She turned away and wiped hurriedly at her eyes; she hadn’t realized she’d been crying. Damn it, she needed to be stronger than that. And smarter. She needed to be way smarter. Will Connelly was Emily’s biological father, and he had money enough to make sure he got whatever rights he wanted based on that. It was stupid to antagonize him, no matter how arrogant and controlling he was.
She needed to apologize. She needed to crawl, if that was what he wanted to see. She knew that, but instead she grabbed the coffeepot and headed toward the customers, who were now pretending they hadn’t heard a thing. “Anyone need a top-up?” she asked, her voice desperately, emptily cheerful.
And when she was done fussing with the coffee and turned back toward the counter, Will was gone.
…
“You called her life a disaster?” Trevor asked with a disapproving shake of his head. He was sitting in the leather wingback chair by the fireplace in Will’s apartment. It was the chair Will usually sat in himself, and he wondered whether his friend had taken it deliberately.
“You know better,” Beckett vanDorn said from his spot on the couch.
“And you’re usually pretty smooth,” Silas Grant added, pulling the label off a fresh bottle of Glenfiddich. “Has instant fatherhood got you that shaken up, or is there something else going on?”
Will wanted to bury his head under the pillows, or maybe punch something. These were his oldest friends, the guys he’d gone to school with and stayed close to ever since. When he’d come back into town and said he had something important to talk about, they’d all dropped their Friday night plans and shown up without complaint. Well, Trevor hadn’t had any plans, since he’d just come back to town the night before himself, and since all he ever seemed to do was work. But he’d given up some valuable Friday night work time to come be part of the team. These men knew Will better than anyone else in the world did, and they were completely happy to use that knowledge to ask him the tough questions.
Which he didn’t really want to answer. “It’s partly the fatherhood thing throwing me off,” he said, trying to avoid the other half of the answer. He’d already shown the guys Emily’s picture, done a bit of bragging about her, and been soundly and genuinely congratulated. But once they’d started talking about the more serious parts of the situation, their honesty had become pointed.
“You’re screwing this up,” Trevor said now. “You really need to see things from Cassidy’s perspective. Mother bear, remember? And she let you—I don’t know, she let you pull a thorn out of her paw. It wasn’t easy for her to trust you with that, but she did. Now you’ve caught her and put her in a zoo for her own protection, and you’re expecting her to be grateful?”
“Put her in a zoo? What the hell are you talking about? She’s still roaming in the damn forest. All I did was pay to get some hunters off her back. And I want to… I don’t know; this analogy is kind of falling apart, but maybe I want to set up a game preserve for my cub? Does that make sense, without sounding like I’m totally into bestiality?”
“Did you catch the use of the word ‘game’?” Trevor asked. “Game is wildlife that’s valued as something for humans to hunt, not for its own sake.”
“You’re playing with semantics. You know what I meant. Call it a fucking national park and focus on the real issues.”
Trevor grinned and leaned back in his chair. He lived for this sort of thing, watching his friends’ lives and making comments that were wise and insightful just often enough to make up for the times they were offered only for his own amusement. The problem was figuring out which type of comment he was giving at any given time. “You hurt her pride,” he said, and it felt real enough that Will made himself keep listening. “We’ve already been through this, haven’t we? Her independence, her pride, and her niece. That’s all she’s got, and from where she’s sitting, you’re trying to take all three of them away from her.” He shook his head. “Seriously, would it have killed you to hold off on the hospital bills for a few weeks, until she was more comfortable?”
“Until she was more broke.” Will held his glass out for Silas to refill. “You’ve seen how serious the financial situation was, and I’ve seen how stressful that was for her. I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.”
“What would you have done if she were a man?” Beckett asked.
Short and to the point. Typical Beckett. Will made himself think about the answer. “I don’t think I would have paid the bill,” he finally admitted.
“Because?” Silas prompted as he sank into the sofa at the far end from Beckett.
“I don’t know.” Will was pretty sure that was true. “I guess it would have felt—paternalistic? Demeaning? Like—damn it, if she’d been a man, I would have been aware of the importance of her pride and independence, and I would have respected it more.” He threw a glare in Trevor’s direction. “Is that what you wanted to hear, you smug bastard?”
Trevor just grinned and took a sip of his scotch.
“Yeah, okay, but back to the current problem,” Will prompted. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this woman?”
Trevor’s smile turned wicked. “What do you want to do with her?”
No, Will wasn’t going to let his mind wander in that direction. At least, not when he had three friends staring at him, hoping to see a reaction. “I want to help her help herself,” he said, possibly a little primly.
“Nope,” Beckett said.
“Wrong answer,” Silas agreed.
And Trevor, like a genial game show host, smiled and said, “Would you like to try again?” His expression softened a little as he added, “You’re among friends, Will.”
Will sighed and tossed his head back against the cushions of his chair. “I don’t know. I want her to help me with Emily. Absolutely. I’m sure about that, and I think she’s essential. You guys are right. I screwed up by pushing too hard, and I’ll figure out a way to make that better.” He stopped talking, hoping his confession would be enough to get him off the hook, but he should have known better.
“What else do you want from her?” Silas prodded.
“I’ve read articles,” Will said, mostly to his ceiling. “I’ve learned that men express their emotions physically. They do not value long, abstract conversations about feelings or other feminine topics. That’s what I’ve read.”
“Do we have a picture of her?” Silas asked, and Will watched as Trevor pulled out his phone and passed it around. It shouldn’t have made Will anxious, or defensive, or…jealous?
“Not flashy,” Silas said when he’d seen the picture.
“That’s what you’re looking for?” Will demanded. He knew he was walking into a trap but couldn’t seem to help himself. “Flashy? Seriously? Since when have we valued flash over substance?”
“And she’s got substance?” Trevor asked, even though he should know better than any of them how substantial Cassidy was. He was the one who’d done the research that gave Will most of his facts on the woman, since of course Cassidy wouldn’t share them herself.
“She was seventeen when Em was born. Didn’t go away to school because she stayed home to help raise her sister’s kid. Works her ass off at a stupid restaurant that no one in town even appreciates, still manages to make Emily feel safe and wanted, and is willing to fight me for the privilege of maintaining that lifestyle, even though it would be easier for her to just walk away and start over? Hell, yeah, she’s got substance.”
It probably wasn’t the words, he figured. Or at least, not just the words. There was something in the way he’d felt as he said them, something that had clearly transmitted to his friends, who now sat watching him expectantly.
“So you’ve spoken to Victoria?” Silas prompted.
Will sighed. Yeah, they’d heard him. “She said she was busy tonight. I’m having lunch with her tomorrow, before I leave.”
His friends didn’t say anything, but he knew they approved. They’d never really warmed to Victoria, or she to them, b
ut they’d still expect him to treat her fairly. If his attention had been drawn elsewhere, no matter how futile his new interest might be, he owed Victoria the courtesy of a formal breakup.
He wasn’t doing it because he thought anything was going to develop with Cassidy, but having spent time with her made him realize how little he wanted to spend time with Victoria. For all Cassidy’s anger, there was something real about her, something honest that she didn’t seem to be able to hide even when she tried. Victoria? Will had known her for years, dated her off-and-on for most of that time, and still didn’t feel like he’d ever seen her true self.
“I’m not saying I wasn’t right to be mad at Cassidy,” he clarified, trying to get the conversation back on the topic he’d hoped to get resolved. “It was her sister who kept me from knowing about Emily, so she’s got no right to act like I’m a deadbeat dad. And I’m not going to pretend it’s not better to have money than to not have money. Yeah, Cassidy did the best she could, and the best she could was really, really good. But they had to sell Emily’s horse to pay the bills. A thirteen-year-old-girl and her horse? That’s a sacred bond, isn’t it? You can’t tell me Em’s life wouldn’t have been better if there’d been a bit more money.”
His friends sat quietly and sipped their scotch. They were getting a bit too good at being neutral.
“Okay,” Will admitted. “I said it wrong, or maybe shouldn’t have said it at all. But seriously, this whole thing started because I dropped six figures to pay off a hospital bill for the mother of my child. Why am I getting shit for helping someone out? Maybe I wouldn’t have done it if Cassidy was a man, but maybe that would have been the mistake. Letting someone else’s pride get in the way of helping them out? Maybe it wasn’t sexist to have helped a woman; maybe it would have been sexist to have not helped a man.”
“Is that the approach you’re going to take with her when you talk this through?” Trevor asked, back to being amused. “Because if it is, I’d like to be there for the show.”
“Oh, you’re going to be there,” Will assured him. “Not for this part, but I want you to be the one who goes over all the paperwork with Cassidy and Emily. The trust fund and insurance and whatever. And I think I want you to present the ideas from the panel this afternoon, too. That list of the best schools, and all the different features for each one. You think you’ve got the great insight into how Cassidy is thinking? Fine. You need to use it to make her understand that I’m not the enemy, and I want the best for Emily. Okay? You can do that?”
Trevor sighed. “I could probably do it a lot more easily if you’d stop interfering. But I have the feeling that’s not likely to happen. Is it?”
“It’s not interfering to be involved in my daughter’s life.”
“And your involvement with the aunt’s life? That’s essential, somehow?”
The argument was clear. Will could say that of course it was essential, because Emily was under Cassidy’s influence, and therefore Cassidy needed to be under his. But the truth was a bit more complicated. “You focus on the financial side of things. The facts. I’ll—I don’t know. I’ll try to get her to trust me.”
“I think I’ve got the easier job,” Trevor said. Then he raised his glass. “But good luck to you. Nothing worth having comes easy, right?”
Chapter Nine
Saturdays and Sundays the diner opened for brunch rather than breakfast, so they were Cassidy’s days to sleep in, if waking up at seven thirty counted as sleeping in. That Saturday she rolled over, stretched out in sheets softer than any she’d ever imagined could exist, and took a moment to feel like a princess.
This could be what Emily would have for the rest of her life, she realized, and it was a thought that made her swing her feet out of bed in a burst of restless energy. Emily could have this, and would have this. Emily’s life had changed forever the moment Cassidy hit “send” on that stupid email. No, not stupid. Because this was better for Emily. It was just Cassidy who was being left behind.
But not yet, she reminded herself as she shuffled into the kitchen and found Emily already there, drinking the freshly squeezed juice that had become a favorite. “I made pear-mango-raspberry, with a bit of honey,” she announced. “I think it’s the best combo yet. Want me to make you one?”
The smart answer was no. It didn’t make sense to get used to things she wouldn’t be able to afford once she was out of the Will Connelly bubble. But she nodded anyway and perched on one of the stools at the kitchen island while Emily bustled around, happily tossing ripe fruit into the juicer. Cassidy watched and tried to calculate how much her glass of juice was going to cost. Not just the fresh fruit, at the peak of ripeness and almost certainly organic and whatever else rich people wanted in their food, but the top of the line juicer, the tall glass it was going to be poured into, a glass that looked too effortlessly refined and simple to be anything but expensive… It truly was another world.
Emily finished her task, tossed a couple of fresh raspberries into the glass for garnish, and handed it to Cassidy with a flourish. Emily often made breakfast for Cassidy on weekends, so it was stupid to feel as if this was symbolic, somehow. Stupid to think of this as just one of many little treats the girl would be able to bestow upon her poor, ignorant aunt in the future.
Cassidy took a deep swallow of the juice and pushed to her feet. She needed to get out of her head, and out of this kitchen. “Do you have plans for today? You coming to the diner with me, or hanging out here?”
She knew the answer even before Emily’s slightly guilty smile. “Is it okay if I stay here? I haven’t really explored much yet, and Becky and Riva want to come over and hang out. Becky’s mom said she could drive. Do you need me at the diner?”
“No, I can get by. You have fun.” Another quick swallow of the juice. It was tempting to take the glass with her to the shower, but what if she knocked it over or something? She took another big gulp, then set the glass down, an inch of juice remaining. That inch probably cost more than whatever Cassidy would end up having for lunch. “I’ll see you tonight.”
She was almost out of the room when Emily’s voice stopped her. “You’re okay, right?” the girl asked, and Cassidy turned around slowly.
“What do you mean? I’m fine.”
“You’re not really happy, though, are you? About Will. About living here.”
“It’s not about being happy,” Cassidy tried. She was pretty sure she was being honest, although possibly with a limited perspective. “I’m not totally comfortable here, no. I mean, at your age, you’re having sleepovers all the time, hanging out at your friends’ houses, all kinds of visiting. But it’s been quite a while since I’ve slept anywhere but my own bed, or made food in someone else’s kitchen. It’s just an adjustment.”
“So you’re not sad about Will? You’re not worried about him taking me away or anything? Because he told me he’s going to make this work for all three of us. That’s his top priority, he said.”
Cassidy managed a smile. The words were apparently comforting to Emily, even if they made Cassidy want to run away screaming. Will thought it was his responsibility to take care of everything? He was going to make things work? What the hell did that mean? “Everything’s fine,” she told Emily. “You have fun today. But if you can help me do prep tomorrow afternoon, that’d be good.”
“Sunday afternoon prep,” Emily agreed. “Can’t mess with tradition.”
A hell of a lot more than tradition is about to be messed with, Cassidy thought as she headed for the luxurious bathroom attached to her bedroom. She might as well enjoy the calm while it lasted.
…
Will was up early Saturday morning for a breakfast meeting with a few stakeholders in the Achterberg deal. Funny how important all of that had seemed only a week or so ago. His interest in it had faded almost entirely away, now, but he went through the motions, made sure everything was on track, and then had a quick meeting with the wills and estates specialist at Trevor’s law firm. He
’d made his wishes clear over the phone, so there wasn’t much to do but read things over, ask a few questions, and sign.
Then, lunch with Victoria at her favorite restaurant in Midtown. The breakup went as smoothly as he’d known it would; Victoria would never make a scene in public, but she also genuinely didn’t seem to care that much. Her cool remoteness had always been an asset—she’d been a partner more than a lover, and dissolving a partnership didn’t have to be an emotional event.
He and Victoria had been a good pair. Both of them calm, controlled, and focused on their goals. Now Will was giving up on all that, diving into a world of emotional chaos. Had he lost his mind?
Then he thought of Emily. Thought of Cassidy. And he knew he’d made the right decision.
He had a few other errands to run that afternoon, so it was already dark by the time he got back to Lyonstown and pulled into his spot across the street from the diner. The closed sign was on the door, and the lights were dimmed, but he could see Cassidy inside, running a mop over the floor.
This was her Saturday night, and she was mopping the floor after a long day on her feet. He watched her stop and lean on the mop handle for a moment, then start moving again. She was running on determination alone.
Any anger he’d still felt toward her was gone as he crossed the quiet street, then rapped on the glass door with his knuckles. She looked up, startled, and he saw her schooling her expression into whatever it was she’d decided she wanted to show him. Cautious resentment, apparently.
She unlocked the door, at least, and as he pulled it open he said, “I’m sorry,” before she had a chance to start with anything less peaceful. “I absolutely should have asked you before I messed around in your business. My intentions were good, but my execution was rotten. I apologize.”
The Billionaire's Forever Family Page 7