I knew what she was saying. A name wasn’t just your name. I wanted anything other than to be recognized as Locke Uther’s son; especially if anyone ever found out the way I was conceived. I also wasn’t sure I wanted anything to do with the family business, a business that I inherited one hundred percent at the age of twenty-one years old.

When I turned twenty-one, I inherited Pendragon Empire: the entire multi-billion dollar company. Unfortunately for me, I had no business background. I finished college with barely passable grades, since my focus had been solely on building the reputation of the band as a serious musical force. I had been fighting the stigma of being Ingrid Tintagel’s long-lost child since I was eighteen. I didn’t know who my father had been until I was twenty-one, but I didn’t have the chance to meet him. While Ingrid was concerned that Locke would try to manipulate me into joining the family business and become like him, he died before I could meet him.

The irony was the band was playing at The Round Table the night before the scheduled meeting. Mure Linn agreed to be present and Leo DeGrance volunteered to host the meeting in his office, claiming it as neutral territory for all parties concerned. Unfortunately, upon my father’s exit from his home that night he was killed. Speculation was that the murder was not random but a business vendetta. Ingrid took it as a sign that my father and I were never destined to meet. She also took this as confirmation that I was not to be involved in the running of Pendragon Empire.

Locke Uther was revered in the society pages as an honorable man. His business success and charitable donations manifested him as an important man in the birth of the current economic growth in the New England area. I was recognized as the child of Ingrid Tintagel for years, but Locke Uther’s will revealed that Locke recognized me as his son as well. Uther had no legitimate children and he had no other sons. His company was one of legacy that must pass through the male line, and that meant I was now sole owner of Pendragon Empire, holding fifty-one percent of the stock in the company.

I was a little fuzzy on the details of how my mother and father reconciled. I knew Ingrid feared the meeting between this powerful businessman and her coming-of-age son. At some point, she must have come to some decisions regarding the transgression that took place between my father and her. While she claimed to not have known her sexual encounter was with Locke Uther, he had obviously remembered her. He never demanded a paternity test for me. He was self-assured that he was the father of Ingrid Tintagel’s only natural child.

So, I was run through the limelight of society and business again, as the son of the renowned Locke Uther. Thankfully, there were people in place to manage the day-to-day business affairs, and I just had to attend an occasional meeting to vote on decisions. One of my greatest advisors was Mure, who had always been part of the company somehow, and again seemed to know all of my secrets long before I did.

The only part of the company I was greatly interested in was the acquisition of Camelot Records. The company that sponsored that fateful competition, all those years ago, had been up on the auction block, and under the direction of Mure, I was able to retain the business. I now took interest in supporting small bands similar to Leo DeGrance and used the label to promote those bands when starting out. As business slowly began to regrow, I knew I would have to make some decisions with that venture soon as well.

When Guinie and I arrived back at the DeGrance family home, we entered again through the front door versus the back door for The Round Table. She was leading me to her father’s office when I stopped her.

“I wanted to apologize if I offended you at all today. I … I want you to understand that I think I know what you’re talking about when you say you want to be more than someone else’s name. If I can help you in any way, I’d … I’d like that.” I didn’t know why I stuttered over my words. I was a songwriter for fuck’s sake, but I was stumbling with that lately as well. I felt nervous and I rubbed my hands absentmindedly up and down the thighs of my jeans.

She didn’t answer at first, but stared at me like she wasn’t sure she believed my sincerity.

“Thank you,” she finally said with a smile.

If I had any doubt that the enchantress of my dreams was Guinevere DeGrance, it was washed away when I watched her walk down the hall away from me again. The grace in the sway of her body screamed for me to reach for her and pull her back to me.

My heart leapt into my throat. Her eyes had twinkled at me when she responded. For a moment, I felt a deep connection with her. For the second time today, I would have liked to kiss her. I caught her earlier staring at my lips, and I wanted to show her how I could use those lips to sweep her away from the worry I sensed she felt inside. I liked how she looked at my lips, like she was hungry, and she would devour me if she had a taste.

It was my own fault she knocked into my nose earlier. When she leaned forward to look at herself in the mirror, I stepped within inches of her. I was lined up with her backside, and my hand twitched to touch her ass then continue to slide up her back. I wanted to wrap my hands around her hair and brush it aside to expose what I knew would be a willing neck. If I hadn’t been so close, and been lost in my fantasy, I would have noticed she was about to stand. Instead, her sudden movement left me no warning and we collided. Although I knew she was embarrassed, I was equally embarrassed. I blinked hard against the tears that shot to my eyes from the crash, because crying would have been more embarrassing.

But then she touched me. She had stepped into my space to inspect my nose and my arm instinctively wrapped around to her lower back. She unexpectedly pulled back, just like she unexpectedly stood up, and I was too close. My hand flattened on her back and I pushed her forward into me. Her hands reached up to balance herself in the unintentional momentum and she grasped my chest. I stared at her bright eyes behind my dark glasses, happy to have them as a shield, or else my eyes might have given away my desire to kiss those enticing lips, and kiss her hard. When her hands slipped down my abs to the waist of my jeans, other parts of me rose to the occasion of her nearness, betraying my desire. I had to walk the first couple of blocks with my hands confined to my pockets to disguise the bulge.

As we made our way back to her father’s office, Kaye was awaiting our return.

“Where have you been?” Kaye bit.

“A walk,” I snapped back, unsure whether the hostility from Kaye was warranted.

“What took so long?” Kaye was obviously on edge. Something must have happened with my mother. Kaye and Ingrid had a strange relationship for not being family. He did whatever he could to please her, and she doted on him as if he were another son.

“What’s going on?” I growled low.

“Nothing.” Kaye’s eyes shifted to Guinie.

I wasn’t sure how much Guinie knew about my private life, and I noticed Leo watching her as well. He seemed to be searching her face for something, and then pinched his eyebrows when he didn’t see it. I trusted Leo DeGrance unfailingly, and I would not have questioned Leo’s decision to tell his daughter anything if he felt it was necessary. However, I also believed that if he had shared my secrets with Guinie he would have told me he had done so. Kaye was obviously nervous to discuss anything concerning Ingrid in front of Guinie, but somehow, I didn’t think that Guinie would judge me.

“What happened?” I asked again, more determination in my voice.

“Your mother is rather upset that you won’t give a concert.”

“A concert? For what?” Guinie interjected.

“Rape victims,” Kaye turned on her.

Guinie visibly flinched and I realized maybe I didn’t want her to know all the sordid details.

“I know that Ingrid has her special causes. A concert does seem a little extreme for this topic. Are there more details?”

Kaye glanced at me and I gave a slight nod of consent to continue.

“Ingrid wishes to host a concert that raises awareness of domestic abuse and the support women need to survive after they have left a troubled situation.”

“What do you want to do?” she addressed me. It struck me that few people asked me that question. I wasn’t sure how to respond.

Guinevere was thoughtful for a moment before she continued. “A concert? Where?”

“The Met.”

“Why there?”

“You know Ingrid, honey. She likes to be over the top,” her father responded. I noticed that Guinie flinched at this and a vague memory came to my mind of her eighteenth birthday party. I was there, but not for Guinevere.

“Let me talk to her.”

All three of us men sucked in a breath. I wasn’t so sure this would be a good idea. Ingrid Tintagel could be difficult to persuade once she had a mission in mind. Guinie excused herself and left the office.

“How was the walk, Arturo?” Leo asked. His tone was cheerful and he seemed rather eager to hear that the time was pleasant. He now had that strange look on his face from watching Guinie directed at me.

“Fine.”

“What did you think of Guinie?”

I found this a rather strange question. Leo, who did not share personal information often, was now asking how I liked his daughter? And after he was the one who asked me to take a walk with Guinie in the first place? This was a huge shift from Leo’s typical behavior and I sensed something more was going on.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really spoken with her before, but it was fine.”

Leo must have decided not to press the issue further, whatever his agenda had been, and I was spared from answering any additional questions when Guinevere reappeared.

“The concert will be here. It’s more casual than the Met. Being a smaller venue she has to charge more per ticket to make what she’s budgeting. She’ll charge one thousand a ticket. We need to assure her a montage of bands to replace the fact that The Nights will only play two songs. I told her you would donate all proceeds from the bar to her cause as well,” Guinie added to her father.

“What?” Leo gulped.

“It’s one night to support women who have been abused and need support. Surely we can spare one night for those in need?” But Guinie wasn’t asking, she was demanding, and on that final word she exited the room.

I had to smile at her conviction.