Sweet Fortune

stick,” Jessie said.
    “For better or worse, I'm afraid so,” her mother agreed. “In a very real way, you've been what Glenna likes to call the caretaker in the family, haven't you? The one who holds things together.”
    “I think Aunt Glenna calls it being the family enabler,” Jessie muttered.
    Lilian frowned. “I'm not sure I like the fancy new words the psychologists use these days to describe the old nurturing skills. They demean them somehow. And I'm not at all sure ‘enabler’ is the right word here anyway. But it's obvious Hatch now wants you out of the role, whatever it is.”
    “He says he doesn't want me marrying him because I'm under pressure to do so,” Jessie said slowly.
    Constance pounced on that remark. “He's asked you, then?”
    “No, not exactly. He's just sort of assumed we'll get married. You know how men like that operate. They're like generals. They set a goal and they just keep driving toward it until they've achieved their objective.”
    Lilian eyed her curiously. “Does that strange expression on your face mean you're contemplating the same objective Hatch has in mind? Are you finally thinking seriously about marriage?”
    “No, dammit, I am not. I seem to be involved in an affair with him, but that's as far as it's going to go.”
    “But, Jessie, why?” Constance stared at her, perplexed. “If you like him enough to have an affair with him, why not marry him?”
    Jessie looked away and suddenly she was crying. “Dammit, I will not spend the rest of my life fighting for a man's love. That's one pattern I will not repeat.”
    “Jessie. Oh, Jessie, honey, don't cry.” Lilian leapt to her feet and stepped around her desk to crouch beside Jessie's chair. She put her arms around her and held her close, rocking her gently the way she had when Jessie had been a child and Vincent Benedict had canceled yet another outing on account of business. “It's all right, dear. It's going to be all right.”
    Jessie groped blindly for a tissue, disgusted with her loss of control and frightened by what it signified about the depth of her feelings for Hatch.
    There was silence in the office for a while. Jessie blinked back the tears and blew her nose a couple of times. Then she gave her mother a watery smile. “Sorry. I've been under a lot of pressure lately.”
    “Being in love can do that,” Constance observed gently. “It's quite all right, Jessie. Your mother and I understand. Every woman understands.”
    “I'm not going to marry him, you know.” Jessie wiped her eyes, crushed the tissue, and hurled it into the stylish black cylinder that served as a trashcan. “I am going to enjoy an affair with him for as long as it lasts and then I will walk away. It's highly probable he will walk away first when it finally dawns on him that he's not going to get what he wants.”
    “You really believe he wants to marry you only because of Benedict Fasteners?” Lilian asked quietly.
    “No,” Jessie admitted. “It's a hell of a lot more complicated than that. He admires Dad. Wants to please him. And then there's the business angle. We all know that marrying me would be an excellent business move for him. And I admit, there's a physical attraction. I think what it boils down to is that he's satisfied with the package deal.”
    “Jessie, I think Hatch's feelings run a lot more deeply than that. Whatever else he is, he's simply not a superficial kind of man. Even I know that much about him,” Lilian said firmly.
    “He doesn't say he loves me,” Jessie sniffed sadly. “He says he thinks he can trust me. Says he thinks I'll be loyal. His first wife was running off to meet another man when she was killed, you know. His mother left him and his father when Hatch was only five. Loyalty is very important to Hatch. A lot more important than love, I think. I'm not sure he'll ever trust in love again.”
    “Frankly, it sounds like the two of you have an excellent basis for a relationship, Jessie,” Constance stated.
    “Trust and attraction and a couple of good business reasons are apparently enough for Hatch. But they're not enough for me.”
    Lilian pursed her lips thoughtfully as she got to her feet. “Are you sure you're not romanticizing this whole thing a bit too much, Jessie? You're twenty-seven, not seventeen. How much can you realistically expect from a man?”
    Constance nodded. “Your mother's right, Jessie. You're old enough not to need rose-colored glasses. I hate to break this