Love Takes All Page 11

  Caroline looked shocked and her father frowned. “No self-respecting Fairmont woman has ever needed a job.”

  “I didn’t need a job, I just wanted one.”

  Her mother stared at her, eyes wide. Her father’s frown deepened. Lydia turned to the reception desk and requested a small suite on the third floor for her parents, thinking to keep them as far away from her as she could get them. The desk clerk smiled happily and assigned a suite. She could just imagine her parents looking at the western decor in their room and thinking how awful it was. Maybe they would leave then. Lydia didn’t want them here. She refused to be put back in the box her father demanded she live in.

  Lydia handed them their keys and she headed toward the elevator.

  “Aren’t you going to show us to our room?” Andrew asked.

  “That’s what bellhops are for.” If Lydia were mean she wouldn’t have offered a bellhop, but she knew her parents probably already had one since they seldom traveled with less than a dozen suitcases.

  Hunter stepped forward. He held his hand out to Andrew.

  “Who are you?” Andrew asked.

  “I’m the man who’s trying to put this place back together.”

  Caroline’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re the hired help?”

  Hunter paused. “Not exactly.”

  “Other than being the grandson of one of the owners, I’m an architect and I’ll be redesigning the hotel.”

  At last her parents had the dignity to look embarrassed. She wanted to enjoy their discomfort, but that would be wrong. She glanced at Hunter and silently mouthed the words thank you. He grinned back at her. She could see he enjoyed baiting her parents. She wished she’d learned that skill much earlier in life.

  “Where is Maya?” Caroline asked. “I want to see for myself that she is adjusting well to the upheaval you’ve caused in her life.”

  “Maya is fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed.” She turned on her heel and left, knowing her parents would probably be angry at her abrupt departure, but she’d already had enough drama for the day.

  * * *

  Hunter held the elevator for Caroline and Andrew. He was proud of Lydia. She’d stood up to them and didn’t cave no matter how her father tried to intimidate her. Caroline entered, giving him a curious glance. Andrew brushed past him and stood in the center of the elevator waiting for Hunter to push the button.

  “Lydia has never worked a day in her life,” Andrew said.

  “I wouldn’t have known that considering how hard she works now.”

  “I didn’t raise my daughter to be a drone worker bee,” Andrew replied.

  Hunter smiled. “She’s not. She has no problem telling people what to do, what she likes and how she likes having things done.”

  “Andrew,” Caroline said in a placating tone, “maybe she just needs a little independence and to discover it’s not as glamorous as she thinks, and then she’ll come home.”

  Hunter eyed the woman. Did she believe that? He thought about saying something, but decided to let them keep thinking that Lydia was just having an adventure. Their baby girl was not going back to the mansion anytime ever. She was never going back. She’d have to fall on her cute little butt, crawl through the mud and get run over by a train before she’d even think about going back. He wasn’t going to say anything to them while he was trapped in an elevator with them. Things could get ugly.

  The elevator door opened to a long hallway. Hunter led them out of the foyer and down the corridor.

  “She’ll be back,” Andrew said. “She knows her proper place in the world.”

  Hunter was amazed at what they were saying and realized they didn’t consider him a person of any consequence. Not being on their radar didn’t bother him at all.

  “At least,” Caroline said, “she’s doing it here instead of New Orleans, where we would have to bear the shame of it.”

  Wow, Hunter thought as he led them down the corridor toward their suite. Her parents were the most insensitive, callous people he’d ever meet. He wanted to help Lydia more. He wanted her to succeed just to spite them. How did someone as sweet and nice as Lydia come from them? If she didn’t look exactly like her mother, he’d think she was adopted.

  He opened the door to their suite and stood politely aside to let them inside. Caroline stood just inside the door, her gaze moving from one corner to the next, her gaze critical as she took in the too fussy decor. “I expected something...well, better.”

  “We’re working on that,” Hunter said, making no move to elaborate.

  “How do I make an appointment at the spa?” Caroline walked into the suite.

  “We don’t have a spa, but we do have an arrangement with a spa a few blocks from here. I’ll be happy to make an appointment.”

  Caroline turned shocked eyes on him. “What kind of luxury hotel do you have without a spa?”

  “We are hotel in transition, Mrs. Fairchild. And had we known you would be arriving, we would have had everything in place for you.” Hunter tried not to sound condescending. These two people just rubbed him the wrong way. “All I can do is ask for your forgiveness and understanding.”

  Caroline sniffed scornfully and headed toward the bedroom. Hunter knew when he’d been dismissed even though he thought he’d gotten the upper hand with them.

  * * *

  Lydia waited for her parents in the café. Maya was with her tutor, who’d agreed to come earlier to fit in her lessons before her horse-back riding lesson.

  Her father was late. She glanced at her watch, trying to decide how long she should wait for him. She had work to do and his deliberate little ploy annoyed her. He wanted to make sure she knew he was in charge. She’d give him five more minutes.

  She finished her coffee and just as she rose, her father entered the café, looking overdressed for the more casual atmosphere.

  “Lydia,” Andrew said.

  “I was just about to leave,” Lydia said. “So you have five minutes.” She glanced pointedly at her watch.

  He sat across from her. “What do you mean I have five minutes?”

  “I have a meeting with Miss E. in a few minutes. You’re twenty minutes late.”

  “I’m your father; you do not speak to me in that tone of voice.”

  “And I’m a businesswoman with a company to run,” Lydia retorted.

  His eyebrows rose. “What do you know about running a business?”

  “I know enough to show up to a meeting on time. You’re wasting your five minutes arguing with me.” She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m waiting.”

  Her father stared at her, his lips twitching and one hand gripping his mug of coffee. For a second she felt five years old again and afraid of her parents. She thrust her chin forward; she wasn’t about to let him know her fear.

  “Very well,” her father said in a short, clipped tone. “Your mother and I feel you need to come home to New Orleans. Should you refuse to, I will support the custody battle in favor of Leon and David.”

  Lydia went very still, trying to wrap her mind around her father’s words. She shouldn’t be shocked that her parents sided with her stepsons. She’d had three months of perspective and had figured out that her parents were notorious in getting their way when they wanted it. She’d watched her father manipulate and scheme. Hurt filled her, but she wasn’t surprised.

  “I see.” She slid out of the booth, stood and braced her hands against the table. Her father’s face was guarded, as though he’d figured he’d gone too far.

  Lydia straightened, her back stiff, resolved to fight a battle her parents would never forget. She whirled on her heels and walked away.

  “Lydia, come back here, I’m not finished.”

  “I am,” she muttered to herself as she
left the café and headed to Miss E.’s office.

  * * *

  Once in Miss E.’s office, she sat at the conference table, trying to calm herself. In her whole life she couldn’t remember being so angry. Her parents siding with her stepsons made her want to do something criminal.

  The door opened and Miss E. entered. With one look at Lydia’s face, Miss E. sat down and asked quietly, “What happened?”

  Lydia wanted to cry. All her life she worked hard at not shaming her family and here they were threatening to air their dirty laundry and embarrass everyone. Mitchell spent a lot of time and money keeping Leon’s and David’s skeletons firmly in the closet. Her parents’ betrayal hurt more than anything.

  The words seemed to explode out of her. “My loving parents decided to support any claim David and Leon have in taking Maya away from me.”

  “What?”

  “They think my stepsons would be better parents for Maya than I would. Unless I return to New Orleans, my parents will support them.” Even saying the words made her angry.

  “Well,” Miss E. said in a composed tone. “This fight has just gotten interesting. The gloves are off. I’m rather excited.”

  “How can you be excited? Am I supposed to be excited?” Mitchell had spent years cultivating his gentlemanly reputation and his sons wanted to destroy it because of their greed and anger. Leon and David were being cruel and selfish, two things she didn’t want Maya to be. No matter how she shielded Maya, she was going to end up damaged in some way.

  “Do you know what courage is, dear?”

  Lydia tried to smile, but her lips refused. “I have an idea, but I’ll let you tell me.”

  “Courage is when you’re afraid and you jump into the battle anyway.”

  Lydia looked down at her hands, clasped so tightly her fingers dug painfully into her palms. “David and Leon, I understand. It’s all about the money. But my parents supporting them, I don’t understand.” They were being cruel and selfish, too. They weren’t putting Maya’s welfare first. How could they be that way to their own grandchild?

  “They probably just want you back home in New Orleans,” Miss E. said.

  “The last three months have been the most freedom I’ve ever had in my whole life. And I think that’s the real problem. My father can’t control me anymore, which is interesting because he didn’t try to control me while Mitchell was alive.”

  “Because Mitchell was doing all the controlling,” Miss E. said. “Why did you marry him?”

  “I was afraid of disappointing my parents. Mitchell offered me a way out of that house. I thought I would be independent, but looking back I know Mitchell chose me because of how my parents made me. I loved him.”

  Miss E. nodded. “Did you? Really?”

  “I loved him because he gave me Maya.” She could have managed anything as long as she had Maya. “He loved her, too. Though at the time, it seemed a different type of love than he had for David and Leon. I could never quite figure out why.”

  She fell silent thinking, wondering. She married Mitchell because her parents had talked her into it. “Why am I such a threat to my parents?” In a way, she knew. Her striking out on her own was a repudiation of who she was, who her parents were and their position in the social strata they’d created for themselves.

  “Threat may not be the word. You’re not threatening them. You’re undermining what they see as their ‘authority.’” Miss E. put quote marks with her fingers around the word authority. “I’m sure they love you. I would even go so far as to think, in their minds, they think they are doing what is best for you.”

  Lydia rubbed her eyes. She was twenty-nine years old and knew what was best for her and her daughter. Being smothered by her parents’ affection wasn’t it. She needed to start living her own life. Making decisions was the first step.

  “So what do I do?” Lydia asked Miss E.

  “I think the first thing we need to do is find out why your parents are supporting David and Leon.”

  “How do we find this out?”

  Miss E. smiled. “Do what I always do. Follow the money.”

  “Is everything about money?”

  Miss E. nodded. “It’s about what money represents, what it can do. Money can make an ugly man sexy and a mean woman tolerable. Money can buy love, comfort, safety, revenge. Money can’t buy happiness, but it can make being miserable more comfortable.”

  Lydia digested Miss E.’s words. “I’ve never thought about money that way.”

  “You’ve never had to live from paycheck to paycheck. Knowing that if you can’t bluff you opponent looking to fill an inside straight, your babies aren’t going to eat.”

  “Are you telling me, Miss E., it’s all about the bluff?”

  “You can count cards until the cows come home and you can read people, but unless you know how to bluff, you won’t get anywhere.”

  “Do you think my parents are bluffing?” Lydia frowned.

  Miss E. tilted her head. “I’ll know when I meet them.”

  She found herself telling Miss E. about her meeting with her dad.

  “Lydia, brilliant. I’m quite proud of you.”

  “Thank you, I needed that.” Lydia’s smile trembled slightly, but she felt better.

  “Keep in mind, I’m in your corner. You are not alone.”

  “I’m scared,” Lydia admitted.

  “I would expect no less of you.” Miss E. took a deep breath. “I almost lost my grandchildren. Someone called Child Services and complained that I was endangering my grandchildren with my lifestyle. The social worker who came to check on me was not a native. She said my being a professional gambler put the children at risk, until I showed her all the professional gamblers with children. They were all white men and the real problem was that I was a single black woman. Single mothers could be waitresses, strippers or prostitutes in Pahrump, but I couldn’t be a professional gambler and be a mother. In the social worker’s world, black women couldn’t be professional gamblers.”

  “You’re entire life rested on the turn of a card.”

  Miss E. shook her head. “I put money away and I never played for more than I could afford to lose. If I lost it, I stopped for the day, or week, or month.”

  “How much money did you make?”

  “My goal was a thousand dollars a day. And I gambled five days a week.”

  “You gambled five thousand dollars a week?”

  Miss E. nodded. “I had a cushion. There were days I didn’t bring home that much money and there were days when I brought double that amount. But most of the time, I brought home exactly a thousand dollars. The nice thing about Vegas was that I could send the kids to school, gamble until school let out and arrive back home in time to clean the house, greet them at the door and put dinner on the table. I was successful because I treated it like a job. To me it was no different than working as a waitress or a clerk in a department store. And when each of my grandchildren went off to college, I had the money to pay for it. I owned my home, I had a respectable savings account and investments and I never let it go to my head. And there were a lot of other gamblers there just like me. They treated it like a job.”

  Lydia sighed. “I wish you’d been my mother.” Her mother had made a lot compromises to keep her marriage on an even keel. Her father was not an easy man to live with. Caroline wanted everything to be perfect. She created a perfect marriage and a perfect daughter. Looking back, Lydia knew her mother had had no life beyond what her father needed. And that is what Lydia did for Mitchell.

  “No, dear, you don’t. I was not a fun parent.”

  “Neither was mine.”

  “I was exceptionally loving and supportive.” Miss E. smiled sweetly. “My kids know how to play poker. And you’re going to win. You’re going to bluff your parents t
o lay down their hand.”

  “From the first time since Leon and David arrived, I feel like I can do this.”

  “Of course, you can. You have something your parents, David and Leon don’t have. You have me, Hunter, Scott and Reed, and in the next few weeks, you will have the rest of my grandchildren in your corner. The Russells travel in packs. Now, we need to get back to business. You need to be incredibly successful if for no other reason than to spite Leon and David and show your parents you’re not an ornament, but a woman in charge of her own destiny.”

  Miss E. opened a file folder in front of her and started talking about Hunter’s ideas for the spa. Lydia took a deep breath, calming her nerves. She turned her mind to what Miss E. was saying, putting her problems at the back of her mind to think about later.

  * * *

  A knock sounded on the door frame of his office. Hunter looked up to find Lydia standing there, a booklet in one hand. He had already heard about her interview with her father from Miss E. A hearty dislike for the man grew inside him. How could any father hurt his daughter so much?

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “I need to buy a house.” She waved the booklet with the title Real Estate in Reno on the cover.

  “Okay,” he replied. His heart did a little lurch. He wasn’t certain how he felt about her leaving. He liked having her down the hall from him.

  “I want you to help me. I’ve never bought a house before.” She sat down and opened the booklet across her lap. “You’re an architect. You know what I should look for.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Privacy, security, a place to keep a horse, good school district.” She handed him the booklet. “Like this one. It’s on ten acres, completely fenced, generous sized house with a pool and comes with a barn and corral.”

  Hunter glanced at the photos. “This is what you get for four millions dollars in Reno. In San Francisco, four million would buy you a shack. You know once she sees that barn, she’s going to want a horse to put in it.”

  “In my head I’m preparing for that.”