Master of Fortune / Marrying the Lone Star Maverick: Master of Fortune / Marrying the Lone Star Maverick

She downloaded the song on iTunes and added them to her playlist. One thing she’d learned working with Daniel was to be very familiar with the artists and groups that label was pursuing. So Steph was the first of many new artists she’d be listening to. It would help give her a feel for what Henry liked, too.

Henry entered the office a few minutes later with three other men, none of whom she knew. He directed the men into his office.

“Hold my calls,” Henry said.

“Certainly, sir. May I speak to you for a moment?” she asked.

“What’s up?”

“These men aren’t on your calendar…. Do you not want me to make your appointments?”

“Oh, of course I do. I’m just not used to having an assistant,” Henry said.

She nodded. “Do you need anything for the next thirty minutes?”

“That’s pretty specific,” Henry said.

“Sorry about that. I’d like to go for lunch. My sister just rang and said she could meet me,” Astrid clarified.

“Go on then. I’ll be in this meeting for at least that long.”

“Do you want me to bring you back something?”

“No. I’m meeting my … half brothers. That still sounds strange to me when I say it.”

“I’d heard you all were getting together lately.”

“Heard where?”

“Um … well, I read about it in Hello!” Astrid refused to be apologetic about it. Hello! and other celebrity magazines were a resource for people in their industry. Daniel used to have her keep clippings of their artists so they could track their popularity.

“Gossip rags?”

She arched one eyebrow at him. “Where else would I hear about your meeting them? We don’t exactly run in the same circles.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know the feeling. They aren’t my crowd either.”

“No, celebrities and footballers are more your speed,” she said. “I guess that’s how you have your finger on the pulse of what’s next.”

“Maybe. I think it’s more a feel for what the public is hungry for.”

He had a point. “I think you’re a very savvy man.”

“I am,” he said. “Before you head to lunch, will you call Marcus Wills for me? I’m supposed to have drinks with him, but I don’t think I’ll have time between meeting with the other Devonshire heirs.”

“Not a problem. Do you have his number handy? I haven’t merged your contents file with mine yet,” she said.

“I’ll IM it to you.”

“Great. I’ll take care of it.”

He nodded and walked away, and she couldn’t help but admire his butt. He stopped in the doorway and glanced back over his shoulder. She blushed when he gave her a knowing smile.

“I guess you still work out even though you don’t play anymore,” she said.

“Didn’t Hello! magazine have the scoop on my gym membership?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No, they didn’t. I’m hoping to make a little on the side by selling them the exclusive story.”

He threw his head back and laughed. And Astrid couldn’t help chuckling along with him. He was fun and after the heartache she’d endured for the past year of her life she needed that.

“You’ll do, Astrid.”

She winked at him. “I know I will.”

Henry went into his office, and Astrid made the call he’d asked her to before leaving to meet her sister, Bethann.

Bethann was sitting in the sun on one of the benches that lined the walkway along the Thames—the exact spot Astrid had met Daniel earlier. This part of London was newer and lined with glass-and-steel buildings, but across the river was the old Tower of London. Her sister looked up as she approached and waved.

Astrid hugged her sister as soon as she was close enough.

“How is the new job going?” Bethann asked.

“It’s good. I think working for Henry is going to be just what I need. He’s focused on signing new acts.”

Bethann handed her a sandwich. “Be careful. The last job nearly ruined you.”

She shook her head. It didn’t matter that they were both grown woman; Bethann still thought of her as her baby sister who needed looking after.

“I am very aware of that. I just meant … never mind.”

Bethann reached over and put her arm around Astrid’s shoulders. “I love you, sweetie. I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

“I won’t be,” Astrid said. She’d made up her mind when Daniel had fired her that she wouldn’t be used again. Not by any man. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy working for Henry.

Considering he, Geoff and Steve all had the same father, they didn’t really have that much in common. If he had to guess why, he’d say it came down to their mothers: three very different women.

Malcolm had played fast and loose with all of their mothers. The paparazzi had photographed him leaving all of their residences, and Henry knew from things his mother had said that seeing Malcolm with his other lovers had slowly crushed her.

Tiffany had gone through a total confidence change in the six months leading up to his birth. No longer the brassy Irish singer who had melted men’s hearts, she’d turned distrustful of compliments and started to doubt her own abilities as a singer.

The paps still dogged her even after she’d broken things off with Malcolm. But in later years she’d found happiness with Gordon—a kind of love, she told Henry when he’d asked her about it, that she’d never found with Malcolm. She’d said that her love with Malcolm had burned hot and fast but that Gordon was a slow burn. Henry hadn’t understood that as a teenage boy, but as a man he was starting to.

He was very aware the paparazzi were probably having a field day seeing the three brothers together now, which was why they’d chosen to meet at The Athenaeum Club instead of a pub. He’d learned as a youngster that ignoring them and going about his life was the only way to be happy.

And happiness was one of his chief concerns. He saw Geoff sitting on a high stool at a table in the back of the establishment and nodded to acknowledge him.

Henry was stopped several times by fans from his playing days as he walked through the pub. Henry exchanged a few words with every one of them. Shook their hands and signed napkins and scraps of paper. His stepfather had always said that players should remember without the fans they’d be back on their local pitch playing for fun instead of money.