The Gideon Affair (39 page)

“Does this life involve getting a job?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, big brother. A job? You mean like what you do? Calling that a job now, are we?”

“Hey, don’t be hating just ‘cause I found a way to make money and have fun.”

They tossed off a few arm punches for good measure.

“What? So you think flashing your pecs for all the soccer moms is better than being an astronaut? Or a writer? Isn’t that what you planned to do when you grew up?”

“An astronaut?” Paige asked. “For real?”

He nodded. “Yep. I wanted to be the Jack Kerouac of outer space.”

“Don’t you mean Jules Verne?”

Marsh cut in. “Oh, hell no! Jules wrote about fantasy. Old Ed wanted actually to ride the rockets then send dispatches that he’d authored from real experiences back to Planet Earth. It was all so futuristic when we were kids. Never too late, hmm?”

“Well, in any case, does this new plan of yours involve settling down in one place?”

It occurred to him as he watched his mother lazily stir her tea with a small, satisfied smile on her face that he’d taken over from them with the third degree of his brother. Damn, they were clever.

Marshall cleared his throat and paused to collect some thoughts. Edward would know that contemplative expression anywhere. Paige sat straighter, aware of the change in the room. His dad stopped tapping his fingers on the table and narrowed his eyes. He wondered if having two sons had been the crazy ride Edward thought it was.

“The thing is,” Marshall began, “I’ve got all these properties. Mostly rentals. Some still in fix-up mode and …”

“Say again?” his mother chimed in. “You have what?”

“Uh, did you say properties?” Paige asked.

Edward went slack-jawed. Was this a joke? What the hell was Marsh talking about?

“Yeah … it’s kind of like this, guys. I know y'all figured I blew Gran’s inheritance.”

Edward went perfectly still. Gran’s inheritance. Holy shit. They’d each received a hefty chunk of cha-ching when she passed on. That was what Edward had been living on when he moved to Los Angeles. All these years they’d all assumed that when Marsh took off to Europe and basically didn’t come home for three years that he was churning and burning his share.

“Almost right away I started building a real estate portfolio …”

He kept talking, but Edward heard nothing after the words real estate and portfolio. Paige had always said that one day Marsh would surprise them all. Looked like that day just arrived.

“So now, I’ve got to make some decisions about what to do next.”

A mini-explosion went off in Edward’s head. “Hey, any of these properties be good for something like, oh, I don’t know … maybe a B&B?”

Paige’s head was whipping back and forth between him and his brother so fast it was a wonder she didn’t get whiplash.

"A B&B?” his mother interjected. “I like the way that sounds. What brought that up, dear?”

Running his hand up and down Paige’s back, he slowly smiled. This was unbelievable. It was like a future of enormous possibilities that had been idle thoughts until spoken out loud were opening up all around them.

“Paige has an idea about a chain of family-oriented guest suites,” he told his mother. Turning to Marsh, he added, “You should talk to her, bro. She’s really on to something.”

“If it means we get to see more of you two, and now Paige, as well, I’m all for it.” His father looked like a man who just hit the jackpot with his last quarter.

“Speaking of which,” Marsh drawled. “I’m invoking the Banning custom of kidnapping the bride before the ceremony.”

“You’re joking, I hope.” Paige chuckled.

His mother got the last word in this conversation. “No joke, dear. Marsh is right. All the Banning brides are waylaid right before the wedding. Last chance for a change of heart. Clarity and all that.”

Over his dead body
, Edward fumed.

“Y
our parents arrive tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Bright and early. Steven’s going to pick them up.”

They were bouncing down a dirt road that skirted along the river in an old work truck that had seen better days.

“It’s not too late, you know.”

She had to grin. This was fun. She’d never been kidnapped before. When Marshall had appeared in his mom’s studio with an old Lone Ranger mask on and a fake pistol that swung from a kid’s holster, she’d played her apart to the hilt. Yelling, “Save me, save me,” as Marsh tossed her over his shoulder while his mother pretended to rescue her.

She caught sight of Edward and Steven up at the house, watching from the porch and laughing their asses off as she was dumped in the passenger seat of the old truck with a thud.

“Yeah, it is. Too late.”

“Why? Did that motherfucker knock you up? Is that what all the rush is about?”

He sounded genuinely put out.

“Where have you been, Marsh?” she quipped. “The second we got together practically everyone we knew screamed at last!”

He swerved to avoid a large rock protruding from the ground.

“Idiot, that one. Too busy looking at his own reflection.”

She knew he was just kidding.

“I’m glad you’re here. It means a lot to Edward.”

Humph. “Is he all you think about?”

“No. I also think about Häagen-Daz vanilla, my 401K, and occasionally Charlie Hunnam. In no particular order.”

They pulled over at a spot far down the river from the house and got out of the truck. Finding spots to sit on a large sun-warmed rock, they talked about how beautiful it was here and how happy his parents were. Once they were talking, she questioned him about his so-called portfolio. What she discovered was quite surprising.

“You’re full of shock and awe these days, little brother.”

“Oh, fuck!” Marsh chuckled. “That’s right. I get a sister out of this deal. How cool is that?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. Don’t change the subject. So were you ever planning on telling anyone that you turned into a mogul?”

Pfft
. “No mogul, sis. Just a guy with a head full of dreams who couldn’t hack a nine-to-five office job. I lucked out right from the beginning. That first flip was a way to work off energy, but when I made a huge profit, well …”

Humph. She thought about everything she now knew. Working off a property-flipping whim, he’d stumbled on something he was really good at. Like his brother. They both fell face-first into an unlikely career path.

“What do you think of my B&B plan? Think it has merit?”

“Jeez, Paige, I think anything you do would have merit. Edward didn’t fall for you because you had big tits.”

She slapped on the arm. Hard. “Hey! Be nice.”

“I am being nice.” He chuckled. “It’s a compliment, lady. T and A was never what big bro was about. He needs all that fucking cerebral shit so a fiancée with a fancy degree and some shit-kicking skills? Priceless.”

“He’s not saying so yet, but I think he’s pretty much over the whole acting thing. It wasn’t meant to be a life choice, you know.”

“Yeah, I hear you. That shit’s fucked up, and I’m being serious when I say I don’t know how you do it.”

She swatted a fly away and turned on the rock to face Marsh.

“It’s all fantastic when a shoot is happening. The creative stuff is the best part, but the rest of it? Meh.”

“Maybe it’s your turn to shine. Ever think of it that way?”

Of course, she had, but the way Marsh put it was way too simple.

“Eh, it’s not about being a star, or any of that. For me, it’s about using my skills. Truly. It’s not even about money.” Paige laughed and nudged Marsh. “Your dad handles my, uh, investment portfolio.” They both roared with laughter. Portfolio was the new word du jour. “Anyway, I’m good. And marrying Mr. Moneybags won’t hurt.”

“Jesus, Paige. I saw the box office numbers for
Dark Cloud
and almost shit. They printing money yet with his ugly mug on it yet? I mean, what the fuck. He’s in the shitting-rainbows category now. Ya done good, girl. Real good.”

“So I’m told, but it's just money.”

“I hear that. Hey, mind if I ask what happened that sent you guys on a camping trip when you should be checking junk off your bridal registry and making all those fake assholes throw you engagement parties?”

Eek. She was so over it. “I could explain, but then I’d have to obliviate your memory and I don’t think Miriam would like that.”

“Mom and Dad were pretty torked about something when I called in a couple of weeks ago.”

“Ugh. Paparazzi bullshit. It’s handled, though.”

“This have anything to do with
Shaw Me the Way
?”

She cringed. Well, at least now that Phae was taking responsibility, that damn tape would vanish fast, so there was that. The little detail of her age meant it was officially in the underage no-no category. Marsh correctly read her reaction when he fervently exclaimed, “It isn’t him, you know.”

“Well, I know that now!” she crowed.

“Ah, so it’s like that, is it?” Marsh nodded with approval. For a brief moment, his eyes darted around before he boomed gleefully, “Oh, man! You held him off for six fucking years?”

He dissolved into a fit of laughter so joyful and infectious that she joined him. As their laughter rang out over the empty spaces, Marsh pulled her into a big hug then took her by surprise with a vicious noogie.

“Hallelujah! I’m not the youngest anymore. Welcome to the family, little sister.”

“Where is everybody?” Rose asked Edward when she came upon him all by himself in the kitchen. “It’s so quiet.”

"Everyone scattered first thing." He held the coffee pot in his hand up for her to see. “Coffee?”

“Immediately. Hot. Black”

“Coming right up. You grab a chair at the table, Mrs. Turner, and I’ll get you set.”

He was glad that she didn’t try to stand there and do small talk with him, realizing after she was halfway across the kitchen that he’d been holding his breath. Why the woman scared him shitless wasn’t much of a mystery. From the second the Turners had arrived, she’d been one hundred and ten percent redneck charming with everyone. Except him. Shit. She’d practically adopted Marsh and had his dad eating out of her palm, too.

Dammit. Where was Paige?

Loading a big tray with a coffee carafe, their mugs, and a plate of fresh baked blueberry scones, he silently crossed himself and prayed for some sort of divine intervention to help him get his future mother-in-law on his side. Or at the very least, comfortably adjacent.

“We’re in luck,” he told her with hopeful friendliness. “Mom’s in a baking frenzy. Dad says he’s put on eight pounds, not that he’s complaining about all the treats. Looks like blueberries are a theme lately. Hope you like a good scone.”

For someone who delivered carefully crafted lines for a living, you’d think he could have made that sound more eloquent than a rushed eighth-grade class report. The way she eyeballed him was a lot like a teacher who was grading and judging every word, breath, and action.

“Your mother’s a doll. We have some things in common. Although you couldn’t tell that by looking at this place.”

Edward carefully considered her every word. He watched her glance around the country kitchen with its cabin in the wilderness charm and saw it through her eyes. He knew the Turners lived in a one-story ranch home in Oklahoma that while comfortable would not be considered grand or up-to-date by today's crazy HGTV standards. Not all too terribly different from the home Marsh and he grew up in.

He wondered if the spectacular custom design he’d snagged for his parents was pretentious or came off as him having a serious bank account made them better than everyone else.

Holy shit. Nothing could be further than the truth. His parents were on their best behavior right now, but his oddball family unit would have shown a completely different picture a night earlier when his mom and Marshall belched out song lyrics.

“I think it’s every kid’s hope that someday they’d hit it big and be able to take care of their parents.”

“Oh, I’m not criticizing Gideon. It’s just a lot to take in.”

Okay. Now, what the hell did he do? She knew damn well that nobody called him Gideon. What the fucking fuck?

There was nothing but to be direct. “Mrs. Turner, I act for a living so believe me when I say that this air of disdain you’re passing my way is far and away a masterful performance. Care to let me in on whatever I’ve done to earn it?”