Free Chosen for Power (Women of Power, #1) by Kathleen Brooks Page B

the bridge of her nose to get a closer look at Elle’s necklace. “A harp, oh my. I daresay your father would approve.” Shirley smiled.
    “Thank you, Shirley. But we are really trying to keep it quiet. Family only, okay?” Elle instructed as she fingered her necklace. Drake’s thoughtfulness still brought a smile to her face.
    “Only family, huh? Looks like I was left out again,” a plaintive voice said.
    Elle looked up at her cousin Mary and felt her heart plummet. Her cousin had a sensitive streak a mile wide. Mary was just a year younger than Elle and had inherited their grandfather’s golden-blond hair that had turned redder as she got older, but the similarities ended there. They may have looked somewhat alike, but their personalities were totally opposite. As Mallory pointed out, Elle refused to be weak while Mary was one walking sob story after another.
    Three years ago Mary’s mother, Elle’s Aunt Flory, had come to her with one such sob story. Mary had been dumped by a boyfriend who had cleaned out her bank account before disappearing. Aunt Flory had bit into the fact that Elle had more money than she could ever use and refused to let it go. Then she reminded Elle of her obligation to the rest of the family they had left behind when they made it big. Elle had refrained from rolling her eyes. It was funny she’d had the gall to even make that argument when Aunt Flory had refused to help the Simpsons through rough patches when Elle was a kid. However, Elle was similarly her mother’s daughter, and manners had been inherited along with a strong work ethic. And now, three years later, Mary still moped around the office reminding Elle and her sisters how bad her life was.
    “Hi, Mary. How are you doing today?” Allegra tried asking with her cheeriest voice.
    “Not so well . . . as if you all would care as you sit and count your money. We normal people have problems, you know,” Mary complained as she took the seat Bree vacated in order to stand by Allegra.
    “I’m sorry, Mary. Is there anything we can do to help?” Bree asked.
    “No,” Mary sighed. “I’m suffering from a broken heart.”
    “Humph,” Shirley snorted. “You’re wasting your time on that one. Trouble, I tell you, is Dean’s middle name.”
    Mary’s eyes went wide. “How did you know?”
    “I heard you blubbering to your mother about it just this morning. You need to work more and talk to your mother less.”
    Mary’s face went red. “You old coot! You need to turn your hearing aids down. It’s none of your beeswax. Elle, fire her at once.”
    “Mary, I’m not going to fire her.” Elle tried to hide the suffering in her voice. “Instead, I’m going to agree with her. Be careful with Dean. I don’t know if he’d treat you the way you deserve.”
    “As if you're care. It sounds as if you have all the luck. First that hunk Chord, then the dreamy Noah, and now another Mr. Perfect.”
    Bree narrowed her eyes and stepped forward. “You have no idea what you’re talking about Mary. Those men were horrible to Elle. Now she’s finally found someone who seems to care about her. But don’t you think we’re all wondering if Drake Charles is just like the others?" Catching herself on the slip-up, she turned to her big sister. "Sorry, Elle. And Mary, we do care about you. No matter how many times we tell you, you just don’t seem to believe us.”
    “Drake Charles. The Drake Charles? I give up. Life is so unfair.”
    “It looks like I have all the luck to be in a room of such beautiful women,” Dean grinned as he sauntered into the office with his overly gelled hair and manicured nails. “Nothing like being the fox in the henhouse.”
    “Yes, but these hens will peck the fox’s eyes out if he tries anything,” Bree said as she crossed her arms over her chest while Mary blushed ten shades of red.
    “Feisty. I like it.”
    Bree cringed. “I’m outta here.”
    “I’ll join you,” Shirley and Allegra said a little