Stephen Frey - Trust Fund

Give me more, the young woman murmured.

Bo Hancock smiled in his measured way, the hint of emotion veiled by midnight. He was enjoying the multitude of bright stars filling a moonless sky, the scent of Melissas perfume blending with the sweet smells of spring, and the absolute serenity of this place he dearly loved. They might have been the only two people on earth, but that was the estates charm. It made him feel safe.

Bo had grown up here, exploring every corner of the estates vast forest as a child. He knew it better than anyone. Hed played touch football on the great lawn in front of the playhouse with his father, brothers, uncles, and cousins before Thanksgiving dinner each year, the soft grass blanketed thinly by snow some Novembers, bathed in warm sunshine others. Hed canoed and swum in the cold, clear lake in summer and played hockey on its ice in winter. And he had experienced his first kiss beside the lake at fifteen, hidden with the girl in a grove of sweet-smelling cedar trees.

What do you mean, Melissa? Bo asked, his gravelly voice made even rougher by his fondness for alcohol and tobacco. Give you more what? He knew exactly what she meant.

The young woman brushed against him as they stood on the smooth granite of the mansions back veranda. More of your words-to-live-by, she answered, mesmerized by his voice. It was gruff for a young man, but oddly reassuring too. Like a shovel scraping rock and a cat purring at the same time.

Oh, I see, Bo said, drawing his words out. He took a drag on his cigarette before beginning. The best relationship you ever know will be the one in which you love each other for your faultsnot despite them.

Thats nice, Melissa said as his words dispersed slowly in the stillness of the evening, her voice all at once as raspy as his.

Bo chuckled softly. He had finally broken through her veneer of detachment. He understood why she needed that barrier, but it had gotten in the way of any meaningful conversation between them. He looked away from the many points of light suspended above them to admire her silhouette. She was tall and statuesque, with long, jet-black hair and eyes as dark and mysterious as the surrounding woods. You werent expecting anything quite so romantic, he said. Were you?

I dont know, she answered, trying to sound indifferent.

How about this one? Bo suggested, his tone lighter. He realized that he had caught her off guard and that she needed a lifeline. Saving people was one of the two things he enjoyed most in life, particularly when he had introduced the danger. And that was the other.

He took a swallow of scotch. Make certain you approach both love and cooking with reckless abandon.

Melissas laugh was genuine. What on earth does that mean?

It means Im willing to risk burning down the kitchen in pursuit of the perfect meal, he answered, a wry smile on his full lips.

Melissa tried to suppress her answering smile, but couldnt help herself.

He liked the way her eyes caught the starlight, and the way her long black hair shimmered down her back. She was a beautiful woman, and on one level he understood his brothers need for her. It means approach every day as if its your last. Never second-guess, never look back. Again Bos words resonated in the silence of the night. Its all those things.

Melissa tried to regain her composure, but Bo had a way about him. She wanted to confide in him, to feel his powerful arms wrapped around her. She sensed that he would understand her anguish. But none of that was possible.

Bo took another sip of scotch. You like me, dont you? he asked, leaning forward to catch her eye.

I dont like anyone, Melissa replied curtly, annoyed with herself for entertaining the fantasy. They had known each other casually for almost a year, but tonight was the first time they had been alone.

Yes, you do. Come on, admit it.

Youre so damn sure of yourself, arent you, Bo Hancock? You think you know everything. Well, you dont.

I know you were the one who sent Paul off to make his phone calls.

Melissa shut her eyes tightly, regretting the fact that she had asked Bo to come out here on the veranda alone with her. She found herself drawn to him, which wasnt good.

Admit it. A confident smile played across his lips. You like me.

Maybe, she said quietly.

From where they stood on the edge of the veranda a neatly manicured lawn sloped gently down to the lake. Melissa gazed steadily at the reflections in the black water, then turned to face Bo. Although he was only in his midtwenties, his natural sophistication and charmbenefits of a monied upbringing, she assumedmade him seem older and more insightful than a man just a few years removed from the ivy of Yale. He was about six feet tall, with broad shoulders, a barrel chest, and the forearms of a blacksmith. His handsome face was wide and strong, dominated by an imposing forehead with a small scar above one brow and piercing sapphire eyes. He kept his short dark hair neatly parted to one side, and tonight, as usual, wore a casual shirt and old jeans. She had rarely seen him in anything else.

Are you seeing anyone? Melissa asked, trying to move the conversation to safer ground.

Bo nodded. Yes. A woman named Meg Richards.

What company does her daddy own? Melissa asked sarcastically, regaining her hard edge. How many millions does she bring to the table?

She doesnt. Megs a middle-class girl from Long Island, he answered, rattling the ice cubes in his glass. Her father is a high school principal whos depending on his pension for retirement.

How did you meet her?

At Yale. She was there on an academic scholarship. I fell for her the moment I saw her walk into my political science class first year. Bos voice took on a distant tone as he relived the moment. I didnt get up the nerve to ask her out until second year, but then we were inseparable for six months. We were out of touch for a while after graduation, but I never lost that feeling I had the first time I saw her. Thats how I knew she was the one. About a year ago I tracked her down and we picked right back up. Using the resources at his disposal, he had asked the Hazeltine Security people to locate Meg. Hazeltine handled sensitive business projects for Bos father, James Jimmy Lee Hancock, and, on occasion, helped the family with personal matters that required discretion. I havent thought about anyone but her since.

Sounds serious, Melissa observed, a shard of jealousy entering her voice. She took a sip of wine.

I think it is.

But you arent sure.

Im sure, I just dont know if she is. I dont know what shell say when I open the black velvet box.

Give me a break, Melissa groaned. Whats any middle-class girl going to say to a Hancock son offering her five carats? She glanced over her shoulder. Is she really going to turn down all of this?

The huge structure rising behind them stood at the center of the Hancock familys secluded thousand-acre compound in Connecticuts rolling woodlands, forty miles northeast of New York City. On the estate were stables for thoroughbred horses, miles of riding trails weaving through the dense forest, a nine-hole golf course, tennis courts, the twenty-acre man-made lake stretching out before them, a boathouse on the far side of the lake, as well as five other mansions in addition to the playhouse, in the shadow of which Bo and Melissa now stood. Inside the playhouse were two more tennis courts, a pool, a fifty-seat movie theater, a formal dining hall, a billiard room, and several guest suites. Surrounding the entire compound was a tall chain-link fence topped by razor wire, obscured by the trees and constantly patrolled by a full-time security force, never seen but always present. Every bit of it was available to Bo, his older brothers Teddy and Paul, and their sister Catherine, whenever they wanted it. It also belonged to Bos younger sister, Ashley, but she seemed to have no interest in enjoying it. She had moved to Europe after finishing Harvard three years ago and had yet to return.