Absolutely, Positively

  “This is Molly Abberwick,” Harry said, annoyed by the expression of amazement on Brandon’s face. “Molly, this is my cousin Brandon Hughes. Aunt Danielle’s son. Olivia’s husband.”

  Molly nodded. “How do you do, Brandon? We’re just about to eat. Have you had breakfast?”

  “Yes. Thanks.” Brandon’s eyes narrowed. He glanced speculatively at Harry. “So this engagement is for real?”

  “It’s real, all right.” Harry took his seat at the counter.

  “Sort of sudden, isn’t it?” Brandon asked.

  “Time is relative.” Molly gave Brandon a smile that was sweeter than the sugar she was spooning lightly over the berries. “Harry and I feel we know each other well enough to commit to marriage. Don’t we, Harry?”

  “Yes,” Harry said. “Why don’t you sit down, Brandon?”

  “I’d rather talk to you in your study.”

  “Too bad. I’d rather eat breakfast.” Harry glanced at the bowl of raspberries Molly had set in front of him. “Give me those muffins and the knife.”

  Wordlessly, Molly handed him the requested items. Harry went to work slicing the muffins.

  “If you won’t have coffee, how about some tea, Brandon?” Molly asked. “I’m making a pot for myself.”

  “No, thanks. Look, Harry, this is a personal matter.” Brandon shot a quick look at Molly. “Family business.”

  “From now on,” Harry said softly, “Molly is family. My family. Anything you want to say to me can be said in front of her.”

  Brandon’s mouth compressed into a thin line. “The two of you are engaged, not married.”

  “Same thing as far as I’m concerned.” Harry handed the neatly sliced muffins across the counter to Molly. “Talk if you want to talk. Otherwise, you can leave. I’ve got a busy day ahead.”

  Brandon took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Harry, let’s be realistic here. Given your track record, I don’t think you should be counting chickens until they’re hatched.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Harry asked.

  “You want me to spell it out?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know damn well what I’m trying to say.” Brandon glanced uneasily at Molly, who smiled brightly in return. He turned back to Harry. “Look, this is a little awkward. Let’s go into your study.”

  No.

  Brandon lost his temper. “I can hardly be expected to discuss sensitive matters in front of a stranger.”

  “I told you, Molly’s not a stranger. She’s going to be my wife.” Brandon reddened. “Not according to Olivia. She thinks this engagement isn’t any more likely to survive than your other one did. And she should know.”

  “Think so?”

  “She knows people, Harry. It’s her job, remember?” Brandon had the grace to give Molly an apologetic look. “My wife is a clinical psychologist. One of the best in the city.”

  “Yes, I know,” Molly said demurely. “We’ve met. She was kind enough to give me some free advice.”

  Brandon turned back to Harry. “I’m sure Molly is very discreet, and I have absolutely nothing against her. But until you actually get yourself married, I’m not prepared to discuss my business in front of an outsider.”

  Harry reached the end of his patience. He came up off the stool in a movement that caused Brandon to take a hurried step back.

  “You came here to talk,” Harry said very softly. “Say what you want to say or leave.”

  “All right, if that’s the way you’re going to be,” Brandon said stiffly, “I’ll come back later.”

  “I may not be here later,” Harry said. “I’ve got plans for the day.”

  “You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you? You’re trying to make this as difficult for me as possible. What do you want me to do? Grovel to you just because you convinced Granddad to let me go out on my own?”

  “Why don’t you ask Olivia? She seems to think she’s an authority on my motives.” Harry sat down again and picked up his spoon.

  “Whoa. Time out.” Molly formed a referee’s T with her hands. “I vote we call a truce here.” She put a cup and saucer on the counter. “Here, have some coffee, Brandon. Gordon Brooke’s finest. It’s his Dark Seattle Roast.”

  Harry looked up from his raspberries. He was irritated. “I didn’t know we were drinking a Gordon Brooke blend.”

  “Not me. You. Personally, I never touch the stuff. And don’t look at me that way. Your housekeeper bought it.”

  “Remind me to have Ginny buy another brand.” Harry went back to his raspberries. “Either sit down or leave, Brandon. I don’t like having you hover while I eat.”

  Brandon fumed for a minute longer, and then he subsided onto a stool. He picked up the coffee cup Molly had given him and took a long swallow. When he was finished he set the cup down with a soft crash. “Okay, let’s talk.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’m here because I want to discuss the financing of my new plans. Granddad has agreed to let me leave the company without any repercussions, which is a great relief to Mother and Olivia, but he won’t help me.”

  “Hold it right there,” Harry said. “I’m not a bank. I talked to Parker for you, but that’s as far as I can go.”

  “That’s not true. You know people, Harry.” Brandon fiddled with his coffee cup. “I’m aware that you arranged financing for one of your Trevelyan relatives when she decided to buy that carnival amusement company.”

  “That was different.”

  “Yeah? How was it different? Don’t your Stratton relatives count?”

  “My Stratton relatives are all rich.”

  “Not all of them,” Brandon said meaningfully. “When I leave Stratton Properties, I’m going to be on my own.”

  “Olivia charges her patients as much as a good tax attorney charges her clients. You won’t starve.”

  “It’s true, we’ll have Olivia’s income to live on until I establish myself,” Brandon said. “But she can’t afford to capitalize an operation the size of the one I’m planning. You know that as well as I do.”

  “So?” Harry could feel Molly watching him from the other side of the counter.

  “So the banks won’t touch me unless Stratton Properties is involved in the loan. Even if I could talk Granddad or Uncle Gilford into backing me, I’d rather not,” Brandon said. “You know that if they’re involved, they’ll try to take over.”

  “True.”

  Brandon frowned. “I think I know why you never joined Stratton Properties.”

  “My interests lie in other areas.”

  “Tell me something. Did you know that when you came to live here in Seattle, the whole family was convinced that you were out to take your Stratton relatives for whatever you could get?”

  Harry set his spoon down with great care. “That was evident from the start.”

  “Granddad said it was the Trevelyan blood in you. He said you would try to con us Strattons out of what you figured was your rightful inheritance. He said he wouldn’t give you a dime unless you proved that you were a true Stratton.”

  “Which meant joining the company,” Harry finished wearily. “Brandon, this is old history. What do you want from me?”

  Brandon straightened his shoulders. “You’ve got some contacts with venture capitalists because of the technical consulting work you’ve done. I want you to introduce me to some of the money people. I’m not asking you to go out on a limb for me. I just want the introductions. I’ll take it from there.”

  Harry looked at Molly. She gave him a wry, understanding smile but said nothing. He turned to Brandon. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Relief flared in Brandon’s eyes. “Thanks.” He got to his feet. “You won’t regret this, Harry. Like I said, I’ll make my presentations to the investors and tak
e my chances. Just put me in touch with people who are interested in making sound investments.”

  “On one condition,” Harry temporized.

  “What’s that?”

  “Give me your word of honor that you’ll do your best to stop Olivia from handing out her professional opinions of my psychological profile to all and sundry. It’s getting to be annoying.”

  Brandon was plainly startled. He started to scowl, and then a spark of reluctant amusement lit his gaze. “I’ll try, but it might not be easy.”

  “I know.” Harry caught Molly’s eye. “But I’d appreciate it if you could convince her to keep her diagnoses to herself. Just tell her some people don’t mind hours of boredom broken by moments of stark terror.”

  Brandon looked mildly baffled. But he shrugged it off and turned to leave. Then he stopped and smiled at Molly. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “You bet,” she said. “Oh, by the way, Brandon, Harry and I are planning a big wedding. Everyone in both families will be invited. We’ll expect you and Olivia, of course.”

  “Olivia and I will attend,” Brandon said slowly. “But I wouldn’t count on any of the others from the Stratton side of the family unless you can guarantee that none of the Trevelyans will be there.”

  “Everyone will be there,” Molly repeated coolly.

  Brandon glanced at Harry. Harry said nothing. He knew as well as Brandon did that there was no hope of getting all of the Strattons and Trevelyans to attend the wedding. Sooner or later, Molly would have to face that simple fact of life.

  “Right, well, I’d better get going,” Brandon said hastily. He headed toward the door, his step a good deal lighter than it had been when he entered earlier.

  18

  “How the hell can you be certain that Trevelyan’s not marrying you in order to get his hands on the foundation assets?” Gordon grumbled as he scooped up the papers he had spread out on the counter. “That’s all I want to know. How can you be so damned sure?”

  Molly regarded Gordon with an acute sense of irritation. It was shortly after five. Tessa was in the storage room, finishing some labels for a mail order shipment. Harry would be here any moment. It was time to close the shop and go home.

  Home.

  It struck her that she was home when she was with Harry. She wondered if he felt the same way when he was with her. She hoped he did. He needed a sense of home more than any man she had ever known.

  Gordon had appeared at the door of Abberwick Tea & Spice just as Molly was turning the CLOSED sign in the window. He had stuck one foot in the door and made another pitch for financing. Molly had allowed him to ramble on about his new expansion plans as she tidied the shop for the night. When he had finished his arguments in favor of using Abberwick funds to promote Gordon Brooke Espresso Bars, she had politely refused. Again.

  Gordon had turned quite red in the face. He seemed unable to accept either her unwillingness to finance him or her engagement to Harry. The two seemed to be linked together in Gordon’s mind, and for some reason it was the latter that apparently annoyed him the most.

  “I just don’t get it, Molly.” Gordon dumped the papers into a leather file. “Why are you so sure you can trust him?”

  “It’s none of your business, is it?”

  Gordon contrived to appear hurt. “We’ve known each other a long time. It’s only natural that I’m concerned about you.”

  “Let’s be honest here.” Molly leaned against the spice counter and regarded Gordon with an impatience she did not bother to conceal. “What you’re really asking me is how do I know that Harry is not another you, isn’t it? How do I know I won’t discover the hard way that he has a taste for pretty counter assistants?”

  Gordon flushed. “Don’t twist my words.”

  “I don’t owe you any explanations,” she continued. “But the truth is, I’m absolutely, positively certain that Harry is not another Gordon Brooke. How do I know this? I think it has something to do with the way he hums.”

  Gordon ignored that. “It’s not a joke, damn it. I’m just trying to keep you from making a big mistake. One that could cost you a fortune.”

  “I doubt if it will cost me as much as financing several new Gordon Brooke Espresso Bars.”

  “The espresso bars would be an investment,” Gordon insisted. “That’s a whole different matter. This is your future I’m concerned about. Molly, you control a lot of money through the Abberwick Foundation. Chances are the assets will continue to grow through the years. How can you be sure that you’ll be able to keep it out of Trevelyan’s hands? You’ve made him your technical consultant, for Christ’s sake.”

  “So?”

  “So he’ll be making all the important decisions.”

  “No, he won’t. I will be making the important decisions.” Molly was thoroughly irritated now. “Why does everyone assume that I’m a complete idiot when it comes to the Abberwick Foundation? What makes you think that I’m going to turn control of the assets over to Harry or anyone else?”

  Gordon waved his hands in a soothing gesture. “Take it easy. Calm down. I was just trying to point out the facts.”

  “The heck you were. You’re trying to undermine my relationship with my fiancé. I’m not going to listen to another word.”

  “Okay, okay. If that’s the way you’re going to be about it, fine. But don’t blame me when you wake up some morning and discover the assets of the Abberwick Foundation have vanished sometime during the night.”

  “Out. Now.”

  “I’m leaving.” Gordon clutched his file of papers and started to back toward the door. “But if you had an ounce of common sense, you’d—” He broke off abruptly as he collided heavily with Harry, who had just opened the door. “Ooph.”

  Harry didn’t flinch under the impact, but Molly noticed that Gordon bounced a little.

  Gordon recovered and swung around to see who was standing behind him. “What the hell are you doing here, Trevelyan?”

  “I’m engaged to Molly, remember?” Harry said.

  “You could have knocked,” Gordon muttered.

  “The door was unlocked.”

  “Gordon was just leaving.” Molly gave Gordon a steely look. “Isn’t that right?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way,” Gordon grumbled.

  “Don’t let me stop you.” Harry moved politely out of the doorway.

  Tessa emerged from the storage room. “The labels are done, Molly. I’m off.”

  Molly stilled. She glanced at Tessa, and then she looked at Gordon.

  “Gordon?” she said softly.

  “What?” He turned to scowl at her from the doorway.

  “Want some advice?”

  He looked distinctly wary. “What sort of advice?”

  Molly tapped one finger on the counter, thinking swiftly. “You put out a good product. I don’t care for coffee, but I know that yours is some of the best in the city.”

  “So?”

  “You got into trouble with your espresso bars because you expanded too rapidly,” Molly said. “If you’re serious about salvaging your business, you’re going to have to pay closer attention to the basics of running your operation. You need professional advice regarding marketing techniques, packaging, and advertising.”

  “Yeah?” Gordon glared, half-defiant, half-intrigued. “Where do you suggest I get that advice?”

  “From Tessa,” Molly said.

  A startled hush fell on the shop.

  Tessa reacted first. “What are you talking about, Molly? Are you saying I should give Gordon the benefit of everything I’ve learned working for you?”

  “Only if he’s willing to pay for it,” Molly murmured.

  Tessa was incensed. “You actually want me to help the competition? You want me to show him how to beef up his advertising program? Redesign his packagin
g? Tell him how to handle suppliers? What would that make me?”

  “A consultant,” Harry said.

  Tessa blinked. Then she met Gordon’s eyes across the room.

  “A consultant.” Tessa savored the word.

  “I couldn’t afford much in the way of consulting fees,” Gordon warned.

  “That’s okay,” Tessa said smoothly. “I’ll take a percentage of the profits.”

  “There aren’t any at the moment,” Gordon said.

  Tessa glanced at Molly and then smiled. “There will be.”

  Gordon hesitated. “You want to go have a latte and talk about it?”

  “Sure,” Tessa said. “What have I got to lose?” She grabbed her oversized backpack and followed him out of the shop.

  Harry raised one brow as the door closed behind the pair. “Should I be concerned about this sudden show of compassion for Brooke?”

  Molly was surprised by the question. “I didn’t do that for Gordon’s sake. I did it for Tessa.”

  “I see.”

  “Tessa has a feel for sales and marketing,” Molly said. “She’s a natural, but she’ll never fit in with corporate America. I’ve been worrying about her future. She can’t work as my assistant forever. She needs to find a specialized niche where she can develop her talents. It occurred to me that Gordon Brooke Espresso Bars may be a good place to start.”

  Harry’s eyes gleamed. “Know what I think?”

  “What?”

  “I think that, in addition to the Abberwick curiosity, you also got the family urge to tinker. It just so happens that you do your tinkering with people rather than inanimate objects.”

  “Never mind Tessa and Gordon. Any news from your investigator?”

  The wry humor vanished from Harry’s gaze. “Rice phoned twenty minutes ago. He finally located the car and made arrangements with the owner of the wrecking yard. I’m going to take a look at Kendall’s Ford in the morning.”

  “You’re going to fly to Portland tomorrow morning?”

  “First thing.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Molly said.

  “What about your shop?”

  “Tessa can handle things here tomorrow. She can bring in one of the other women in the band if she needs help.”