A Woman of Fortune (31 page)

“I—I'm attracted to you as well, Brian.” Claire couldn't believe she said those words, knowing there was no way to take them back. Still, Brian's honesty was refreshing after Tuck's lengthy deceit, and she felt compelled to reciprocate. As she'd learned, no relationship worth having could be built on pretense. “But like I said—I'm technically still Tuck's wife.”

Despite the disappointment clouding his voice, Brian assured her he understood. He admired her respect for her marriage. Regardless of what feelings were building, they agreed the only relationship viable at this juncture had to be platonic.

Brian seemed relieved Claire didn't cut him off entirely. How could she, after all he'd done for her?

Besides, if she
really
wanted to be honest, she had to acknowledge her loneliness. Since Tuck's arrest, Claire's bed had been a tomb, a sad monument to a relationship once alive, now dead.
How could anyone expect her to wait twenty years to resurrect that part of her life?

Tears formed, so close to the surface they almost spilled. She remembered how a man's skin felt against her own. She ached to be held again—to be wanted, desired. Her emptiness needed filled.

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she turned her car into the parking garage of her building, maneuvered into her spot, and cut the engine. She sat in the dark for several minutes, letting scenes flash in her mind.

An image of Tuck waiting at the end of the church aisle, wearing a suit and a wide grin.

His hands carefully placing Garrett in his infant seat for the first time before he drove them home.

His red-rimmed eyes as he confided he'd let his mother die all alone.

Claire leaned her weary head against the seat back, pushing the memories from her mind. She couldn't let the past shadow her future. Isn't that what Brian said?

With trembling fingers, Claire wiped her tears. Her crumbled marriage was not her fault. She'd made those wedding vows never expecting her husband would betray her and tear their life to shreds. She could never have known that “forever” included twenty years apart because her husband committed federal crimes and sat in prison.

Sure, she'd had second thoughts since telling Tuck it was over. But she couldn't be expected to continue a marriage under these circumstances.

She deserved to be happy.

Before she could change her mind, she reached for her phone and quickly dialed the attorney she'd decided to use. When the receptionist answered, Claire took a deep breath.

“I'd like to make an appointment with Rhonda Kates, please.”

42

T
hree weeks later, Claire made the big move into commercial kitchen space, with the help of Brian and some of his construction crew. Maybelline Knudsen pulled in some favors and expedited the perfect location, a tiny brick building east of the downtown arts district. From the street, the storefront wasn't much to look at, but the inside was a caterer's dream.

The prior lessee, also a caterer, went defunct after a party of five hundred got salmonella poisoning from cross-contamination. A worker had chopped up chicken wings and used the same knife to slice cucumbers.

Regardless, Maybelline negotiated a deal on her behalf that included leasing the property and all the equipment for an amount far under what Claire budgeted, which allowed her to spend extra for signage, a bright green banner that read “Della Claire Catering.”

“I think you should call the place Hugs and Quiches,” Jana Rae had proposed when they'd shopped for linens.

“Nah,” Claire said. “Too cutesy.” Brian suggested Meal Appeal, which also quickly garnered a rejection. In the end, it was Max who suggested she simply use her full name.

Della Claire was the perfect name for her new catering business.

When Brian's crew finished the heavy lifting, she dismissed them
all, thanking everyone profusely for their help. Brian promised he'd drop back in later, after he met with a rogue homeowner's association wanting him to replace fifty oak trees with flowering magnolias at a cost of nine thousand dollars. “You going to be all right until I get back?”

She assured him she had a lot to do. She'd be just fine.

Claire spent most of the morning organizing. She lined up the votives and vases on one shelf. She unpacked the linens and table skirts and stacked them neatly in the designated closet. The serving dishes and display stands were moved to a lower shelf, making room for insulated coffee and tea carafes.

By afternoon, everything was in place. She felt tired but satisfied. Who could imagine work could be this fun?

The first deliveries started just after lunch, a parade of trucks dropping off food staples like flour and spices, paper goods, and condiments. Many food items would be custom ordered, depending on the event. The trick would be to properly estimate amounts, factor in costs, and establish proper profit margins. She couldn't slip up. She needed to pay back Maybelline's loan as soon as possible.

Brian returned minutes after the last truck pulled away. “You really made progress, Claire,” he said, nosing around. “Looks to me you're ready to open for business.”

Pride filled her. “I'm so excited,” she said. “You know, seems like my entire life I've relied on Tuck. Going forward, I'm dependent on my own ability. Succeed or fail, it's all up to me now. Not my mother, not Tuck. Just me.” She looked at Brian warmly. “I should be filled with fear, I suppose. Instead, I'm so looking forward to what's ahead I can hardly stand myself.” Claire placed her palm against her cheek and grinned. “Do you know how foreign that feels after these past months? To wake up and feel good?” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I have you to thank. None of this would've been possible without you arranging to get me financed. I sincerely appreciate everything you've done to help me, Brian.”

Brian's face flushed. “Helping you has given me great pleasure,
my friend.” They both knew he'd chosen to label their relationship according to their earlier arrangement. Still, his eyes communicated deeper feelings. He clapped his hands. “I think this calls for a celebration, don't you?”

Claire leaned against the counter she planned to use as her baking station. “What do you have in mind?”

He popped up on the opposite counter, letting his feet dangle. “Dinner out. I'm talking steakhouse with all the fixin's.” He grinned. “Huh? What do you say?”

Claire should have been tired, but exhilaration buzzed throughout her body. Exhaustion would eventually come, but Brian was right. They should celebrate. She was now officially a businesswoman.

“Okay!” She grinned. “But consider yourself warned. I'm starving.”

Brian wanted to splurge, so they headed to Pappas Bros., a popular Dallas steakhouse started over sixty years ago that offered rich dark wood and leather decor and steaks unsurpassed in quality. Brian ordered a New York strip, medium well. Claire had a harder time making up her mind. She scanned the large board menu and finally settled on a tenderloin wrapped in bacon.

The waiter left the table with their order, and Claire positioned her linen napkin in her lap. She looked up to find Brian's eyes lingering in her direction. “What?” she said, smiling.

“I'm proud of you, Claire.”

She wrinkled her nose and grinned. “Thanks. But the real work is ahead of me.”

She told him about her new website, how she couldn't decide on the feel until Matt Jones, her designer, showed her the perfect theme—one with inviting colors, elegant fonts, and photos that would make even the most weight-conscious person want to gorge themselves.

“What do your children think of this new endeavor?”

Claire fingered her utensils. “Max, of course, is thrilled for me. He tells me he's working on getting me some free ads in the
Longhorn Weekly
. I haven't talked to Garrett or Lainie lately. But I'm sure they'll be excited for me as well.”

Eventually she'd tell Brian how her oldest son had failed to embrace their new friendship, and that Lainie had gone dark, not answering calls or texts, after Claire warned that no further money would be coming her way and Lainie would have to get employed as well.

But she wouldn't confide these things quite yet.

Her children were still finding their way through the aftermath of their father's actions. They needed time to heal, to get their feet back on solid ground. Even if they moved forward in baby steps.

“Hey, I think that lady is waving at you.” Brian pointed across the room.

She directed her attention to the window where he indicated. A woman dabbed her mouth with a napkin, then stood and headed their way. Only then did Claire recognize Glory Sandell.

Reece's mother had lightened her hair. She was dressed impeccably in tan slacks and a white blouse. The gold bangles at her wrists were likely the ones Lainie had suggested Reece purchase for his mother last Christmas. The whole look was very Jackie Onassis—appropriate for the mother of a future senator, she supposed.

“Claire,” Glory purred, both hands extended. “It's so good to see you again.”

Claire eyed her with suspicion. The Sandells had lost a lot of money, and nearly an election, when Tuck's crimes became known. Had the woman moved on so easily?

She grasped Glory's hands with tentative reception. “Hello, Glory. How are you?”

“Oh, we're grand. The election is less than two weeks away and Reece's numbers are strong.”

Claire forced a smile. “I'm sure the campaign worked hard and must be relieved the end is in sight.”

Glory peeked around her to where Brian was sitting, watching with silent interest. “Hello,” she said. “And who's this?” She cocked an eyebrow at Brian.

“Oh, excuse me.” Claire apologized and made introductions, feeling compelled to add, “Brian is a friend.”

Glory waved her husband over, who appeared as happy as Claire with this chance meeting. “Hello, Andrew,” Claire said when he approached. “I hear the campaign is going well.”

What else was she going to say?
Glad my husband bilked you of millions
and so happy your son broke my daughter's heart
as a result?

“Claire.” Andrew gave her a nod, clearly uncomfortable. “Nice to see you again.”

Seemingly oblivious to everyone's discomfort, Glory continued. “So, I guess you heard the big news.”

Claire gave her a tight smile, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “No, no I haven't.” She tried to keep her tone light, especially given the mischievous smirk emerging on Glory's face.

Glory leaned forward and cupped her hand at her mouth. “Well, it's not public yet, but Reece is getting married.” She dropped her hand. “I imagined Lainie would have told you. We announced it at a dinner party at our home a few weeks back.”

Claire's brows tangled in confusion. “A dinner party?”

Satisfaction dawned on Glory Sandell's face. Despite her husband's hand gently pulling at her elbow, her face flushed and her eyes shone.

Their eyes locked and Claire found it impossible to look away.

Glory tilted her head. “Frankly, both Andrew and I were a bit worried how Lainie might take the news. But, well . . .” She looked to her husband and shrugged. “When she showed up with Sidney, we realized our worries were unfounded.”

“What do you mean, ‘with Sidney'? Sidney McAlvain?” Claire asked, putting niceties aside. Brian reached for her hand, but she pulled away. She thought about how Lainie had failed to pick up the phone when Claire called, how every text she sent went unanswered.

She tried her best to shake off the notion. “Look, Glory, I don't know what you are implying, but—”

“Oh, I'm not implying.” Glory's lips curled into a triumphant smile. “And believe me”—she looked at Brian—“they definitely didn't claim to be
friends
.”

43

C
laire drove all night and arrived in Houston only hours from dawn. Brian wanted to drive her, but she'd declined his offer. When he couldn't change her mind, Brian tried to talk her into waiting until morning. “You could leave before the sun comes up and arrive refreshed and ready to confront the situation.”

That idea presumed she could sleep after hearing the news about her daughter.

Her mother tried to talk her out of making the trip as well. “Oh, darlin', you're overreacting, don't you think? Lainie's a smart girl and—”

Claire's dark look cut her mother off and communicated she was in no mood to argue the matter. She was going, and that was that.

Sidney McAlvain lived in the exclusive River Oaks area seven miles west of downtown Houston. Thanks to her GPS, Claire could find her way to the stately mansion with Greek-style columns and manicured lawns. She pulled her Escalade into the massive circular driveway lined with trimmed hedges and roses, and waited until dawn. At the first sign of daybreak, she got out and made her way to the front door.

She rang the bell and waited. A uniformed woman answered. “Yes? May I help you?” She looked past Claire to the driveway, clearly wondering why someone would visit at such an early hour.

“I'm Lainie Massey's mother.”

The older woman nodded, approval showing in her eyes. “Please come in. I'll alert Mr. McAlvain you are here.”

Claire waited in the entry foyer and watched as the woman ascended a massive circular stairway with a wrought-iron rail. In the adjoining living area, heavy gold draperies hung at floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over a collection of pools and waterfalls.

She had been in Sidney's home only one other time. Years ago, she and Tuck attended a party Sidney had hosted for the Houston Philanthropic Society. The event was a favorite for many well-known celebrities and CEOs and had raised millions.

“Claire Massey. This is a surprise.”

She looked up. Sidney descended the stairs, wearing a silk smoking jacket. He puffed on a cigar even at this early hour.

“Where's Lainie?” she asked, not bothering with polite greetings.

Sidney lifted his chin. He blew putrid gray smoke in the air above his balding head. “How's Tuck? I take it prison is treating him well?”

She jabbed her finger in his direction. “Cut it, Sidney. This isn't about Tuck. Where's my daughter?”

Sidney reached the bottom of the stairs. He leaned forward and said in a low voice, “Of course this is about Tuck.”

“Mama?”

Claire jerked her attention to the top of the stairs. Lainie stood on the landing, wrapping the ties of her bathrobe. Her long blonde hair remained tousled from sleep. “Mother, what are you doing here?”

Claire brushed past Sidney and climbed the stairs, adrenaline propelling her up at a surprising pace for a woman her age. “Get your things,” she barked. She grabbed Lainie's elbow. “I'm here to take you home.”

Lainie pulled back. “Excuse me? What home—your apartment?”

Below, Sidney puffed on his cigar, clearly amused by the tense exchange.

Claire's breath caught and she turned back to her daughter. “Lainie, what are you doing?” she implored. “You were never meant to be arm candy for some fat old rich man.”

There was a time she would never have said such impertinent things of Sidney McAlvain, no matter what she thought of his lifestyle. This time he'd crossed the line. He deserved no respect.

“Claire, I realize you are emotional,” Sidney said in a melodic voice of reason. “But our Princess is an adult. One capable of making her own decisions.”

She bristled at the comment. Unless the pompous buffoon of a man had birthed her, raised her, and loved her for twenty-plus years, he had no right laying claim to Claire's baby. She continued her desperate plea. “Sweetheart, he's your father's age. This isn't what you want.”

Lainie's soft blue eyes turned steel-gray with determination. “I know what I
don't
want. I don't want to be married for thirty years and have my husband do what Daddy did to you. I don't want to believe someone loves me only to find out that someone sold me down the river because of a drop in his polls. I don't want any more illusionary relationships.” She pointed down at Sidney. “That man may not be your idea of a great catch, but he doesn't pretend to be something he's not. And he can give me a life that doesn't include baking cupcakes for weddings.”

The force of her daughter's insult knocked Claire against the rail. She struggled to breathe against the emotional punch. “Do you know what they call women like you, Lainie?”

“‘They'? You mean the people who look at me like I'm pig feces because I'm Tuck Massey's daughter? I no longer care what
they
think.”

Claire violently shook her head. “I won't have it.” She jabbed her finger. “I didn't raise you to—”

“Sure you did, Mama,” Lainie spat. “Just go home to your new boyfriend.”

Claire clenched her fists. “Brian Magellen is
not
my boyfriend. He's a friend, one who's helping me start my little
cupcake
business.”

Lainie's chin quivered and her eyes glazed with tears. “Yeah? So you're no different than me if you really think about it.”

Those words haunted Claire all the way back to Dallas.