The Right Bride - By Jennifer Ryan Page 0,11

was tired and not about to stand for my grandfather’s disappointment in the daughter she’d just brought into the world. She got out of bed with me in her arms and walked to my grandfather. She unceremoniously dumped me into his arms, wrapped in my pink blanket, and told him, ‘This is your namesake, Martina Fairchild, and you are to take care of her until I get back.’

“My father and grandmother erupted into laughter. My mother marched into the bathroom to take a shower. My grandfather stood there, frowning, holding his namesake, a girl.

“He took it in stride, I’m told. He sat in a chair with me in his arms and began reading the financial page to me. My grandmother told me I promptly burped and went to sleep after my grandfather told me Fairchild Industries’ stock was up two points. Apparently, I wasn’t impressed.

“I’m just thankful my mother thought better than to name me Martin, as my grandfather expected of his first grandchild,” she joked and rolled her eyes expressively.

George laughed so hard he held his sides and coughed. She patted his back and laughed with him.

“I haven’t laughed like this in a long time. I can just imagine him holding you and wondering what to do with a little girl. You are good for me, Marti. Dinner tonight at seven?”

“Perfect. I have my meeting downtown, but I should make it by seven.”

“Let’s meet at Decadence in the Merrick International building. Do you know where it is?”

“I’ll find it.” She swept her hands from her head down her body. “I’ll even dry off and be presentable when I arrive. Do you think the lawyers will mind my appearance?” She combed her fingers through her long, wet hair, feeling like a wet rag.

“For as much money as they charge, they should offer to buy you a new dress just to keep your business.”

He walked her to the parking lot, her arm entwined with his. She worried about his shivers and hoped he went straight home and got warm.

She smiled at the Bentley, complete with driver, waiting nearby.

“You had your driver bring you here so you could throw yourself into the sea?”

“I hate traffic.” He gave her a lopsided grin and shrugged. Humor danced in his now bright eyes, letting her know the despair of moments ago had passed.

“I didn’t really have a plan beyond my initial thought it was time to end it all and let the others fight it out. I have a better idea of what to do now, thanks to you. I’ll take some time and make the appropriate decisions. I think your grandfather would say I was a man who fought for every inch I gained. Over the last several years, my family has worn me down to the point where I just didn’t care what happened to my estate. I think I’d rather go out the man your grandfather and you remember.”

“Will you be all right? I hate to leave you if you’re still considering doing something supremely stupid.”

“Supremely stupid.” His lopsided grin turned to a contemplative frown. “I guess you’re right. I’m fine now, thanks to you. Promise you’ll come to dinner.”

“It’s a promise. If I’m a few minutes late, I hope you’ll wait for me. My uncle can sometimes be long-winded.”

“Dinner is more than seven hours away.”

“I’ll use it as an excuse to get out of there,” she said, exasperated. “How long can he talk without having dinner? Right?”

George smiled, feeling lighter and younger than he had in years. He thought about some of the things he knew about her from Marty’s stories. Something stuck out.

“Your grandfather once told me you were extremely private. He said you prefer to keep things to yourself.”

Marti smiled. Her grandfather’s way of saying his granddaughter didn’t like to advertise she was heir to the Fairchild empire. Too many people held preconceived ideas when they heard someone belonged to a wealthy family. Her grandmother was a famous artist. When they found out she was her granddaughter, they automatically made assumptions about whether she painted or had artistic ability. She’d rather people looked at her for who she was, and not what they thought she was based on her family ties.

“I’d prefer it if you just thought of me as Marti. I’m sure you’d agree, when you add on a family name like Fairchild or Knight, people automatically have a picture of who they think you are. I like to be myself.”

“Your grandmother was right about you, you’re unique.

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