Morgan straightened his stance, getting angrier by the minute. “In that case, tell them you have met with me and discussed it. And that my response is that in my opinion Lena Spears has more style and beauty in her little finger than most women have in their entire body. I’m marrying her and if the masses don’t like it, then I’ll run without their support.”
“You won’t win.”
Morgan chuckled. “I might not get their vote, but if they feel the way they do about the woman I intend to marry, then I don’t want their vote. They only represent a small population of Charlotte’s society. I refuse to believe that the majority of the people in this town is that narrowed-minded and shallow. Good day, Edward.”
Edward stared at him and shook his head for a moment before turning and walking out the door.
“For Pete’s sake, calm down, Morgan.”
Chance, Bas and Donovan watched as an angry Morgan paced back and forth around his office. As soon as Edward had left, Morgan had summoned his brothers. After he’d told them about Edward’s visit and what had been said, they had gotten just as angry as Morgan. But not quite.
“I can’t believe Dunlap actually said that to you,” Donovan said, shaking his head as he sat in one of the chairs in the room. “I can see him saying that to me since he never liked me anyway.”
Bas rolled his eyes. “Might be from that time he caught you almost making out with his youngest daughter in a parked car right in front of his house.”
“Hey, she asked for it,” Donovan said in defense. “What was I supposed to do?”
Chance shook his head. “Turning her down might have been the decent thing to do,” he said sarcastically. “But let’s get back to the issue of Morgan and Lena.”
Morgan stopped his pacing and met Chance’s gaze. “There’s no issue. Who the hell do they think they are, deciding what woman is appropriate for me?” he asked angrily. “It’s nobody’s business who I marry.”
“Damn right it’s not, now let’s go kick some asses,” was Bas’s quick reply.
Now it was Chance who rolled his eyes. Everyone in Charlotte knew that of all the Steeles, Bas had always been the hothead, the one ready to not only start trouble but put an end to it as well. He’d always been known as the not-so-sterling Steele, a reputation he’d garnered proudly until he turned twenty-one, dropped out of college and had to face the real world…and a man by the name of Jim Mason—Jocelyn’s father.
“Just think how that sounds, Bas. Fighting never solves anything. What we need to do is to put our heads together. Whether you want to admit it or not, Morgan, you’re going to need Edward and his group’s support.”
“Then I don’t want it, and in that case I won’t run.”
Chance shook his head. “Think hard on that before making a decision. Have you discussed any of this with Lena?”
“No.”
“Don’t you think you should? Especially if the two of you are getting married, which is a mystery within itself. Two weeks ago she wasn’t giving you the time of day,” Chance said, eying his brother curiously. “What happened?”
Morgan stared at his brothers, and since he wanted to make sure they understood the depth of his feelings for Lena he said, “Love happened. I fell for her that night of the charity ball. I just thought I wanted her. But it’s more. I love her.”
Chance and Bas slowly nodded, indicating they understood. They had been there, done that and were still doing it. However, it was Donovan who was looking at him with what amounted to pity in his eyes.
“Okay, then,” Chance said, smiling, as if satisfied with what he’d been told. “I suggest you talk things over with Lena. I probably won’t go so far as to tell her about Edward’s visit, but I think she at least deserves to know you’re thinking about running for a political office.”
Morgan nodded, knowing Chance was right. He and Lena had a dinner date later that day. He would tell her of his decision then.
Lena glanced around. She was lucky that although she’d arrived at the restaurant early, there had been a table reserved for her.
McIntosh Steak House and Seafood was a popular restaurant in town. Simple and elegant it catered to businesspeople with money, the power brokers of Charlotte. The interior spoke of old money with its plush carpeting, the rich-looking furnishing and the expensive art collections of oil paintings on the walls. Service was always magnificent, the food always tasty. Sometimes people traveled for miles just to dine here.
The waiter had already brought her one glass of wine and had come to see if she wanted another when she glanced up and saw Cassandra Tisdale and a couple of women she recognized as being in the woman’s inner circle, including her cousin Jamie. She immediately got cold chills.