Arlene James - A Bride To Honor

“I don’t think we want to go there,” Paul said quickly, frowning.

Hoot linked his hands over a slightly protruding belly. “Hmph!” He looked at Cassidy. “It’s that family of his. Bunch of leeches, if you ask me.”

“Hoot.”

He waved a hand to indicate that he considered Paul’s protest so much spent air. “Long time ago there was a fight in the family over how to run the business, so they decided to pick a goat.”

“Goat?”

“He means a scapegoat,” Paul explained, “and he’s way off base.”

“The ‘goat,’” Hoot said, “runs the business, and the rest of them go on their merry way, trusting him to take care of them all. He gets all the headaches, and they get nice fat checks dropped into their pockets at regular intervals.”

“It gives me a free hand in running the business,” Paul said.

“Is that the way you see it? Seems to me they tie your hands.” He said to Cassidy, “They leave him out on a limb and pretend not to notice when someone else comes along with a saw. He can’t vote their shares, and he can’t ask them to vote with him. If he could, he could tell Hydra to take her marriage scheme and stick it—”

“Hoot!”

“All right, all right, I get it.” He pointed at Cassidy. “This one’s a lady. The other one is a she-devil.”

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