Ten Million Reasons Read online

  “B-bed?” she choked on the word. Why does he have to be so good looking?

  Wincing, he said, “Not the best cliché I’ve ever used.”

  Genevieve pulled into the high school lot and parked next to the lone remaining vehicle, a swanky luxury sedan. Turning in her seat to face Richard, she felt the smallness of her car wrapping itself around them. Does he have to be so close? I can't think. Forcing herself to concentrate on the conversation, she said, “I’d feel better if I had some idea what this was all about.”

  Richard looked apologetic as, with a soft voice, he said, “I know, and I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any more information right now. Take a couple days, see what you can dig up about me, and then we’ll meet.”

  Genevieve felt as though she was falling as she gazed into Richard’s eyes. I understand now what all those romance writers mean when their heroines say the air is getting too thick to breathe. Basic respiration, something she’d always taken for granted, became a struggle. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Great, now I’m doing Lamaze.

  “Gen, are you listening?”

  She shook herself as she realized he’d been speaking to her and she’d been too busy trying to breathe. “W-what?”

  A tender look on his face, Richard reached out and gently traced her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You’re a beautiful woman, Genevieve Mason. Why don’t you come to my office on Thursday? Will that give you enough time?” She nodded, numb.

  Thursday. I get to see him again in two days.

  “Will four o’clock in the afternoon be okay?” Again she nodded.

  Come on already! You’re not a mute. Use words. Still, she sat there staring at him.

  “Alright then. I’ll see you Thursday,” he said.

  Richard was out of her car and into his own more quickly than she would have liked. He could have at least pretended he didn’t want to leave yet. Genevieve restarted her car and pulled out of the parking lot. She kept her eyes on Richard’s car as long as she could. He was right behind her for part of the way, but then they turned in opposite directions at the second intersection, and he was soon out of sight.

  Genevieve wasn’t planning to go to sleep until she’d read everything she could find about him. She stopped at her favorite fast food place for a large coffee then headed for home. Might as well get some caffeine to help me out. After she pulled into her garage at home, she climbed out of the car and flipped open her phone. Dialing Max, she waited only long enough for him to answer before saying, “Alright. Dish. Everything you know about Richard Blakely.”

  What followed was an hour of interesting history on the family, much of which Richard had already told her. Max, however, included additional details that were new to her. “He gives tons of money to charity. He has endowments at each of the local high schools, providing scholarships to students who wouldn’t otherwise be able to afford college, or who would have to go into debt to pay for it.” Genevieve scribbled notes down as Max chatted. “The local press talks about him a lot. Most of the time it’s, ‘Richard Blakely was seen at so-and-so’s party.’ Sometimes it’s more gossipy. Anytime he’s photographed with a woman there’s lots of talk about whether or not she’s the next Mrs. Blakely.”

  “Next? Has he been married before?”

  “I don’t think so,” Max said, “but you’d have to check for yourself. It’s more about the name. His mother was Mrs. Blakely, and so was his grandmother. It’s a wealthy name, and people want it.”

  How is it that I've not heard of him before? “So, basically, women are constantly throwing themselves at him?”

  “I’d say so. Wish I had those kinds of problems,” answered Max cheerfully.

  “Don’t push your luck, kid. You can surround yourself with quality or quantity, but you probably can’t have both. Which would you prefer?”

  “Aunt Gen,” he whined. “Not everything has to be a lesson in character development. Let me envy the guy for a few days. I won’t be forever ruined.”

  A chuckle in her voice, Genevieve said, “Alright Max. Thanks for all the help. If you think of anything else important, call or text. I’ll leave you alone so you can envy him in peace.” Then, before she hung up, she asked, “Hey, how do you know so much about him, anyway?”

  “We had to do humanitarian reports on local celebrities for a class I had last year. Almost all the girls chose Richard Blakely. Some of the reports were interesting. Some were a complete joke. One girl spent the whole time talking about a smear campaign that had been launched to make people believe he dyed his hair. Seriously! A ten minute report about whether or not the man’s hair color is natural.”

  Laughing, she rang off.

  Chapter Four

  Genevieve took the notes she’d jotted down while talking with Max and used that to begin an extensive internet search into the life of one Richard Blakely, Esquire. She was shocked by some of the headlines she came across. Several articles claimed Richard had fathered illegitimate children by different women. There were stories about drugs, rehab, wild parties at clubs, and more. As she dug, she uncovered additional layers to the story of Richard Blakely, including numerous accounts of his philanthropy and good deeds. Now, as always, the challenge of a good journalist was sifting through to determine which stories were based in truth and which were built on fabrication.

  Well into the next morning, Genevieve finally crawled into bed. She slept through most of Wednesday, waking up barely in time to shower, get a bite to eat, and head to evening church. Wednesday was their big night for children’s ministries and she was filling in for a friend by helping with the kids’ games. She was supposed to provide an extra set of eyes and ears. Ah, who am I kidding? My job will be to take little kids to the bathroom when they have to go during game time. Saving the world by instilling the habit of proper hygiene and hand-washing one child at a time!

  As she left the church after services, she ran into her brother. “Hey Jake, I didn’t see you there,” she said, as she grabbed on to his arms to keep her balance.

  “No problem, Sis. How’s your day been?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “That bad?” he asked.

  “Not bad. Just trust me. You don’t want to know,” she answered.

  “Stayed up all night working and then slept all day?”

  “Seriously? How do you know me so well?” she demanded, hands on her hips.

  “I grew up with you, remember?” Laughing, Jake waved to his wife and four children to let them know he’d be along shortly. Genevieve had already said her hellos and goodbyes to each of them. “So,” Jake began, “I hear you had a date yesterday.”

  “Who’d you hear that from?”

  If Max spilled the beans…

  “One of the men saw you getting ice cream with a teenager and some old geezer,” he said.

  “Old geezer!” When Jake laughed, she knew she’d been had. “Well, you can tell your men that unless their powers of observation improve, they’re going to get busted back to traffic cop.” Jake, lead detective with the local police force, always did seem to have eyes everywhere.

  The two laughed together for a moment before Jake asked, “So, anything serious?”

  Not wanting to lie to her brother, Genevieve shrugged. I don’t suppose I should tell him Richard has a delicious voice.

  When both Jake’s eyebrows went up, she knew she was in trouble. “No denial?” She gave her head the slightest shake, and Jake let out a low whistle. “How long you been seeing him then? And why haven’t I heard about him?”

  “What do I have to do to get you to drop the subject?” she asked hopefully. No point trying to hide anything. He sees right through me every time.

  “Answer those two questions plus tell me who he is, and we’ll consider the subject dropped.”

  He’s not going to budge on this one at all.

  “I met him yesterday. I don’t know him very well, but I think I might like him.” Puh-lease
! Understatement alert! “His name is Richard.”

  “Richard? You’re not going to give me a last name?”

  “So you can go home and get your police buddies to help you dig for information? Not on your life.”

  “Gen…”

  “It’s okay, Jake. I barely met him yesterday. I’m not picking out wedding invitations. Yesterday wasn’t even really a date. It was an interview for an article.”

  “So the guy takes his teenage son with him to interviews? Or were you interviewing the kid?”

  Genevieve swiftly lowered her eyes and bit her bottom lip. If he finds out it was Max, I’m done for! Max’ll cave if Jake turns on his bad-cop questioning.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” asked Jake, impatience at the edge of his voice.

  “I love you, Jake, you know that, right?”

  “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

  “It’s my business and mine alone. I didn’t even have to tell you as much as I did.” I need to buy a couple of days to decide how I feel about Richard.

  “I don’t like it. But I’ll give you ‘til Sunday. Then I’m hunting you down and getting some answers.”

  “Think you can give me two Sundays before you break out the handcuffs and heated interrogation lamp?”

  He grimaced and let out a heavy sigh before finally saying, “Okay.”

  Genevieve threw her arms around her brother in a big hug, kissed him on the cheek, and said, “You’re the best brother ever!”

  Jake gave her a return hug, saying, “And don’t you dare forget it.”

  ****

  Hoping to clear her head, Genevieve went for a run Thursday morning. Developing a strategy for her meeting with Richard was her first priority of the day. She needed to remember her professional skills and her common sense. It had been many years since she’d last been so tempted by a man. There was something about him that made her want to stare at him dreamily and agree to anything he said. Maureen, her sister, had long teased her for being the prude of the family, and it was probably true. Her mom had trained her well. If a man isn’t marrying material, then he isn’t dating material.

  Genevieve had rarely found a man she considered dating material, and generally by the end of the first date, she would know for sure he wasn’t matrimonial material. In the past five years she’d had a total of three second dates, and none of those men had made it to a third date.

  As she returned home from her jog, she headed to the kitchen to get a drink. Before she made it to the fridge, her phone rang. Jake’s name was on the screen. She almost ignored the call, but then worry that something may have happened to one of her nieces or nephews got the best of her, and she answered, “Mike’s Mortuary. You stab ‘em, we slab ‘em.”

  “You’ve got to get some new material, Gen.”

  Okay, so that one wasn’t my best.

  “What’s up, Big Brother?”

  “You make me sound like a government conspiracy.” He never did like it when she called him that.

  “Wellll?” She drew it out and let it hang, knowing it would annoy him.

  His sigh gave her great satisfaction. Then he had to go and ruin it, “Look, I only have a minute, but I was calling to apologize.”

  Say what?

  “What’d you do this time?”

  “About last night,” Jake began. “Look, I know you’re kind of picky about your men.” Genevieve’s quick intake of breath couldn’t go unnoticed. “Sorry, sorry. Let me rephrase that. I know you’re choosy about your men, and that’s fine. I tease you, but it’s all in fun. I don’t want you to ever think you can’t talk to me is all.”

  “You’re a man, Jake. I get it. You want to fix everything and protect me and all that stuff. It’s who you are and it’s one of the things I love about you.”

  “Are you going to tell me anything about the guy?”

  “Not a thing.” After a brief silence, she asked, “Does the family seriously think I’m too picky about men?”

  The awkward silence that followed was her answer.

  “What do you always tell me, Gen? If you’re going to get stuck spending the rest of your life with someone, you want to at least enjoy their company, right?”

  “Yep. Sounds like me,” she answered.

  “I think you’ll know when you find the guy, and I hope when you do find him, the rest of your life isn’t spent enjoying his company.”

  “Ah, that’s sweet. You’re a softy at heart, aren’t you?”

  “Come on, Gen. I’m trying to be serious. I’m not good with words like you, and you know it. I love my wife, and I’m happily married. Sure, I enjoy her company. There’s a whole lot more to it, though. I want you to be in a relationship that brings out the best in you, and I don’t want you to settle for anything less than what you deserve.”

  What can I possibly say to that? He had to go and be sweet. Now he’s going to ask for information about Richard, watch.

  “And if you repeat what I said to any of the guys, I’ll arrest you for slander.”

  Laughing, Genevieve said, “Wouldn’t dream of it, Big Brother.”

  Chapter Five

  Genevieve enjoyed a long hot shower and spent way too long digging through her closet looking for the perfect outfit. She hadn’t given it a second thought on Tuesday when she’d thought she was meeting a run-of-the-mill survey taker. Richard Blakely, however, was anything but run-of-the-mill. Even his shoe laces shouted wealth. After an hour trying to put together something fashionable and sophisticated, she finally gave up. “It’s not me. I’m a jeans and sweater kind of a woman. I don’t come from money, and no matter how hard I try, I’ll never look as if I do.” Her wardrobe did not answer the complaint.

  She settled on a comfortable long black peasant skirt and a bright yellow shirt, adding a silk scarf in shades of blue and green. The scarf contrasted nicely with the yellow while bringing out the green in her eyes. This is as good as it’s going to get. Then, gathering up her satchel with her notebook, she got into the car and headed toward Richard’s office.

  Not the least bit surprised to see Model-Talker upon arrival, Genevieve politely waited for her to get off the phone before asking to see Richard. Was she talking in Russian? What kind of world do these people live in? She was shown into Richard’s suite of offices and told, “Mr. Blakely got caught in a meeting on another floor and will be up shortly. He said for you to make yourself at home.”

  As soon as Model-Talker left, Genevieve wandered around Richard’s office. She wasn’t comfortable venturing into the other rooms. Besides, there was plenty to see here in this room. One wall had several candid pictures of Richard with his grandparents and a couple with his parents, as well. There was a collection of sculptures that appeared to be made from glass. Who am I kidding? It’s probably priceless crystal. Touch it and alarms go off! Snatching her hand back from the precipice of temptation, she moved on.

  Genevieve was taking in the view from the office window when she heard the door open behind her. She twisted to see Richard approaching, looking more disheveled than she’d expected. “Rough day?” she asked.

  He ran his hand through his blond hair and said, “Not the worst day ever, but more than a few things have definitely gone wrong today.”

  “Everything is okay, I hope?”

  Richard nodded and said, “It’ll all work out. Every business has good days and bad days.” Then, nodding toward the window he asked, “What do you think of the view?”

  “It’s breathtaking,” she answered. “I’ve lived near the Blue Ridge mountains my entire life. I suppose, at some point, I started to take them for granted. Your view here reminds me how amazing our God is.”

  With a smile, he said, “I couldn’t agree more. It’s why my grandfather chose to keep his corporate headquarters here rather than moving to Richmond or closer to DC.” Before the conversation had a chance to stall out, he asked, “Would you like anything to drink?” When Genevieve shook her head, he said, “Let’s s
it down then. I assume you have some questions for me.”

  “Ah, yes,” she said. “I was commissioned to learn about who I’m potentially getting into bed with.” I did not just say that. Oh no. I did just say that, didn’t I? Genevieve quickly spun away and busied herself with getting the notebook out of her satchel. Hopefully, Richard wouldn’t notice the blush she could feel heating her face. A gentleman would let the remark slide.

  “Would you like the couch or the chair?” he asked.

  Ah. A gentleman indeed.

  Genevieve opted for the couch and made herself comfortable. Gripping her pen and notebook, she said, “I have a list of questions here I’d like to ask you. My problem is that I don’t think it’s fair for me to pry into your personal life. If I knew what you were proposing, then maybe I’d understand why it’s significant.” Shrugging in apology, she added, “Were I writing an article about you that would be different.”

  Nodding, Richard said, “I can respect your position. Please understand, I give you permission to ask me anything you wish. I am an open book for you today.”

  Frowning, Genevieve inspected her list of questions. She made eye contact and straightened her spine before asking, “Do you have any illegitimate children?”

  “No.” The question didn’t appear to catch him off-guard, as she’d hoped. Journalism 101: Keep your interviewee guessing, and you’re more likely to get honest answers. If people have no idea what your next question is going to be, they don’t have time to prepare a falsified answer.

  “Any children at all?”

  “No.”

  “Is it true you settled out of court on a paternity suit?”

  “Yes.” His answers were monosyllabic, but his voice continued to be matter-of-fact, his expression open.