk as they moved onto the pool deck. Lucas swiped the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead.
Devin was hot, too. And the pool looked inviting. But she had no desire to head up to the second floor and retrieve her bathing suit. When she crossed the threshold of her bedroom tonight, she’d have only one thing in mind, and that was sleep.
“No suit,” she told him, placing her hand on one of the tables for balance and stretching out a calf muscle.
“No problem.” He pulled his phone from the pocket of his shorts.
“You are not calling the staff to bring me a bathing suit.”