The Wager

“And obviously you do it very well.”

He shrugged. “Gramps was a good teacher. And my family’s been lucky. We’ve gotten most of the hotels we’ve gone after, but we’ve also worked hard to make things happen.”

“I imagine you have. Still, it must be nice…you and your family working together.”

“It’s both a blessing and a curse….”

While Josh spoke of the fun and the madness of working with his siblings and parents, Laura couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. She thought of her own life, the closeness she’d shared with her mother, and considered the irony of the profession she’d chosen. Not for the first time since discovering the truth about her father, she wondered how her mother had felt about her decision to pursue a career in hotel management. Thoughts of her father invariably brought back the phone call from Olivia Jardine. Despite the older woman’s insistence, her heritage wasn’t in New Orleans. Why would she even want to claim the heritage of a man who had not only abandoned his pregnant lover, but had denied her as well?

“Is something wrong?”

Laura jerked her attention to Josh. “No. Not at all. I was just thinking about the dynamics of your family. How many of you Logans are there?”

“In my immediate family, there are five of us kids. There are also a half-dozen aunts and uncles and about twenty or so cousins.”

For someone who’d had no one but her mother, it sounded like an army. “You have four brothers and sisters?”

“No brothers. Just sisters. Two older than me—Meredith and Rachel—and two who are younger—Hope and Faith. And they’re all nosy, bossy and intent on driving their only brother crazy.”

“Those are interesting descriptions of your sisters. Makes me wonder how they’d describe you.”

“As their handsome, charming and perfect brother, of course.”

Laura laughed at the outrageous claim.

“It’s true,” he assured her.

“Sure it is.”

“And it’s obvious that you didn’t grow up in a house of pesky siblings.”

“Afraid not. It was just me and my mother,” Laura informed him, enjoying the easy banter between them. She sampled the banana swimming in the thick, rich sauce.

“You poor, deprived kid. You missed out on all the fun stuff like fighting for a shot at the bathroom, and when you get it, nearly getting choked to death on all the perfumes and girly lotions in the air. Or waiting your turn for the shower and discovering there’s no hot water left.”

“You’re right. I can’t say I’ve had any of that fun.”

“And I don’t suppose you know what it’s like to find half of your shirts and shorts missing because the newest craze in female fashion is men’s wear, do you?”

Grinning, Laura shook her head, both amused and intrigued by the images he was painting of his siblings. “No, but my mom and I were the same size and she used to borrow my clothes sometimes. Does that count?”

“Not even close,” he informed her. “True sibling torture is to be a lowly red-shirted freshman on the football team and have the foxy senior-class cheerleader offer to drive you home after practice, and while the two of you are making out in her snazzy car in front of your house, your bratty little sisters are spying on you. Worse yet, they run inside and tattle on you to your parents.”

“You’re making that up,” Laura accused, unable to hold back her laughter.

He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor. My sisters drove me crazy when we were kids, and now that we’re adults, they take turns trying to drive me nuts.”

“But you love them,” she said, hearing the affection in his voice, seeing it in his eyes.

He shrugged. “What choice do I have? They’re family. You have to love your family.”

Not always, Laura mused. She thought again of her father, of Andrew Jardine. For the first time since discovering the truth, she allowed herself to think of his children—her half brother and sisters. She couldn’t help wondering what it would have been like if things had been different.

“What about you? What was it like for you growing up?” Josh asked.

Laura pulled her thoughts back to the present. “Compared to your childhood, mine was very quiet. My father…I never knew my father. It was just my mother and me.”

“Nick told me she died recently and that the two of you were close.”

“Yes. We were close. She was a wonderful woman—sort of a combination of mother, sister and best friend all rolled into one. She was so full of life. Always had a smile on her face. I don’t think she ever met a stranger, or at least no one that stayed a stranger, for long. Everyone adored her.”

“She sounds like a special lady.”

“She was. And she didn’t have it easy, raising me by herself. But she never complained, never once made me feel that I was a burden. I always felt loved, wanted. She was a very strong and brave woman.”

“A lot like her daughter, I suspect.”

Laura swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she murmured, and stared down at her dessert.

“You still miss her a lot, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Laura admitted.

He tipped up her chin with his finger so that she met his eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must feel. As much as I complain about my family, I’d be lost without them.”

Which described exactly how she’d felt during these past months—lost. But it wasn’t just the physical absence of her mother. It was knowing that all those years she’d idolized a father who’d never existed, that she’d believed herself to be someone she wasn’t. “I still have my friends. And, of course, there’s Uncle Paul.”

“Uncle Paul?”

“Well, he’s not really my uncle. He’s…he was my mother’s attorney and oldest friend. I’ve known him all my life,” she informed him. “He certainly treats me like family, though. He’s always nagging at me to eat, to go out more, not to work too hard. Judging by the number of sons and nephews of associates that he’s been introducing to me lately on one pretext or another, I think he’s made it his mission to marry me off.”

“Is that what you want? To get married and settle down?”

Something in Josh’s tone had Laura look up from the spoon that she’d been licking. Excitement danced along her skin at the hunger in his eyes as he watched her. “I suppose so…someday. If the right man comes along.”

“And what type of man is the right man?”

“He’s someone li—” She’d been about to say, he was someone like her father had been. But her father hadn’t been the man she’d believed him to be. He’d been an irresponsible coward and liar. “He’s someone honest and trustworthy. Someone who lives up to his responsibilities, who does what’s right regardless of the cost to him.”

“Sounds like you’re holding out for a hero,” he said as he stole a spoonful of her Bananas Foster.

“I guess I am.” She noted his empty dish as he swiped another bite of her dessert. “What about you?”

“Me?” He paused, his spoon already poised for another swoop of her ice cream. “I’m not holding out for a hero.”

“Funny,” she said, and tapped his spoon aside. His expression fell as she zeroed in on the last of the dessert. So she divided the remaining bite in half. “I meant do you ever think about getting married and settling down?”

Polishing off the bite she’d left him, he grinned and said, “Not if I can help it.”