Sweet Fortune

claim David if he thought he was his son?”
    “Exactly. Vince has always wanted a son.”
    “I think you're right,” Jessie said slowly. “So why does Aunt Glenna think she has such a big claim on Dad?”
    Lilian shrugged. “Must have been that brief affair they shared all those years ago. Some women don't know how to let go.”

    Jessie awakened in the middle of the night, aware that something was wrong. It took her a minute or two to realize that Hatch had left the bed. She lay without opening her eyes, listening for noises from the bathroom. When there were none, she listened for noises from the kitchen.
    When the ominous stillness became oppressive, she finally lifted her lashes. The first thing she noticed was the faint glow of light coming from the living room. She glanced at the bedside clock and saw that it was nearly two in the morning.
    Pushing back the covers, she got out of bed, pulled on a robe, and traipsed toward the door. A niggling suspicion was gnawing at her. She paused in the hallway when she saw Hatch sitting at the kitchen counter. He had put on his trousers, but no shirt. His bare feet were hooked over the bottom rung of the stool. His briefcase was open on the floor at his feet. Papers and computer printouts were scattered across the top of the counter. He was punching numbers into a small calculator.
    Jessie leaned against the wall, arms folded beneath her breasts. “Couldn't sleep?”
    He glanced up, eyes hooded and watchful. “I didn't know you were awake.”
    “Obviously.” She straightened away from the wall and ambled slowly over to the counter. “It's all right, you know. You could have just told me earlier this evening you had to work on some papers after dinner. I'm not a total fanatic about your schedule.”
    “Yes, you are.”
    She scowled at him as she opened the refrigerator door and started rummaging around inside. “Not true. I accept the fact that there will be the odd occasion when your work requires some overtime. I can tolerate a reasonable amount. After all, as you pointed out, look what my job requires in the way of unusual hours. There I was having to run around at midnight up in the San Juans.” She closed the refrigerator door and carried a plate of cream cheese over to the counter.
    “Let's not start making comparisons between my job and yours.” Hatch eyed the cream cheese. “What are you doing?”
    “Fixing a little midnight snack. As long as I'm up, I might as well eat. Want a bagel?” She hovered near the toaster oven, bagel in hand.
    “All right.”
    Jessie smiled benignly and popped the bagels beneath the broiler. “Now, then, suppose you tell me what was so terribly important you had to sneak around in the middle of the night to work on it?”
    “First tell me how mad you are.”
    She looked at him innocently. “Not mad at all.”
    He looked unconvinced. “Okay. I had an idea on a new approach to use on this bid your father wants to make to undercut Yorland and Young. Thought I'd crunch the numbers and see how it looked.”
    “Dad really wants to get that Spokane contract, doesn't he?”
    “Yes.”
    “It's personal, you know.”
    “No, I didn't know,” Hatch said, looking at her with new interest. “But I was beginning to wonder. This thing just isn't big enough to bother with unless there are extenuating circumstances.”
    Jessie checked the bagels and decided they were ready. She opened the toaster-oven door. “Yorland and Young pulled a fast one on Benedict Fasteners a couple of years ago. Walked off with an important contract that Dad felt should have been his. He just wants revenge, that's all.”
    Hatch nodded thoughtfully. “I can understand that.”
    “I rather thought you would.” Jessie plunked the hot bagels down on a plate and carried them over to the counter. She sat down across from Hatch. “I'll try not to get cream cheese on your important stuff.”
    “Appreciate that.” Hatch watched her slather cream cheese on a bagel.
    “So how did you get to be such a big authority on revenge? Who taught you to understand my father's point of view?”
    “It's not important,” Hatch said softly. “It was all over a long time ago.”
    “Oh, yeah?” She eyed him with interest. “So what company did you squash or beat out or otherwise get even with?”
    “A company called Patterson-Finley. It was an engineering firm.”
    Jessie stared at him, remembering the day of the science fair when her father had bragged about how