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“Dad enjoyed making money too much to just give it away.”
    Stephen nodded. “I wonder what we’d be doing if Dad had lived?”
    “Not what we’re doing now, that’s for sure,” Lance said, with a rueful smile.
    Gwen and Stephen laughed sheepishly. Then Gwen asked Stephen, “What do you do with all your time, Stephen?”
    He shrugged. “Oh, this and that. Rachel and I have a few ventures going. Doing quite a bit of traveling and dabbling in real estate. That sort of thing.”
    Gwen looked at him skeptically, but let it drop.
    “I’ve been playing a lot of poker too. That’s been very lucrative. I won a couple of tournaments this year. I’m thinking of joining the professional poker tour.”
    “Poker? Are you still into that?” Lance asked. “We should have a game while we’re here. You’ll blow us out, as usual, Stephen, but it would be fun.”
    “I’m in,” Glen said.
    “I’ll be happy to take your money,” Stephen replied, smiling.
    Lance studied his brother. “So you’re going to play with the pros, huh?” he said. “You definitely have the skills and the poker face. You’re by far and away the best poker player I’ve ever run across. But be careful around those pros, Stephen. They really know what they’re doing.”
    Stephen pursed his lips. “I know what I’m doing too, big brother.” 
    “I know you do,” Lance replied quickly. “Just be careful. There’s only so much money in the till. Especially now.”
    The room went silent.
    Finally, Glen asked, “Isn’t there anything we can do to change your mother’s mind about this charity thing?”
    Lance leaned forward toward the group like a coach giving a pep talk to his players. “You know, maybe Mom will come around. She’s probably just upset. We need to do some repair work. The whole thing started because of Helga. Gwen, maybe you could apologize to her.”
    He added gently to his wife, “Yvette, honey, maybe you could be extra nice to Helga too.”
    Yvette shrugged. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”
    She stood up. “Duchess and I are tired. Let’s go to bed, Lance.”
    As the group broke up and started toward the staircase, a figure standing in the shadows of the hallway to the kitchen backed away. Helga hadn’t missed a word of their conversation.

Chapter Eighteen

    Yvette stood in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom in her long silk dressing gown, closely examining her face. She smoothed the skin on her cheeks with both hands, and slowly pulled her hands back toward her ears.
    “Lancie, do you think I’m as pretty as I used to be?”
    Lance jumped off the bed, hurried across the room, and wrapped his arms around his wife. They both stared at her reflection in the mirror.
    “You’re even more beautiful,” Lance answered lovingly, snuggling his face into her hair. “You get more beautiful every day.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “And your arms have gotten so toned. All that working out is really paying off.”
    She flexed a delicate bicep and Lance squeezed it. “You’re getting so strong. I’m so proud of you.”
    Yvette leaned into the mirror again and examined a pale line on her cheek. She gave her reflection a pouty look, and then began examining the creases on her forehead that the expression added to her face.
    “I think I might need to have some more work done,” she said sulkily.
    “No, darling,” Lance told her. “You can’t improve on perfection.”
    Yvette continued to look critically at her reflection. “But when you’re up on the big screen, every little line is magnified.” She turned to face him. “You aren’t just saying ‘no’ because we can’t afford it, are you? Are we going to be poor?”
    Lance cleared his throat and searched for the right words to respond. “Of course, we’re not going to be poor, darling. We may just have to cut back a bit on a few things. I’ll probably have to sell the helicopter, but that will tide us over for a