A Fortunes Of Texas Christmas. Helen Lacey

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СКАЧАТЬ knew who Kate was, of course. Everyone knew the iconic Kate Fortune. But she was surprised how genuine and down-to-earth the other woman was. They had talked for close to an hour about the ranch and Robin’s job, and the following day Kate called to offer her a position as the head groundskeeper. It was a no-brainer to accept the job—better salary, great working conditions and the opportunity to showcase her skills as a landscape designer. Working for Kate was a dream come true and Robin liked the older woman and her sweet-natured husband, Sterling Foster, immensely.

      “Got a call from O’Neill’s this morning,” Otis said the moment she dropped her bag in the small room she used as an office in the back of the greenhouse. “They said that fancy fertilizer you wanted is back in stock.”

      Otis Duke, in his midseventies, had a bad leg and back, but he knew more about roses and camellias than anyone she knew. She’d known him for years, ever since she was a fifth grader, in fact. Back then he was younger and fitter and had worked as a groundskeeper for the elementary school. When he was laid off due to restructuring, he’d found it impossible to get another job because of his age. But Robin wasn’t fazed and had offered him a part-time position the moment Kate hired her. Otis was her right hand and a good friend. She also had two other staff who worked a rotating schedule.

      Robin dropped her keys in the bowl on her makeshift desk and turned to face Otis. “Great, thanks. I’ll head into town to pick it up later.” She grabbed the clipboard hanging on a hook by the door. “We have to pull up the three flower beds around the rotunda today so we can plant them out with the pansies that arrive tomorrow. I drew a quick sketch of the design,” she said and pointed to the outlines. “We can use Swiss chard here, and I thought we could try using ornamental cabbage around the edge for something a little different this year.”

      Otis nodded. “Good choice. You certainly have an eye for this stuff. Mrs. Fortune stands a good chance of taking a prize this year.”

      Robin was certain that Otis cared more about the annual prizes awarded by the local arbor society than either Kate or Sterling, but she nodded agreeably and gave him a copy of the plans. They had a busy day scheduled and needed to get started. And this time, Robin thought as she walked through the greenhouse and headed for the toolshed, she wouldn’t get waylaid by any kind of dazzling Frenchman.

      Of course, her dreams had been plagued by images of Amersen Beaudin and his brilliant blue eyes. And broad shoulders. And hot body. But she supposed the man couldn’t help it if he was sex on legs. It was pure genetics that made him so damned attractive. And, she figured, a good slug of charm.

      Just stay immune...

      That should be easy. With a little luck, she’d never see him again.

      That decided, Robin got started on the day’s chores and, after a quick trip into town to pick up the fertilizer she’d ordered, spent the remainder of the morning working on the beds around the rotunda with Otis. She was about to get to her feet and stretch out her back when the old man moved around to the patch she was digging up and called her name.

      “What?” she asked, looking up.

      “You know that fancy limo that was here yesterday?” he said, both brows raised.

      Her insides twitched. “Yes.”

      “It’s back.”

      * * *

      Amersen had spent the better part of the past sixteen or so hours thinking about Kate Fortune’s proposition and what it would mean if he decided to get involved. The hotel room, as swanky and comfortable as it was, had been a little cloistering, and he’d spent some of the morning walking the streets of Austin, familiarizing himself with the place. It was a nice city, and in an odd way, its diversity reminded him of Paris.

      Kate called midmorning to arrange a meeting and he agreed quickly, eager to have a more detailed conversation with her about the proposal. The opportunity to be part of the Fortune portfolio appealed to him, but it also felt like a red flag waved in front of a bull.

      He wasn’t ready to be outed as Gerald Robinson’s biological son, especially since Gerald clearly had no interest in him. And the closer he got to anyone named Fortune, the greater the risk of that happening. But to dismiss the business potential...that could turn into career suicide. He wanted to expand his brand through Europe and into the United States, and he wasn’t going to let an insignificant fact such as being Gerald’s illegitimate son derail those plans.

      When the limo pulled up outside the ranch house, he had all his usual resolve back with a vengeance. And yet, as he got out of the limo and walked up the path to Kate’s home, he was foolishly thinking about the woman in white. She’d invaded his dreams the night before—with her beautiful hair and sassy mouth—and he wanted to see her again. He looked toward the rotunda and tried to ignore the disappointment that briefly constricted his chest.

      Stay focused, Beaudin.

      Kate greeted him warmly, dressed impeccably in black and white iconic Chanel.

      “Thank you for coming back to see me,” she said. “Coffee?”

      He nodded. “Sure. So, you said you had some more detail from our discussion yesterday?”

      “Yes,” she replied and poured coffee for them both. Once they were both seated, she pushed a narrow gray folder across the coffee table. “Take a look.”

      Amersen flipped through the pages, reading quickly, scanning the proposal with interest. The outline was brief but detailed enough to pique his curiosity.

      “Amersen Noir,” she said and smiled, her brows arched. “It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

      He couldn’t deny her savvy. Piggybacking on the success of his nightclub made good business sense.

      It was cologne. High-end and obviously expensive. And with his name on the bottle. There were stats, graphs and a mocked-up illustration of the product.

      “It’s an interesting concept,” he said quietly. “Although, as I said yesterday, I’m not sure my name alone is enough to successfully market a new fragrance.”

      She smiled. “Your name and your image. And as with any new product, there would be an extensive brand campaign...billboards, media, advertising targeted to the customer this product would be designed for—primarily eighteen-to thirty-five-year-olds with significant disposable income. Much like yourself,” she added and smiled again. “Interested?”

      “Intrigued,” he replied. “Conceptually, it’s an attractive idea. But I’m still not convinced my...image, as you put it, would be enough enticement as a selling tool.”

      “You’re being modest.”

      Amersen laughed. “Once you get to know me, Ms. Fortune, you’ll discover that modesty isn’t something I’m known for.”

      Her mouth curled. “I’m quite aware of your image, Amersen. And your reputation. You’re successful, hardworking, arrogant, opinionated, brash and cynical. And that’s what this product and campaign needs. I think you possess that elusive Midas touch. And I want to capitalize on that, because it’s good business.”

      Kate was frank, which he liked, but her confidence didn’t entirely allay his concerns. “And what if these arrogant, spendthrift workaholics don’t come to the party?”

      “They СКАЧАТЬ