not her, and not to worry, that she wouldn’t let anyone, including her grandson, take advantage of her.
“Has he talked to you yet?” Reece asked. “Tried to send you away or make it worth your while to convince Grandmother you can’t fit her into your schedule? Or maybe he’ll decide she can have a smaller—much smaller—garden.”
“Not yet. He’s probably checking out his options. First he’ll try to change her mind. When that fails, he’ll either bring in other family members—”
Reece interrupted with a snort that made Jones grin.
“—or talk to his lawyer to see what legal steps can be taken.”
“He mentioned Grandmother’s lawyer.” The thought of that kind of interference irritated her. Having been married to Grandfather for fifty-some years certainly entitled Grandmother to spend her money on anything she wanted, even if it was clowns performing every day in a combination water/skateboard park on the front lawn. “Has it really come to legal action on any of your jobs?”
“Just once, in Florida. Old man with grown children and a new bride. He left the bulk of his estate to his kids, but the wife got to spend pretty freely while she lived. The kids insisted she was trying to bleed the estate dry to punish them. The thing is, the kids were going to get about $20 million each, and they paid their lawyers more than the project was budgeted for to fight over the cost of a five-acre garden.”
Uncomfortable in her crouching position, Reece sat up, then scooted to one side before patting the seat. Mick crawled up with her, the front half of his body across her lap. “Twenty million dollars. Wow. You could do a lot of good with that kind of money.”
“Not those people. Money had never made them happy, and it never would.”
Had money made Grandmother and Grandfather happy? Did it make Mark happy? After considering it a moment, Reece decided she couldn’t reconcile the notion of her grandparents and happiness. They just weren’t the smiles-and-joy type.
Mark, on the other hand… He’d always had money and had taken it for granted. She would bet the idea of not being wealthy had never crossed his mind; it was literally unthinkable. And, like many overindulged children, he’d grown into an adult for whom, apparently, the more he had, the more he wanted.
What about Jones? She watched him, gazing into the darkness. “Does money make you happy?”
His gaze flickered to hers, and a thin smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Money’s important. I won’t deny that. There have been times, back when I was in college, when I could barely pay my rent or buy groceries, and the last few years I’ve made more than I can spend. I definitely prefer the extra cash. But there’s a lot more to being happy than that.”
“So are you happy?” It was a nosy question, too personal to ask someone she’d known less than forty-eight hours. Valerie would admonish her; Grandmother would remind her that Howard women never pried. But Jones was free to ignore the question or tell her it was none of her business. She wouldn’t be offended.
He was quiet a long time, as if it wasn’t an easy answer for him. Finally, he exhaled loudly. “Yeah, I guess. For the most part.”
What parts of his life was he unhappy with? Besides his estrangement from his family, what would have to change to make his answer a simple Yes, I am?
He turned the question back on her. “What about you? Are you happy?”
“Yes,” she said immediately, then, feeling a flush of guilt for not being totally honest, she added, “For the most part. I, uh…” She looked at him, then focused her gaze on the dog settled so contentedly in her lap. “I don’t get along with my mother, I’m not close to my grandmother and cousin, and I’d like to get married and have kids someday though I’ve never met anyone I’d remotely consider tying myself to. But other than that and…that summer, yes, I’m happy. I like my job. I love
“Has he talked to you yet?” Reece asked. “Tried to send you away or make it worth your while to convince Grandmother you can’t fit her into your schedule? Or maybe he’ll decide she can have a smaller—much smaller—garden.”
“Not yet. He’s probably checking out his options. First he’ll try to change her mind. When that fails, he’ll either bring in other family members—”
Reece interrupted with a snort that made Jones grin.
“—or talk to his lawyer to see what legal steps can be taken.”
“He mentioned Grandmother’s lawyer.” The thought of that kind of interference irritated her. Having been married to Grandfather for fifty-some years certainly entitled Grandmother to spend her money on anything she wanted, even if it was clowns performing every day in a combination water/skateboard park on the front lawn. “Has it really come to legal action on any of your jobs?”
“Just once, in Florida. Old man with grown children and a new bride. He left the bulk of his estate to his kids, but the wife got to spend pretty freely while she lived. The kids insisted she was trying to bleed the estate dry to punish them. The thing is, the kids were going to get about $20 million each, and they paid their lawyers more than the project was budgeted for to fight over the cost of a five-acre garden.”
Uncomfortable in her crouching position, Reece sat up, then scooted to one side before patting the seat. Mick crawled up with her, the front half of his body across her lap. “Twenty million dollars. Wow. You could do a lot of good with that kind of money.”
“Not those people. Money had never made them happy, and it never would.”
Had money made Grandmother and Grandfather happy? Did it make Mark happy? After considering it a moment, Reece decided she couldn’t reconcile the notion of her grandparents and happiness. They just weren’t the smiles-and-joy type.
Mark, on the other hand… He’d always had money and had taken it for granted. She would bet the idea of not being wealthy had never crossed his mind; it was literally unthinkable. And, like many overindulged children, he’d grown into an adult for whom, apparently, the more he had, the more he wanted.
What about Jones? She watched him, gazing into the darkness. “Does money make you happy?”
His gaze flickered to hers, and a thin smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Money’s important. I won’t deny that. There have been times, back when I was in college, when I could barely pay my rent or buy groceries, and the last few years I’ve made more than I can spend. I definitely prefer the extra cash. But there’s a lot more to being happy than that.”
“So are you happy?” It was a nosy question, too personal to ask someone she’d known less than forty-eight hours. Valerie would admonish her; Grandmother would remind her that Howard women never pried. But Jones was free to ignore the question or tell her it was none of her business. She wouldn’t be offended.
He was quiet a long time, as if it wasn’t an easy answer for him. Finally, he exhaled loudly. “Yeah, I guess. For the most part.”
What parts of his life was he unhappy with? Besides his estrangement from his family, what would have to change to make his answer a simple Yes, I am?
He turned the question back on her. “What about you? Are you happy?”
“Yes,” she said immediately, then, feeling a flush of guilt for not being totally honest, she added, “For the most part. I, uh…” She looked at him, then focused her gaze on the dog settled so contentedly in her lap. “I don’t get along with my mother, I’m not close to my grandmother and cousin, and I’d like to get married and have kids someday though I’ve never met anyone I’d remotely consider tying myself to. But other than that and…that summer, yes, I’m happy. I like my job. I love
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