Sweet Fortune

stairs that everyone appeared to have forgotten she was the one who had organized the rescue of Susan Attwood. She should have thought twice about letting Hatch go along on the mission. That was the problem with a natural leader. He gave orders naturally and people naturally tended to follow them. Afterward he got all the credit. Naturally. Nobody recalled who the real brains of the operations had been.
    Aunt Glenna was standing at the window gazing down at the sidewalk below when Jessie pushed open the door and walked into the office. She was dressed in a crisp, sober gray suit with a pale blue blouse and low businesslike pumps. When she turned her head Jessie could see that her eyes looked even more serious than usual behind the lenses of her black-framed glasses.
    “There you are, Jessie. Your friend downstairs let me in.” Glenna glanced at her watch. “I can't stay long.”
    “Have a seat, Aunt Glenna.” Jessie dropped into the chair behind the rolltop desk and decided to take the offensive. “I expect you're here to congratulate me on my engagement.”
    Glenna did not move from her position near the window. “There's no need to be facetious, Jessie,” she said gently.
    “Sorry.”
    “I am naturally concerned that you know what you are doing. There has been a great deal of pressure on you from the rest of the family to go through with this marriage.”
    Jessie smiled and leaned back in the squeaky chair. She picked up a pencil and began tapping the point on the desk. “It's all right, Aunt Glenna. I promise you, I've come to this decision all by myself. I know what I'm doing and I'm not doing it to please the family. I appreciate your concern, though.”
    Glenna nodded slowly. “I was afraid of that. You're doing it for yourself, aren't you?”
    “Yes.”
    “I had begun to suspect that.”
    Jessie scowled. “Suspect it?”
    “It's strange, really. But I never thought you were the type to become obsessed with your role as Vincent's heir. I always believed it had been thrust upon you and was basically unwelcome. I assumed, based on the patterns of early childhood, that your tendency to be an enabler had motivated you to accept the role, but I never actually thought you wanted it. I never thought the money and the power meant that much to you.”
    “Money and power? What are you talking about?”
    “I always saw you as trapped. I actually felt sorry for you, you know. I wanted to help you set yourself free. But now it's obvious that you're in this position willingly.”
    Jessie sat forward abruptly, shocked. “Aunt Glenna, what is this all about? I'm not marrying Hatch in order to get control of the company. The last thing I want is control of Benedict Fasteners.”
    “Are you certain of that, Jessie? Have you looked deep within and asked yourself why you really want to marry Sam Hatchard? Isn't it just possible that you've grown to like your position in the family? That what started out as a way of forcing Vincent to bond with his family has now become a means of exercising power?”
    Jessie's eyes widened. “You're crazy, Aunt Glenna.” She realized what she had just said and flushed in embarrassment. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean that literally.”
    “Jessie, ask yourself if the real reason you're marrying Hatchard isn't that you think you'll be able to control the company through him. You can have it all this way, can't you? The power that goes with being Vincent's heir and none of the responsibility for actually managing Benedict Fasteners.”
    “For heaven's sake.” Jessie tossed the pencil down on the desk. “Even if I was marrying to secure my position as Dad's heir, I'd be a fool to think I could control the company through Hatch. Nobody controls Hatch.”
    “That's probably true. But you may have deluded yourself into thinking you can control him. You may think you can manipulate him the way you've learned to manipulate your father.”
    “I don't manipulate Dad.”
    “Of course you do. You're the only one who can, and everyone in the family knows it. That's why you've become the intermediary for everyone else.” Glenna's voice was still remote and detached. The psychological authoritarian of the Benedict clan was pronouncing judgment.
    “On the rare occasions when he listens,” Jessie concluded crisply, “I can sometimes get Dad to pay attention and do the right thing. But that's only because I'm willing to dig in and go toe to toe with him. You know as well as I do that