Sweet Fortune

her little bombshell about starting an investigation. First time I've ever seen you looking like you'd been caught off-guard, Hatch. I'd have gotten a good laugh out of it if we'd been talking about anything else except Jessie's damn-fool cult-busting project.”
    “All right, maybe you…maybe we are seriously concerned over nothing.” Hatch swung around to face him. “Look, the worst that can happen is that Jessie manages to locate the headquarters of this DEL crowd and asks to see Susan Attwood. Or maybe she'll try to talk to the leader, the one they call Bright.”
    “So?”
    “So, think about it logically, Vincent. How would you react? More than likely Jessie will be politely told to mind her own business and that will be the end of things. She's not a threat to anyone, and whoever's running the show at Dawn's Early Light will know that. They'll treat her like an annoying reporter and just stonewall her.”
    Vincent gave that some thought. “You're probably right. But, hell, I wish she'd stay out of it. Why can't she find a regular job like everybody else?”
    “Jessie's not like everyone else.” Hatch walked over to the desk and stood looking down at the huge basket of bright flowers. “Does she always bring you flowers on your birthday?”
    Vincent's eyes softened as he followed Hatch's gaze. “Started a couple of years after Elizabeth was born. Connie and I were already having problems and she and Lilian were talking about going into the interior-design business together. They were spending a lot of time on the project and somehow Jessie wound up taking care of Elizabeth a lot. One day Jessie showed up here at the office with a bunch of flowers in one arm and her little sister in the other. Said she was taking me to lunch. Been the same every year since. I've sort of gotten used to it.”
    Hatch cautiously touched the petal of a flame-colored lily. It was as soft as gossamer silk, as brilliant as a sunrise. “Kind of strange. Giving a man flowers, I mean.”
    “Like I said, you get used to it.”
    “Nobody's ever brought me flowers.”
    “Don't whine about it,” Vincent said with a grin. “Marry the woman and you'll probably get flowers for your birthday too. How did things go last night?”
    “The Galloway deal is closed.”
    “Well, hell, I know that. I mean how did things go between you and my daughter?”
    “I'm not going to tell you every detail of my personal life, Benedict. But I will tell you this: I found out I'm working under a serious handicap.”
    “What handicap?”
    “She thinks I'm too much like you in some ways.”
    “Bullshit. That's just an excuse. Besides, she likes me.”
    Hatch remembered Jessie's quivering mouth crushed beneath his own and the feel of her arms wrapped around his neck. “She likes me too. But she doesn't think I'll make her a good husband. Says she doesn't want to marry a man who's more concerned about his work than his family.”
    “ Women . They don't understand the demands of the business world. Always want to come first in a man's life. You'd think they'd figure out that companies like Benedict Fasteners don't just run themselves. I thought Jessie would have more common sense.”
    “Something tells me common sense is not one of Jessie's biggest virtues,” Hatch said.
    Vincent scowled. “Jessie's all right. Hell, what you said at lunch hit the nail on the head. She's real loyal. In the end she always does what's best for the family. You know what the real problem is here? You're still making her nervous. That's what the real problem is. You want some advice, Hatch? Stop making her nervous, goddammit.”
    “Advice? From a man with two ex-wives? Forget it. I'd rather muddle through this on my own.” Hatch ceased stroking the scarlet lily and headed toward the door.
    But on the way back down the hall to his office, Vincent's words rang in his ears. She always does what's best for the family . Hatch nodded in cool satisfaction. He was counting on it.

    “So how did the big date go last night?” Elizabeth asked as Jessie drove her back toward her Bellevue school.
    “I told you, it wasn't a date, it was a business dinner.” Jessie guided her little red Toyota onto the bridge that crossed Lake Washington via Mercer Island. She kept her expression serious, trying to look as if she was having to concentrate very hard on the sparse afternoon traffic. Elizabeth knew better.
    “Hey, Jessie, this is me, your very smart kid sister,