A.C. Arthur - Desire a Donovan

Lyra knew him like she knew each line in the palm of her hand. It wasn’t hard though, by the end of the month Mark’s new assistant would probably know him just as well. And yet she still felt closer to Dion.

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I understand this is your career. But don’t make any plans for next Saturday. My mom wants us to come over for dinner.”

Lyra groaned. “The Donovans are having their annual Wish Upon a Star charity ball that Saturday. All the family is expected to be there.”

There was a pause on the phone, and Lyra knew that Mark was thinking she wasn’t really a member of the Donovan family, although he’d never say that to her. While they’d been in L.A., he’d constantly reminded her that the Donovans were not blood, that what Janean did was out of charity and that it was time she lived her life without clinging to them.

“You haven’t been there for the past ten years. I’m sure they won’t miss you for one more,” he argued.

“The difference is I’m staying in their house now. They’ll expect me to be there.”

“And that’s another thing. We can get an apartment until we find a house. You don’t have to stay with them.”

“I know that, Mark. I can get my own apartment for that matter. But it means a lot to Janean that I spend some time with them after being away for so long.”

“I’m starting to feel like your mother where the Donovans are concerned. It’s just not healthy the way they’re attached to you and you to them. You don’t belong.”

“And just where do I belong?” she asked, as the headache that had been a dull pain after her argument with Dion began to ramp up a notch.

“Calm down, sweetie. Listen to what I’m trying to say. You and I come from regular families who go out and work hard to make a way for themselves. We’re not from money and privilege.”

“But your salary just made you a millionaire before your thirtieth birthday. That doesn’t exactly make you a ‘regular’ guy.”

“That’s money I earned, Lyra. Not money that was given to me. It’s different. They’re different. And you shouldn’t spend your time trying to fit in with them.”

His words hurt, mainly because she’d been telling herself that most of her life. She knew the Donovans were different, knew that they weren’t part of her family. So she didn’t need Mark to remind her of that fact.

“Go to dinner at your mother’s on Saturday and give her my apologies. I won’t be there.”

“Wait,” Mark said hastily. “Don’t hang up angry. I don’t want us to fight, not about this anyway. I’ll take you to the charity ball, and on Sunday we’ll spend the day with my parents. Okay?”

Lyra was quiet. Her elbows were propped up on her desk and she began to wonder why she didn’t just end things with Mark. “Fine,” she said with a sigh. Because it was just like Dion had said, she needed to grow a backbone.

* * *

“What’s on your mind?” Sean asked the moment he stepped into Dion’s office and closed the door.

Dion looked up from his desk then stared down at the Rolex on his left wrist. “Meeting’s not for another fifteen minutes.”

Sean nodded walking closer to the desk and taking a seat in one of the guest chairs. “That’s why I came early to ask you what’s going on?”

Spreading his palms on the desk, it was apparent to Dion that Sean had something on his mind. He realized that he wasn’t going to get to finish reading the distribution reports he’d just received from Sean’s assistant.

“Why don’t you tell me what you think is going on, because I’m sure you have some little idea roaming around in that head of yours,” Dion said, sitting back in his chair and looking directly at his brother.

They were close, almost like twins but not. They even looked alike—they were both tall with slim, muscular builds, and they both had the same caramel complexion that their mother had. Sean was the studious brother with runway-model looks, a square jawline and a cleft chin, and dreamy eyes that girls loved to stare into. Dion almost laughed as he remembered back in high school girls said exactly that about his younger brother. On the other hand, he was the athletic one with rugged good looks and a bad-boy image that made him attractive to a totally different type of girl. Still, there was no denying that the Donovan men were just as attractive and just as unattainable as their cousins in Las Vegas.

“Lyra’s downstairs with Regan. I hear she’s got her assignments and plans on hitting the ground running.”

Dion rubbed his chin. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“It’s a very good thing for Infinity, since Lyra’s a phenomenal photographer. We’re more than lucky to have her on board, and it’s good for Lyra because I think she missed being around family.”

“So it’s a win-win all around.”

“I think you know that,” Sean suggested.

“Just spit it out, man,” Dion said.

“Okay, since you want me to spell it out,” Sean said with a frown. “Mom says she’s talking about getting married later in the year, to that internet company guy.”

“I know. His name’s Mark.”

“He’s the one she left to go to L.A. with.”

Dion nodded. “The one and only.”

“And now they’re back and getting married.”

“You’re wasting time going over facts we already know.”

“Then how about we talk about the one we both keep skirting around?”

“And what’s that?”

“You don’t like Mark whatever his name is. You don’t want Lyra to marry him.”

Dion sighed. “Sean. Don’t do this.”

“Don’t say what you’re thinking. Who the hell is this guy and what are his real intentions toward Lyra?”

“They’ve been together for years. She knows what she’s doing.”

“Really? You think so? Because from what I saw of her last night, she looks like she’s undecided.”

Now that had Dion’s attention. “I didn’t see that.”

“Because you were too busy trying to ignore her, which I don’t really understand at the moment. Each time Mom asked her about the plans for the wedding she clammed up. When Regan asked her when they were going shopping for dresses, she changed the subject. What woman do you know isn’t ecstatic about planning their wedding and ready to talk about the preparations until they’re blue in the face?”

Sean had a point. One that Dion hadn’t considered because he didn’t want to hear about Lyra’s wedding plans any more than Lyra wanted to talk about them. He’d never liked Stanford, the internet guy, and disliked him even more for taking Lyra away and convincing her to marry him. But that was his issue, not Sean’s.

“Look, Lyra’s a grown woman. She can make her own decisions.”

“What if she’s not seeing things clearly? You know how women can be. Don’t you think, as her brothers, we at least owe it to her to check things out, make sure she’s making the right decision?”

No. Oh, God, no. Because if Dion found out Stanford didn’t have Lyra’s best interests at heart, he’d kill that bastard. He only needed one more excuse to beat that pompous wannabe to a pulp.

“I don’t want to interfere. Besides, Lyra’s got bigger problems than that.”

“Like what?”

“Paula’s back.”

Sean pinched the bridge of his nose, something he often did when he was stressed. “God, why can’t that woman just disappear? Haven’t we given her enough money to do that?”

“You know money for people like her is another kind of drug. Every time she gets a little she needs more. I told Lyra to stop enabling her.”

“And what’d she say?”

“She told me it’s her mother, just like she always does.”