Not So Snow White Read online

  He ducked his chin, abashed at her praise. "Thank you." Then he laughed a little. "I just wish I could believe that. I thought it had been a challenge so far. But my God, Aurora, everything just amped up about a thousand percent over the past two months. She's changing so fast, and it's not just the tour. I'm a wreck worrying about her."

  She patted his cheek, as only she could. "She's becoming a woman, dear. And quite the femme fatale, too."

  Max groaned.

  Aurora laughed softly. "That is a good thing, trust me. In her sport, she's going to need all the weapons she can manage, on and off the court. I think she's doing just fine."

  "I wish I had the same faith you did. There is so much happening so fast. It used to be all I had to juggle was her tutoring and getting her to practice, and to her tournaments. Now there are sponsorship deals being offered and endorsement contracts for all kinds of things and people wanting God knows what from her. Not to mention the media attention. She's only sixteen."

  "She is beautiful and talented and spirited. She's going to attract attention whether you want her to or not."

  "I know, I know. It's just, there's so much being put in front of her now. I can't be at her side every single second. I know it sounds ridiculous considering the amount of traveling she's done, but she's really led a somewhat sheltered life." He raked his hand through his hair, "Maybe she's right and I have been too overprotective. Maybe I haven't prepared her well enough for this. Maybe—"

  Aurora patted his hand. "Max, darling, please. You've done a wonderful job with her, or she wouldn't be facing these delightful and exciting choices. But you're right, your job isn't done yet, which is why you've entrusted her to us for a short while. You were clever enough to realize that sometimes a girl, or a young woman, needs to hear certain things from someone other than her big brother. We're taking good care of that. Trust me, Max. Let her have some of her own time."

  "She thinks she knows every damn thing and what is good for her, but trust me, she hasn't a clue half the time." He sighed in the face of Aurora's unwavering smile. "I know. It's just… not easy to loosen the reins, I guess."

  "Don't think of it as loosening them so much as sharing them. She is going to have to make a lot of decisions for herself in the coming months. You've got to give her the chance to make some and accept that sometimes she might make the wrong ones. You've kept her under wraps as much as possible, to let her get her education and focus on honing her talent. Frankly, she's still in a controlled environment here and we're going to do our best to help give her the tools she needs to make good decisions, to keep a level head despite the insanity exploding around her, so she can stay focused on what is most important. You've given her a great foundation, we're just improving on what you've already given her. You should be proud of her."

  "I am proud of her, I am. And I have great faith in her. But, Aurora, she's still just a child."

  "As were you when you were handed the biggest responsibility of your life," she gently reminded him. "And look how well you've done." She squeezed his arm and pulled him into a brief hug. "It's going to be fine. She's going to be amazing." She leaned back and smiled. "You're going to survive, too. You know, if you ever need a bit of a break yourself, you can drop by."

  Max sighed and smiled wearily. "Be careful what you offer! By the end of the fortnight, I might just move in."

  "We'd be glad to have you." She bussed him on the cheek, then wiped away the coral smudge of lipstick she'd left behind. "Now, Gaby's practice sessions will go on as scheduled today, as will her physical conditioning. We have all your detailed notes on her routine and will follow them to the letter. But if you don't mind, I think it would be best if you sat this practice session out. She's on target, you said so yourself. One day won't derail her entire game." She walked with him to the front doors. "Go enjoy your day. London is a wonderful city. I'm sure you can find numerous things to do with your time. You need a break, too, you know."

  "But—"

  "She'll be fine, Max," She nudged him forward. A cloud of floral perfume enveloped him as she kissed his cheek. "Have a wonderful day, Check in with me tomorrow, okay?"

  Moments later, Max found himself back in the parking lot, accompanied by a Glass Slipper employee in a peach blazer. He glanced back and caught Aurora's wave from the front porch and nodded somewhat absently in return before climbing into his car. He'd asked for this. He'd asked for her help. Why in the hell had he asked for her help?

  He turned out of the long, winding drive and pointed his car toward the city, intending on going back to their hotel in town. Aurora had advised a day off, but he had calls to return, schedules to go over, not to mention checking the calendar for upcoming tour events, booking rooms, flights. He had to come up with several different game plans, each dependent on how well Gaby did here and how he thought she'd be feeling based on that performance, not to mention what would be best for her physically. He didn't want to burn her out, body or soul.

  Aurora would get her through practice and training and he could get a jump on things. So this was a good thing, his having a bit of time to himself. She was in good hands, he didn't have to worry. He'd see her tomorrow and fine-tune anything he might have overlooked. Then he could start thinking about finding a coach. The very idea made his stomach clench a little.

  He started mulling over a potential list of names, but one person in particular kept floating to the surface. Mostly because she was the last person he wanted working with his sister.

  Tess Hamilton.

  * * * * *

  Aurora watched Max head off with an understanding smile. "Poor man. Too many women running the show." She stepped back inside and headed to the main offices at the rear of the estate. The ones with the lovely lanai facing the courtyard. The sun was shining for a change and the courtyard gardens would be quite lovely with all the flowers still in bloom. A perfect day for an early tea, she thought. Her pleasure only increased when she found both Vivian and Mercedes waiting there for her, a sterling-silver tea service already laid out. "Hello all," she said airily, too happy with the way her plan was unfolding to care if she sounded a wee bit giddy.

  Both of her partners were seated at a round, leaded glass table that took up the lion's share of the screened-in porch. She poured herself a cup of Darjeeling, helped herself to a sampling from the arrangement of small scones, then took a seat across from the other two.

  Mercedes was bent over some folder or other, making notes.

  Vivian was on her cell phone—or mobile, as they called them here in London, So she helped herself to her first scone and added sugar to her tea.

  "You sound quite chipper," Mercy said, not looking up from her work.

  It was the former girls' school headmistress in her, Aurora supposed. Yes, they were here in London on business, technically, but mostly it had been to visit Valerie and their new location. So what on earth Mercedes was working on so seriously, Aurora had no idea. Of course, she did everything seriously. Knowing her somewhat anal-retentive tendencies, she was probably double-checking the books, making sure the profit margins were as reported. Honestly, Aurora had no idea how she stayed awake looking at so many numbers.

  "Well, dear, that's because I am chipper," she responded brightly, turning her thoughts back to her own little project. "Things are moving along quite swimmingly, I must say."

  "Can you fax a copy to me," Vivian was saying on the phone. "Wonderful, darling." She laughed lightly. "Why, of course. I wouldn't dream of standing you up. Seven?" She paused, then laughed again. "How naughty of you. And I assure you I'm quite steady in spike heels." Another pause, an even throatier laugh. "Yes, darling, see you then. All of you." She clicked off and took a deep sigh, obviously quite pleased with herself. "I got the information you wanted," she informed Aurora.

  "You're looking very cat-and-canary," Aurora replied, not meaning to sound snippy. Somehow, where Vivi was concerned, it just always seemed to come out that way.

  "You're wel
come," Vivi replied, a satisfied smile on her face.

  "Must have been some business meeting," Aurora observed. "You're all but glowing."

  "Am I?" Vivian didn't blush or bother to hide her supreme satisfaction with herself and life in general. Vivi's former life as Hollywood fashion guru to the stars had left her quite jaded. Not that her current lifestyle had altered that reality much. Aurora swore Vivian could find trouble in a nunnery. Probably had, for that matter. God knows her age hadn't slowed her down. For Vivian, sixty-five was the new forty.

  "When isn't she glowing?" Mercy commented, still focused on her forms.

  As she rarely included herself in their banter, both Vivi and Aurora paused to send her a surprised look.

  "What?" Mercy said, looking up. Her stem visage was enhanced by her closely coiffed silver hair and the modest-to-no makeup she wore.

  "Nothing, dear," Aurora said instantly before Vivian could say anything. "You're absolutely right." She didn't need any tension marring her otherwise perfectly lovely day. "So," she said, turning back to Vivian. "What did you find out?"

  "Your hunch was right. It's not just the Nike deal she lost. Every single one of Tess's sponsorship deals has expired, no renewals. She has no endorsement deals current or pending, either, that I've been able to discover. She hasn't signed with a new management agency since leaving her last one, and apparently she and her accountant parted ways rather abruptly, as well. So I did some further digging and discovered she had a rather nasty run-in with the IRS last fall and as a result, she's sold off most of her international assets. Paying this year's tab almost wiped her completely out. She's in the clear with the government now, but all she has left is her home in Boca, several cars, and whatever other personal items she might have invested in, jewelry and the like. She owns the home outright, but taxes and maintaining the grounds, along with the pool and tennis courts, are costly. Not to mention her day-to-day lifestyle. Essentially, she is hemorrhaging money just to maintain the status quo. Frankly, given the sorry state of her bank accounts and lack of any discernible income, I don't know how much longer she can last."

  Aurora sat in disbelief. She'd suspected things weren't going well for Tess, but she'd had no idea the situation was so dire. She would have felt guilty for her snooping when Tess was clearly intending to keep her financial woes private, but she was only trying to help. And just as clearly, Tess was too proud to ask for help. She was well aware that Tess's extensive nightlife rounds had been made mostly at the pretournament sponsor parties. 'Nothing new to report? Perhaps something she's put together since she's been here?"

  Vivian shook her head. "I'm afraid not."

  Aurora shook her head. "Poor dear, How did she let such a tragedy befall her?"

  "Her retirement was rather untimely—perhaps she simply wasn't prepared for the sudden loss of income?" Mercy suggested.

  Aurora sighed. "Perhaps. But she's a smart girl from a smart family. Why didn't she invest? Are you certain she has no other properties or the like? I can't believe she's come to this point so quickly."

  "Believe it," Vivian told her. "I'm having the documentation faxed over, but trust me, she's as close to broke as she could be."

  "Why hasn't she turned to her family for help? Her father—"

  She was cut off by Vivian's burst of laughter and Mercedes' sigh.

  "What?" Aurora asked, feeling a bit slighted. "She comes from a very close family. I happen to know that Frank is doing quite well. Wade and Bobby are financially independent. Surely any of them would help out if they knew the gravity of the situation."

  "Somehow I doubt, with Tess's enormous pride, that she would ever let her own family know how badly she mismanaged her estimable fortune," Vivian said.

  Frowning, Aurora put her teacup down. "You have a point. Oh, dear." She lifted her teacup. "Thank goodness, then, that she has us."

  " 'Us'?" Mercedes queried, arching one eyebrow quite formidably.

  Aurora waved a hand at her. "Don't worry, I'm not asking anything directly of you." She glanced at Vivian. "I do appreciate your calling in a few favors. Your… contacts are aware the information is to remain absolutely secret, correct? I'd never forgive myself if I only made things more difficult for her."

  "My… 'contacts,' as you call them, are always discreet, darling," Vivian assured her. "But you do realize that word will eventually get out? I'm sure Tess does, as well. Tennis is like any other billion-dollar industry. The people running it love nothing more than to eat their own young." She waggled a scone at Aurora. "Mark my words. She'll be lucky to stroll onto the All England Club grounds before all hell breaks loose for her. The British media are absolute fiends when it comes to ferreting out information like this."

  Aurora tightened her hold on her teacup, her smile all the more determined. "I suppose we have our work cut out for us, then, don't we?"

  " 'We'?" Mercedes asked.

  Aurora sighed. "I'm using Glass Slipper's facilities to help accomplish my goals, so in essence, yes, we."

  "She's not a paid guest," Mercedes, always the accountant, reminded her.

  "At the moment she's actually a temporary employee, providing a service for one of our clients."

  "The Fontaines, yes." Mercedes slid her glasses off and looked directly at Aurora. "I'm still debating the relative merits of you taking on a personal client while we're here."

  "For goodness sake, Mercy, when it was your godson—"

  She waved a hand, unmoved by Aurora's argument. "Be that as it may, if you're going to be utilizing our assets here without—"

  "Oh, for heaven's sake, Mercy," Vivian retorted, dabbing at a bit of wayward raspberry filling that had landed on her plate, then licking her finger. "Leave her be, will you? Aurora's little project will hardly bankrupt us."

  Aurora beamed at the unexpected support. "Thanks, Vivi. And you're absolutely right. When I'm done, everyone will make out quite handily. Customer satisfaction won't be a problem." She picked up her linen napkin and dabbed at the corners of her mouth. And prayed like hell she was right.

  * * * * *

  Max whipped his car through the gates to Wexley House, thankful he didn't have to argue with the guard to gain entry. His name was still on the admittance list from the other night. There were no cars in front of the house, but then, Aurora had mentioned she used Glass Slipper limos to ferry herself about town. She'd offered him use of one, as well, but he'd declined. However, it was highly likely Tess took advantage of the service. She was the limo sort, after all. When she wasn't tooling around in one of Sir Robin's Jags, anyway.

  "Must be nice," he grumbled, even though he knew it was a bit unfair. After all, he wasn't exactly hurting for money. Regardless of how well Gaby performed on tour, Max had long since made sure that their inheritance would continue to work for them for years to come, He just chose to utilize his good fortune in a less… ostentatious way. And he certainly didn't sponge off of people. Aurora had offered her Glass Slipper services gratis. A favor to an old family friend. He wouldn't hear a word of it. Tess, on the other hand, who had to be far more financially secure than he could ever dream of being, seemed to have no problem accepting whatever favors were tossed her way.

  He looked up at the broad front to the mansion, seeing it for the first time in the light of day. The marble and stone exterior was every bit as daunting as the collection of art and priceless antiques he knew littered every room inside. Right up Tess's opulent lifestyle alley.

  Shaking his head at the decadence of it all, he took the front stairs two at a time. He rapped on the door, then glanced at his watch. "Half past two. She should just be getting up." Whatever the case, he wasn't leaving until he'd spoken with her, even if he had to personally drag her hard-partying backside out of bed.

  First he'd make sure she knew how much he appreciated her taking time from her oh-so-busy retired schedule to talk to his sister. Then he'd do whatever it took to make sure she opted out of any more of Aurora's well-meaning, if somewhat ala
rming schemes. He had enough to worry about the next couple of weeks, watching over Gabrielle. The last thing he needed was to worry about a wild card like Tess Hamilton. Emphasis on the word "wild."

  Chapter 9

  Tess set up the ball machine and questioned her sanity for the hundredth time in the past couple of hours. She'd woken up to a cool, gorgeous sunny day and decided to take a walk around the grounds… only to discover that in addition to a manicured croquet lawn that would make Alice in Wonderland drool, Sir Robin also had a lovely, quite immaculately maintained grass court.

  "This is crazy," she muttered as she walked back around the net to her side of the court. She didn't even have her own rackets, for God's sake. This is so not the way to do this, she silently cautioned herself. Not that it was going to do any good. She was on a mission now.

  Wearing beat-up sneakers, gym shorts, and an oversized Stanford T-shirt of Bobby's, she gripped one of Sir Robin's admittedly decent rackets and took her stance on the baseline. The tension of the strings was all wrong, of course, and the grip was too big for her hand. The belly was too wide for her taste, and there was no damper on the strings. But despite every possible sign indicating she should seriously reconsider this endeavor, here she stood anyway.

  Well, at least if you make an idiot of yourself, the only person who's going to know is you. And Sir Robin's majordomo. She absently wondered how long it would take the tabloids to begin hounding the poor man. Not that what she was doing right now would be news. No one cared if Tess Hamilton did or didn't hit tennis balls around anymore. No, this moment only mattered to her.

  But as soon as anyone got wind of her financial downfall— and even she knew it was only a matter of time, what with her little plan of fixing her problems while in London not exactly panning out—they would be all over any teeny-tiny tidbit of information that would add to their "how the mighty have fallen" story.