In Sage’s experience, the wealthy fell into one of two categories: those who desperately wanted to be important and those who were born believing they were. Mrs. Westerly was the latter.
A butler answered her door with a surprisingly welcoming smile. “Miss Revere, what a pleasant surprise. I’ll announce you to Mrs. Westerly.”
How did he know? “Thank you,” Sage said. People in her mother’s circle and above dissected each other, always weighing if the other was worthy. Mrs. Westerly probably knows more about my life and family now than I do. I should ask her how my stepmother’s trip to London went.
It wasn’t more than a moment or so before the butler was back. “Please follow me.”
Sage did. He led her to the doorway of a large library.
“She’s right inside. My name is Michael if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Michael.”
Sage spotted Mrs. Westerly almost immediately. The birdlike older woman was dressed as if she were ready to take tea with the queen. “Come in. Come in,” she said brusquely. “Don’t just stand there in the doorway gawking at me.”
Sage took a deep breath and stepped inside. “Thank you for seeing me without an appointment.”
“Of course. Anyone with manners would bend their schedule to accommodate the needs of another.”
Nice dig, but I’ve received better from my mother. Sage had come with a purpose, and she refused to be sidetracked—Delinda Westerly would get her apology even if Sage had to sit on her while she delivered it. “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.”
“We certainly did.”
Sage stepped closer. “I wasn’t having the best day, and my mood might have spilled over into our conversation.”
In cultured, perfect French, Mrs. Westerly said, “Not your fault. You can only behave as you were raised.”
Oh, so that’s how this is going to go? Confident in her own French, Sage responded in kind. “We all do the best we can. I am, however, sorry for any inconvenience I caused.”
Mrs. Westerly’s eyes narrowed. Her next words were in Spanish. “Regretfully, I haven’t had the time to meet your mother.”
Sage seamlessly switched to that language. “A shame. I believe she would have enjoyed the visit.” Then, just because she was tiring of the game, Sage asked in Japanese, “How many languages do you speak? Because I speak four.”
Mrs. Westerly rose to her feet and switched to English once again. “Impressive, but no level of education can replace a poor pedigree.”
“Clearly,” Sage muttered. She’d come. She’d apologized. Some people didn’t want to be happy, and those were the ones she couldn’t help.
“Pardon? If you are tossing insults, at least have the decency to make them audible.”
Tempting as it was to release some steam on this haughty woman a second time, Sage kept her temper in check. She decided to leave while she still felt good about her own contribution to the conversation. “Thank you for seeing me, Mrs. Westerly. I’ve said what I came to say. I should not have blown up on the phone as I did, and I regretted it as soon as we hung up.”
Sage was turning to leave when Mrs. Westerly called out her name.
“Miss Revere.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t like you, and I would appreciate it if in the future you would stay away from both me and my family.”
“Okay.” It was a strange warning coming from a woman who had invited her to dinner. It was also an easy request to honor, since Sage was reasonably certain she’d never met another Westerly. “It was a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Westerly.”
Mrs. Westerly walked over until she was just a foot or so away. She squared her shoulders as if facing an adversary. “I do not make idle threats, young lady. You may be able to fool some people with that sweet smile, but I know too much about you. Your parents cut you off, so now you make a living swindling people. If I had my way, you’d already be in prison, but trust me, that is something I will remedy if I see you again.”
“You don’t know anything about me or what I do.” Sage leaned forward and said, “I came here because I felt I owed you an apology, and although you are tempting me to tell you what I think of you once again, I will not. You are clearly a very unhappy woman, but I wish nothing but the best for you and your family. I cannot imagine another occasion when our paths would cross.”
Sage didn’t give the older woman a chance to respond. She didn’t see how that would have taken the conversation anywhere better than where it was ending. Michael was beside her in an instant.
“Leaving so soon, Miss Revere?”
“You mean I wasn’t in there for hours?” Sage joked, then felt bad, because he had been nothing but polite to her. “Yes, I have somewhere else I need to be.” Anywhere but with her.
“Mrs. Westerly sometimes comes across as harsh, but—”
“I’m sure she’s a lovely woman once you know her.” They reached the door, and when he didn’t immediately open the door for her, Sage said, “Thank you, Michael.”
He looked as if he wanted to say more but nodded and opened the door. “I hope we see you again, Miss Revere.”
He apparently had not been eavesdropping on the conversation. However, no purpose would be served by telling him what she thought of his boss. So Sage said, “I hope so, too.”
Sage had been on her way home when her phone rang with a number she didn’t recognize. “Hello?”
“Miss Revere?”
“Yes.”
“I met you in the park the other day. You and your friend gave me your card.”
“Oh yes.” Sage’s mood instantly improved. Life had a way of balancing out. “I’m so glad you decided to call.”
He cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about houseplants. I’m considering getting some. What exactly do you do?”
“It depends on what you need, but I can help you pick them out. I’ll arrange them to be delivered to your place, or I can deliver them myself. Usually I do a consultation on care on the first day, then it’s up to you if you require more. Some plants adapt easily to a new place. Others need a period of adjustment.”
“And your fee?”
“To spend a few hours choosing and purchasing plants, I charge one hundred dollars. Consultations are fifty dollars.”
“Do you require usage of my credit card?”
“Oh no. I wouldn’t want that responsibility. If you don’t have time to go with me, I can purchase them and you can reimburse me, but you’ll be much happier if you choose them yourself. You’ll be caring for them—you should choose the ones you’d like the most.”
“And that’s it? No contract? I don’t need to sign up for anything? How do you want to be paid? Cash?”
“You can pay me in cash. I have a list of prior clients if you’d like a referral from one or more of them.”
“I’d like that. If I say yes, when and where would this happen?”
“Do you know Columbia Road Flower Market? We could meet there later this week. I’ll text you some names and numbers. Take a couple of days to contact a few. If you have a change of heart and decide you don’t require my services, send me a text. Otherwise, we’ll meet up later in the week.”
“That sounds perfect. My name is John Kirby.”
“I look forward to helping you make some greenery friends. I’ve never met someone who regretted adding a plant to their home.”
“Good to know. Thank you, Miss Revere.”
“You’re very welcome, Mr. Kirby.”
I knew it. I knew he’d call. With her phone still in her hand, Sage was tempted to text Wayne the news. He’d said he wanted to be there when she met with the man. No. If he calls me, I’ll tell him; if he doesn’t—he didn’t really want to know.
Instead, Sage called someone she knew would care. “Bella, you are never going to believe who just called me.”
“Wayne Easton?”
“No. Mr. Kirby. The guy I met in
the park with Wayne. I’m going to meet him the day after tomorrow. I know I have to get the details on him, but I have a really good feeling about him. He’s lonely. Your neighbor is lonely. We’ll be invited to a wedding by Christmas. I just know it.”
“Oh boy.”
“You’re still going to help me set them up, right? You haven’t changed your mind? Wait until you see him. He’s adorable. I can easily imagine him helping her dress those little dogs.”
“I would tell you you’re nuts, but instead I’ll just buy a new dress for the future event. I don’t know how you do it, but I’d put money on that wedding happening—as implausible as it sounds.”
Sage smiled happily. “Want to get together tonight? I have quite the story for you.”
“Can you come to this side of town? I won’t be able to leave the office until late.”
“That’s fine. Our usual place?”
“You’re on.”
“If you’re there before me, order me an apple martini. It’s been a long day.”
“Oh no. Anything you want to talk about now?”
“No. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Sounds good.”
“Hang on, Sage. Before I forget. We finally got a hit on a Wayne Easton, and I don’t like it. I know what happened to his face.”
Sage stopped midstep. “What? Tell me.”
“Bar fight.”
“Was he attacked?” He didn’t seem the type to start something like that.
“The report didn’t say, but my instincts were right about him. He’s violent.”
“Or a victim.”
“Not likely. It sounds more like a situation where your friend gets drunk and starts harassing another man.”
“Does the report say that?”
“No.”
“Then what does it say?”
“His face was injured during a bar fight with a clown.”
Sage burst out laughing, then felt bad as soon as she realized Bella was serious. “There’s no way that’s how it happened.”
“That’s what my guy told me.”
“Well, your guy must be wrong. You’re a barrister. You know if something doesn’t sound right, it probably isn’t.”
Bella sighed. “I don’t like this guy. He’s hiding something. Are you seeing him again?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t called me since our date yesterday.”
“Sage, your instincts are usually spot-on, but they’re not with this one. Could you do me a favor? The next date you go on, take me with you.”
“That won’t be too awkward.”
“Please. Promise me.”
“Fine. But I may not ever see him again, anyway.”
“I’ve got to run, Sage, but we’ll talk more about this over dinner.”
“Then it looks like a martini night for me as well,” Sage said, but she laughed.
“I just care about you.”
“I know. I know. Go. We’ll chat later.”
Dinner had been wonderful, but it had concluded without Bella or Sage in agreement over Wayne. Since Bella was so wound up, Sage glossed over how her apology to Mrs. Westerly had gone. She left off the part where the woman had threatened to have her jailed. That kind of talk made lawyers nervous.
She also didn’t mention the reason behind the threat. Sage didn’t know any of the Westerly family unless—and she almost dismissed it as impossible as the idea came to her—Wayne was more than that famous actor’s doppelgänger.
Ridiculous.
Still—a clown bar fight?
It sounded like the punch line of a joke.
Bella was correct about one thing . . . something about Wayne wasn’t right.
Is he lying to me?
I’m getting as paranoid as Bella.
But without the scar, Wayne was a dead ringer for the movie star.
He looks so much like Eric Westerly. But if he is . . .
Everything he’d said to her, every experience they’d shared, would have been a lie. All she thought she knew about him—from his shame about his appearance to his struggle with money—wouldn’t be true.
She didn’t want to believe it.
He would be just another rich, unhappy soul she was meant to help in some way.
Not a man I could spend the rest of my life with—just another client I confused with more.
She tossed her phone down on the couch beside her. I need to stop. I’m not going to resolve this tonight—all I’m going to do is upset myself. When I see Wayne, if I see him again, I’ll ask him. Face-to-face.
Chapter Nine
Eric closed his eyes briefly as he waited for his grandmother to answer her phone. One ring. Two rings. He half hoped for the reprieve of having his call go to her voice mail.
No, I’ve got this.
“Eric, are you all right? When you didn’t call me last night . . .”
“I’m fine, De—” He stopped before calling her by her first name, because he knew how much it bothered her. “Hello, Grandmother.”
“It is so good to hear your voice, Eric.”
There was a vulnerability and emotion in her tone he hadn’t expected. Although she wasn’t English, she maintained a stiff-upper-lip coolness, even with her family. He’d once known how to break through her tough exterior but hadn’t seen the softer side of her since he was very young. “How are you?”
“I’m well. I heard you’re returning to Vandorra to visit the children’s hospital. What a wonderful way to use your celebrity status to help people. I’m proud of you.”
Whoa. I was not expecting that. “Thank you.” There was a long, awkward pause before Eric asked, “Is it true you’re dating King Tadeas?”
She tsked. “Dating? We’re not teenagers. We spend time together, that’s all. Now that Rachelle and Magnus are married, it makes sense for us to attend the same events.”
“I like him, Grandmother. My impression of him was only good.”
“He likes you, too, Eric. In fact, he’s been spending a lot of time in London, in case you—”
“I’m fine, Grandmother.”
“I know you are, but if there is anything you need—anything—I’m here.”
He waited for her signature judgmental zinger, but none came. If this were one of his movies, Water Bear Man would reveal her then and there as an impostor. A switch had certainly been made, because this was not the grandmother he knew. “I appreciate the offer, but as I’ve said, I’m fine.”
When she spoke again, her voice was thick with emotion. “I know I’m not always easy to talk to, but I do love you, Eric. You have no idea how much. I have failed you and my other grandchildren in so many ways, but if you give me another chance, I want very much to be a part of your life.”
It was a moment of choice for Eric. There was no law that said he had to agree to let her back in. Any control she’d once had over him had dissolved when he started making his own money. Saying no would keep her out of his life, out of his business. It was the safer, less frustrating of the two options. Was it what he wanted, though? Distancing himself from his family hadn’t made him a happier person.
He thought about Sage and the kind of man she belonged with. He’d told her he wanted to fly with her—not clip her wings. Those hadn’t just been words designed to impress her. He’d meant them.
Still, Delinda didn’t do things halfway. He didn’t want to go back to when she’d felt she could comment on every aspect of his life. So where did that leave them?
Could he—as Brett had suggested he should—establish boundaries? Was she capable of respecting them?
A memory of sitting beside her in her garden in Massachusetts came back to him. He’d been doing an impression of his headmaster, and she was laughing right along with him. Where had that part of their relationship gone?
“Would you like to accompany me to Vandorra?” Really, there was no better test of this softer side of her than standing beside her while dressed in his superhero costume. The
grandmother he missed would see the humor and value in it. If she could put aside her pride and stand beside him for the benefit of the children, Eric could see a real chance for them working things out. If she couldn’t, he’d have his answer.
“I would like that very much, Eric. Very much. Would you be comfortable with Tadeas accompanying us? It would mean a lot to him to see you bring joy to his people.”
Not only did she say yes, but she’s asking me what I want? Asking? Who is this person? “It would be an honor.”
“Thank you, Eric. Do you have a set plan yet for your arrival, or would you like to travel with us and the royal guard?”
Eric hesitated. In general he preferred to leave himself an escape route, especially when it came to family, but he took a deep breath and told himself that was no longer how he operated. This was about breaking old habits and replacing them with healthier ones. No drugs. No withdrawing. He was stronger than that. “I’d love to fly over with you and King Tadeas. Tell me where and when to join you, and we’ll make the trip together.”
Something caught in Delinda’s voice. “I’ll do that. Would you like me to text the information to you?”
“You text now?”
“Spencer assures me it’s the way of the world. I don’t understand half the technology he has filled my home with, but I humor him because it seems to make him happy. Everything in my home is now either talking, listening, or attempting to entertain me. To me it’s like an overeager houseguest, but Spencer is convinced I’ll grow to love it.”
“I’ll have to keep Reggie away from Spencer or my house will be the same.”
“You rely on your friend Reggie for quite a bit, don’t you? Are you sure you can trust him with the level of responsibility you’ve put upon him?”
Eric tensed. In the past he would have felt he needed to defend his decisions to her. He wouldn’t have changed her opinion, but the conversation would have been heated and frustrating for both. It was time for that to change as well. Like Sage, it was time to forge his own path. “What I do with my friends and the decisions I make for my household are my business. I would appreciate it if you respect that I don’t want to discuss them.”
Delinda was quiet for a moment before adding, “Of course.” She wasn’t happy, but she didn’t say it. Even that was an improvement.
Hollywood Heir (Westerly Billionaire Book 4) Page 12