Chapter Two

Harry

I tried to come up with about a hundred different excuses, but none would work. I had been summoned to the Martin Mansion for dinner. I knew why, and I didn’t give a shit. I’d never been a good puppet, much to my parents’ regret. They had one golden boy. That should have been enough. I was the spare and didn’t need to be quite as perfect as my big brother, William.

I straightened my tie, not wanting to hear a lecture from my mother about being underdressed or looking like a slob. Her idea of a slob was me not wearing a five-thousand-dollar suit for a casual dinner with family. I was impressed when I put on a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

Tonight was the night my family had been waiting for: the night their heir married a woman who was equally wealthy and set to inherit her family’s empire. I was only glad I wasn’t the one essentially being forced to marry Tiffany Warner. She was pretty enough but shallow and controlling. It was Tiffany’s way or you dealt with a tantrum. She wasn’t exactly the brightest bulb in the box either. William didn’t seem to mind that his future wife and mother to his own heirs was rather vapid.

I couldn’t deal with that. I needed a woman I could have an intelligent conversation with, a woman who had her own opinions and wasn’t afraid to express them in an adult manner. In some ways, I felt sorry for my big brother. He didn’t get the same freedoms I did. I could party, screw up, and screw any woman I liked, and it was no big deal. William was constantly monitored and kept in line to ensure he represented the family name in the best way possible.

I grabbed my keys and headed out to my fancy BMW. I wasn’t the first-born son, but I still enjoyed the perks of the family wealth. I had a generous allowance that kept me in the lap of luxury. When I arrived at the Martin Mansion, a valet took control of my keys.

“Good evening, Mother,” I said, greeting my mother, who was loving her role as hostess of what was supposed to be a quiet family dinner but was something much bigger. I was surprised there wasn’t a red carpet rolled out.

“Glad you could make it, Son. This is a big night for our family,” she said, her voice full of warning.

I knew what she was really saying: Don’t embarrass the family. God forbid I tarnish the family name. My dad came out of the study carrying his usual glass of bourbon.

“Harry! Did you bring a date?” he asked, looking around the foyer.

I smiled. “No, Dad. This is William’s night. I didn’t want to outshine him,” I said with a wink.

My dad chuckled. “Is it a supermodel this month? Or maybe one of those pretty Hollywood leading ladies?”

I shook my head. “Nope. None of the above. I’m taking it easy.”

My dad clapped me on the shoulder and led me to the study to get a drink. “You can tell me. Is she blond?”

We walked into the study where Mr. Wagner was talking with my grandmother. She was my father’s mother. I loved her like crazy. She was no-nonsense and never let her wealth go to her head. She kept things simple and had always lectured us about flaunting our wealth.

I walked to her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Hi, Grams. What are you doing in here?” I teased.

She loathed the silly chatter the ladies were prone to. “You know what. No lady friend tonight?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Not tonight.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve finally gone through all the women in Texas?” she teased.

“Grams, come on, I’m only doing what you taught me. I’m sharing my good looks and big heart with all the ladies on the planet. I’m not limiting all this to Texas.”

She chuckled and took a drink of bourbon. “Well, I guess you listened after all.”

“Always.”

My dad gave me the customary bourbon, and I took a seat on one of the leather couches. My dad and Mr. Wagner drifted across the study to talk privately, leaving me alone with my grandmother.

“What do you think about all this?” I asked her.

She rolled her eyes. “A lot of pomp and circumstance if you ask me. A man should marry the woman he loves, not the woman who’s been chosen for him because of her pedigree. You would think he was picking out a prized horse.”

I chuckled. “William could marry whoever he wanted. Our parents aren’t that archaic as to arrange a marriage for him.”

She scoffed. “Aren’t they?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “I think this is William’s choice. He wants to uphold the family name and marry well.” I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “I’m glad it’s him and not me.”

That made her laugh. “You were not meant to marry well. You’re the one who is going to marry for love, and I have a feeling the woman who finally manages to capture your heart is going to be a real spitfire. She’ll probably make your mother have a stroke, but as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

“Where is William?” I asked, wondering why he wasn’t in the study with the men.

“Oh, that girl keeps him on a short leash. He’s probably in the sitting room drinking wine or champagne,” she said, shaking her head.

I smiled. “And that’s why I’m choosing to stay single. I don’t want to be led around by the—”

I stopped talking, remembering who I was talking to. Grams laughed.

“Remember, dear, I’m the one who did most of the business dealings. I’m used to the way the good old boys talk.”

I nodded my head. “I’m sorry. It was inappropriate. How did you and Grandpa ever get together?”

She looked wistful. “He was the bad boy from the wrong side of town, and I fell head over heels.”

That made me smile, thinking of my grandpa as being a bad boy. He had always been the perfect gentleman. Money had changed him. It had refined him, but that didn’t mean he still didn’t like to kick up his heels now and again.

“How did he propose? Was it a fancy dinner party like this?”

She giggled. “Heavens no. My parents wouldn’t even let him in the door of the house. He dropped to his knee in the middle of the street one night when he was sneaking me back home.”

“Grams!” I said, shocked to hear she had been such a rebel.

She was grinning. “I was so in love with that man. I grabbed his hand, after saying yes, of course, and dragged him through the front door. I marched upstairs, opened my parents’ bedroom door, and told them I was marrying him and didn’t care if they disowned me. As you can see,” she said, waving one of her frail hands around the opulent study, “they didn’t. They came to love him as much as I did. My father gave him a job and came to rely on his keen business sense. My George’s head for business tripled the family coffers,” she said proudly.

“I’m glad it worked out. I’d hate to imagine this world without me in it,” I said cheekily.

She chuckled again. “I was always so worried you would feel inferior or have low self-esteem because you were the second born. I guess I never needed to worry. You have never been like your Uncle Tim. Thank God.” She muttered the last bit.

Tim was the black sheep. He was the second-born son as well. I considered myself the black sheep, but Grams always made me feel as if I were just as valuable as William.

My mother appeared in the doorway. “If you’d like to join us in the dining room, dinner will be served shortly.”

I put down my glass and took the glass from my grandmother’s hand before helping her stand. She was a spry seventy-five-year-old woman, but her back and knees often gave her problems. Together, we walked into the dining room where William and Tiffany were greeting everyone as if they were members of the royal family.

“Glad you could make it,” William said when he saw me.

“Of course, big brother. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

It was sarcastic, and he knew it. I didn’t care. William had always felt as if he were a prince regent and I was the lowly younger brother. I walked with Grams to our places farther down the table and helped her get situated before sitting beside her.

Dinner was served shortly after everyone sat. Grams and I mostly chatted with each other, occasionally joining in the conversation happening all around us. It was evident Grams was not all that fond of Tiffany. She was polite, but it was the cold politeness that had been ingrained in her from an early age.

After dinner and before dessert was served, William made his move. He stood and used a fork to tap the side of his champagne flute. He quickly delivered a dry, rehearsed speech about how much he loved Tiffany. Then he pulled a box out of his suit jacket pocket and presented her with a ring with a rock the size of an orange.

She, of course, said yes and burst into fake tears along with my mother and hers. In that moment, I felt sorry for William. He didn’t love the woman. He was only marrying her out of duty. I wondered if he would ever know what love was.

Hell, would I ever know?

“I’ll grab another bottle of champagne,” my mother said, standing and wiping her eyes before leaving the dining room.

Now came the part where we moved to the sitting room and pretended to be happy. I wasn’t up for it.

“Want to make a break for it?” I whispered in Gram’s ear.

She chuckled. “You know it.”

“One glass of champagne and then we are out of here. Did your driver bring you?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yes. I was not going to rely on your father to get me home.”

“Good.”

“What about you, dear? Are you going to leave your car?”

I looked at her with a horrified expression. “Not a chance. I have ways of making it look like I’m downing the drinks without swallowing a sip.”

She chuckled. “Oh, I know you do, because I taught you!”

I laughed. “You’re right; you did. We better move and make sure we get seats near the door for an easy escape.”

I helped her up and escorted her into the sitting room. We took one of the small couches nearest the door, waiting for the others to join us. I heard high heels clapping against the marble tile and knew the ladies were descending upon us.

“I’d like to make the first toast.” My father’s booming voice cut through the silence.

My mother quickly filled glasses with expensive champagne. My dad said his bit, and there was the sound of clinking glass. I winked at Grams as I pretended to drink the champagne.

“I’ll finish mine and take yours,” she whispered. “I’m going to need alcohol to get through the next thirty minutes.”

I nodded my head and pretended to be smiling at the happy couple. Grams and I casually switched glasses, me taking her empty one and giving her my full one. Once she finished the second glass, she declared she was tired and wanted to go. I offered to escort her to the door and made my excuses to leave. It wasn’t like I was going to be missed.

“Good night, Grams,” I said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and shutting the car door.

I hopped into my car and drove away from the family estate as quickly as I could.