Billion Dollar Bride. Muriel Jensen

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СКАЧАТЬ relished it, knowing that the next ten years would pass with the speed of the last ten and he’d soon be in college somewhere thinking about business and women and forgetting to give his mother the time of day.

      She studied him as he drew away and leaned against her desk, his white sweater smudged and his jeans muddy at the knees. He had her dark hair and eyes, though he’d inherited his father’s aristocratic nose and chin. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and a usually serious air, though he did have a wry sense of humor and a sunny smile. He smiled at her now.

      “You’re always saying that one day Michael Keaton’s going to come and take you away to the Batcave. I thought he might have come while I was gone.”

      “As if I’d leave for the Batcave without you. Did you eat all your lunch?”

      “Except for the carrot sticks I traded to Ashley Bates.”

      “Traded for what?”

      “A cupcake.”

      Anna groaned. “Will, I try to balance your lunch so that you get all the nutrition you—”

      “Mom,” he interrupted reasonably, “if someone wanted to give you a cupcake for your carrot sticks, you’d have to be brain-dead not to make the deal. It was like getting Microsoft stock for railroad shares.”

      Anna laughed and hugged him again. He was the best thing in a life filled with pretty good stuff, and she never took that for granted for a moment.

      “What did you have for lunch?” he asked, falling into her client’s chair.

      “Caesar salad with shrimp.”

      “Ah. Austin Eats again, huh? I know it’s only across the street, Mom, but you’re in a rut.”

      She nodded and pushed to her feet. “And if you don’t mind digging yourself in there with me, I noticed they had chicken and dumplings on the dinner menu.” It was one of his favorite meals—and the cook-housekeeper’s day off. “Want to eat there tonight?”

      “Please. Anything’s better than those frozen chicken and spinach calzone things we had last week.” He crossed his eyes and made a terrible face. “Even your cooking would be better than those.”

      She chased him to the elevator.

      AUSTIN EATS was a small diner with a circular counter in the middle of the room and square tables and chairs all around. It served fifty or so customers and was busy for every meal and most times in between.

      Framed photographs of local events lined the pale yellow walls, and a large bulletin board behind the cashier was a rotating gallery of new babies, birthday-party photos and postcards from vacationing patrons.

      It was like eating at home surrounded by friends and not having to cook.

      Two glasses of ice water were placed on the table the moment Anna and Will settled in one of the window booths.

      “And how are my two favorite customers?” Mary Jane Potter asked with a bright smile. She was in her early twenties and small but buff, her curly brown hair caught up in a casual topknot. She wore her Austin Eats uniform with great style and a very serious-looking pair of athletic shoes. She took a pad and pen from her apron pocket and winked at Will.

      “How’s my Scully Sports Equipment stock, Will?”

      “Up two-thirds of a point,” Will replied with a proud smile. “Slow growth is good.”

      Mary Jane grinned at him. “Then how come you’re getting so tall?”

      “He’s a blue-chip stock,” Anna said. “We’re here for the chicken and dumplings, Mary Jane. Is Shelby cooking tonight?” Shelby Lord owned Austin Eats.

      “No, Sara’s cooking.”

      “Does she make it as well as Shelby does?” Will wanted to know.

      Mary Jane scribbled on her pad. “Maybe even better. She must have worked for Wolfgang Puck in her other life. Salads or soup? The soup’s tomato rice today.”

      “Soup!” Will said with enthusiasm.

      Anna shook her head. “Neither, thanks. Just some coffee.”

      “Right. And milk for Will.”

      “Pepsi,” Will corrected.

      “Milk.” Anna overruled him. “Thanks, Mary Jane.”

      As Mary Jane left to place their order, Will pulled the napkin dispenser toward him and gave Anna two napkins, taking two for himself.

      “I don’t need strong bones,” he argued good-naturedly while replacing the dispenser. “I’m going to run a big company, not play professional basketball.”

      “All smart companies today have in-house gyms to help reduce employee stress. Thank you.” Mary Jane delivered their drinks and was gone again. “Your employees will expect to see you there.”

      He grinned. “I’ll just show up in the sauna like Uncle R.J.” Will looked in the direction of the kitchen, then leaned conspiratorially toward Anna and asked quietly, “Where do you think Sara came from, Mom? I mean, it’s weird that she’s been here seven whole months and she still doesn’t remember anything.”

      Anna took a sip of her coffee, then shook her head as she replaced the cup. “I don’t have an answer to that, Will. No one can say when she’ll get her memory back. All we know is that she sustained a head injury that probably caused the memory loss. Even the specialist the hospital brought in from Dallas said she could get her memory back tomorrow, or it could take months. I guess those things are unpredictable.”

      Sara had wandered into town, dazed and unable to remember her name. She’d been taken to a women’s shelter, and Daisy, the director, had brought her to Maitland Maternity Clinic, the hospital run by Anna’s family, because it was closer than the hospital across town.

      When Sara had finally been declared healthy except for the memory loss, Daisy had pleaded with Shelby to give her a job. Sara had proven to be a good waitress—and a good cook.

      She had golden blond hair and blue eyes with a questioning look in them that Anna noticed every time she saw her. It was almost as though she expected a clue to present itself at any moment, a revelation that would answer her questions.

      “Imagine not knowing who you are,” Will speculated, sitting back in the booth. “Not knowing your mom or your dad or your friends. I wonder how she remembered she could cook.”

      “Shelby said the cook had a family emergency a few weeks ago and couldn’t come in to work. Sara started cooking. It was probably instinctive.”

      “She just knew she could do it?”

      Anna nodded. “That even happens to people who know who they are, but don’t know what they’re capable of,” she said, unable to resist making a life lesson out of their serious conversation. “When put to the test, they do things they didn’t know they could do.”

      “Sort of like discovering they have super powers.”

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