Theo loved it.
He was dressed casually, since the rock-climbing wall would be their occupation for the morning. “I thought they were going back to school tomorrow,” he asked Lyssa in an undertone as Logan raced ahead of them.
“He insisted,” she whispered with a shrug. “Maybe because they’re in England.”
“You look great.”
“I’m nervous.”
“About my parents or the bank.”
“Both!” she admitted, then smiled and followed Logan. Theo wished he could reassure her, but he really didn’t know what to expect. His father might just glare at them. His mum would almost certainly ask about the date of the wedding.
But it would be a start.
That girl.
Germaine Tremblay had her doubts about her son’s future. She remembered finding a long blond hair in Theo’s laundry on a Christmas break years before, though nothing had been said. She’d called the owner of the hair that girl in her mind ever since. She’d been surprised that nothing had ever been mentioned about her, but every time someone asked why Theo wasn’t married, Germaine secretly blamed that girl. She guessed that girl had broken her son’s heart. When Theo had stayed in New York this Christmas, she’d been sure it was that girl’s fault, that she was back to meddle in Theo’s life again.
And now that girl had confessed a secret, one fit to give Marcus palpitations.
Theo had a son! And he hadn’t known all these years!
The list of that girl’s unattractive attributes grew a mile with that news. Germaine wanted her son to be happy, but she wondered if it was possible with someone who had kept such a secret from him. It made her heart hurt to think of everything they’d missed, everything Theo had been cheated of sharing. Germaine distrusted Lyssa without even having laid eyes on her.
She wanted to hate that girl.
But that was nothing compared to Marcus’ view. Oh, he was disgruntled and grumpy about the entire situation and Germaine was worried about his heart. He’d been ranting about the sacrifice of tradition and morals and the selfishness of people, the self-absorption of young women and the loose moral code of the beauty business and more. Marcus was more conservative than any man she’d ever known and she knew he’d expect a wedding even more than she did.
But would a wedding make a happy family? Germaine didn’t know, so she worried about that, too.
She hated that she couldn’t guess that girl’s plan—and that Theo wasn’t very forthcoming about his intentions either. She had a sleepless night, watching over Marcus and fretting, and wasted much of the day before the Skype call.
And then Germaine was pleasantly astonished.
That girl was neatly dressed in a dark suit. She looked more like a stockbroker or a lawyer than a cover model. In fact, she and Theo appeared to be an ideal couple. Unlike her, Theo wasn’t wearing a suit, but he never looked casual. That girl was sleekly turned out, but her hair was wavy and a little unruly. It was a nice blend of casual and dressy, one that made her look approachable yet refined. She wore very high heels and pearl earrings and looked like she could have been one of the new members of the royal family.
Her attitude was subdued, as if she was embarrassed to be meeting them and a bit nervous about it. Germaine could understand that. In fact, she was relieved that Lyssa was so aware that she’d made a mistake. Was she worried that it might cost her a chance of a future with Theo? What softened Germaine’s heart was the way that girl looked at Logan. She smiled at him and her eyes shone with love.
And then there was Logan himself. What a handsome child! But then, he would take after his father. Even better, he was confident and polite, both traits which Germaine knew that girl had given him. She could catch glimpses of Theo and Marcus and Naomi in his features, and even that girl and herself. He was bursting with questions and stole Germaine’s heart away immediately. The sparkle in his eyes, the liveliness of his curiosity, the little frown between his brows when he was concentrating, all just combined to make her want to scoop him up and give him a hug. Marcus was watching and listening, but not saying much.
Yet.
“I understand you’re looking for a grandmother,” she said to Logan finally and his eyes lit.
“A grandma loves you forever, no matter what,” he said.
“That’s my understanding as well,” Germaine agreed.
“And Mom says grandmas give the best hugs.”
How curious then that the boy didn’t know her family. Were her parents deceased?
“I think mine are quite good,” she said. “I’ve had some practice with my other grandchildren, although they’re younger than you.” That girl inhaled and her smile got a little tighter. “But we’ll have to meet in person to find out for sure.”
That girl didn’t protest, which was good.
“You’re a grandma already?”
“Yes. Our daughter, Naomi, has a son and a daughter. Nolan and Krista.”
Logan turned to Theo. “So, I have cousins?”
“Lots of relatives you didn’t know about.” Theo said with a nod and counted on his fingers. “Grandpa, Grandma, Aunt Naomi, Uncle Graeme, cousins Nolan and Krista, then there’s my Auntie Teresa.” Germaine was glad they hadn’t concocted some story for Logan as she always thought the truth was best.
“Poof,” Logan said, spreading his hands.
“Poof,” Theo agreed with a smile and that girl even managed a little wary smile.
She must be afraid they’d take him away. If she didn’t have family left, she must be worried about being left alone. Germaine’s chest tightened in sympathy.
Logan turned back to Germaine. “Would we meet here or in England?”
“We’ll have to decide together.”
“I was in London before, with Mom,” he confided. “We used the service elevators to get away from the photographers and then we took a black taxi, and then we went for a curry.”
Germaine smiled. “There are lots of other things to do in London.”
“What about where you live?”
“Well, there’s a big museum...”
“I went to my favorite museum with Theo yesterday,” he said. “I want to go to all the museums and see all the whales.” He turned to grin at Theo. “Even the butterflies.”
“You could make a Skype date with my mum and dad,” Theo suggested. “And talk once a week.” He looked at that girl, who nodded agreement.
“That might be a very good idea,” she said, flicking a glance at Germaine.
Germaine smiled to encourage her.
“That would totally rock!” Logan said. “But it would have to be here at F5, because we don’t have a big television or a computer. We’re going to buy an apartment in New York,” he told Germaine. He turned to his mother. “Are we going to have good Wi-Fi?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Logan eyed Germaine and she braced herself for another question. “Should I call you Grandma?”
“Only if you want to, Logan. You can call me Germaine if you’d rather.”
“I like Grandma better.”
Germaine smiled. “So do I.”
Marcus cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. “You should come and visit us next summer,” he said and Germaine placed her hand over his, glad that he’d spoken up. “I’m going to be retiring and there will be a party.”
“With cake?” Logan asked.
“Almost certainly,” Germaine said. “Ice cream, too.”
He looked at his mom, who smiled. “That sounds like a nice plan. Let’s see what we can do.”
Logan smiled before turning back to Germaine. “I’d like to come.” He paused for a minute. “Grandma.”
Germaine clutched Marcus’ hand. “Well, then, we’ll have to try to make it happen, Logan. Until then, we can talk.”
His features lit with pleasure. “Okay! Bye, Grandma.” He eyed Marcus. “And no fisticuffs from me. Theo said you don’t approve.”
&nb
sp; Marcus choked a little in his surprise and Theo tried to hide his smile. He met his mom’s gaze for a moment and she glimpsed the hope in his eyes.
Yes, it would take time to sort this out, but Germaine had a newfound confidence that they would.
“Bye!” Logan said, then he blew kisses at the screen. Germaine blew one back before the image disappeared.
“Hmph.” Marcus said. “He didn’t call me Grandpa.”
“Well, why would he when you just sat and glowered at him?” Germaine asked. “You can talk to the boy.”
“I guess I will on our next call.” He shook his head. “Fisticuffs. That I should be remembered for one word.”
“See? You’re an influence already.”
“I hope he’s not a fighter.” Marcus got to his feet. “Thank you for being better at this than me, Germaine.”
“They look more like a couple than I expected,” she admitted.
Marcus nodded. “I wonder if they realize how much in love they both are.”
“I think Theo does.”
“Well, he was always one to make a choice and stick with it.”
“He came by that honestly.”
Marcus smiled. “But she loves our boy. She’s just afraid of that. I wonder why.”
“If Logan is her world, it’s only reasonable that she might be afraid of the implications of sharing him. But this is a start.”
“A bit late to be starting in my view.”
“Well, Theo also came honestly by patience and understanding,” Germaine concluded and gave Marcus a kiss. “We might have a wedding yet. Would you like a cup of tea?”
Thirteen
One down, two to go.
Lyssa was relieved that the call had gone well. Simon and his dad had arrived to climb the rock wall with Theo and Theo had hailed a cab for her. He’d wished her luck and she’d almost had the sense that they were a team.
He made it easy to rely upon him, and she knew he’d smoothed the way with his parents. Logan had agreed that they should have the pictures and she’d suggested that the two of them put a smaller collection in an album.
Next, the bank.
Lyssa was more than ready to be a retired woman on Monday afternoon. She felt as if she was on the cusp of a new and wonderful adventure.
One that included having Theo in her life.
“I’m delighted that you’re here today, Ms. Monroe,” Mr. Sinclair said as he guided her to his office. The office was on an upper floor of the building, where the private banking accounts were managed. On the ground floor were the tellers and the vault, of course, but this floor was much more elegantly furnished. Mahogany gleamed. Original art hung on the walls. The carpeting was thick underfoot. All the people working on this floor were dressed conservatively, both men and women in dark suits. There was a hush of prosperity. Lyssa was glad she’d dressed for the appointment and smiled greetings to other employees as she followed Mr. Sinclair. He was older than her, almost paternal, and settled his reading glasses on his nose after he’d ushered her into a seat and closed the door of his office behind them. The room was flooded with sunlight from the large window.
Her stomach was churning with uncertainty, but she told herself she was just nervous about spending so much money at once.
Mr. Sinclair smiled. “How can I be of help today, Ms. Monroe?”
“I thought it would be a good idea to ensure everything was in order before making an offer on an apartment.”
“Here in the city?”
“On the Upper West Side. There are several I like, all around four million dollars.” She tried to say the number casually and hoped she succeeded.
Mr. Sinclair nodded. “Two bedrooms, park view?” he asked, obviously knowing the market.
Lyssa smiled. “That’s right. I love the park.”
He nodded, and called up her account on his computer screen, frowned, then spread several documents across his desk. “Are you looking to arrange some financing?”
Lyssa blinked. “I thought the funds in the main account would be sufficient...”
“Well, they might have been, if your expenses hadn’t increased so dramatically this past year. Certainly, you were making more deposits.”
“My expenses haven’t gone up,” Lyssa said.
What expenses?
“Perhaps a little review would be in order,” Mr. Sinclair said, tapping up a display on his screen. “As you can see, your monthly withdrawals increased significantly about a year ago...”
“No,” Lyssa whispered. “No, they didn’t.” She pointed to the screen, explaining the various expenses which were ongoing, including Logan’s school and her travel budget, then indicated two withdrawals that she knew nothing about. They were large round numbers.
“To be sure, I was surprised,” Mr. Sinclair said. “Your account shows a pattern of frugality and regular investment, but these withdrawals made it impossible to add to your term deposits as scheduled. I had a message from your manager, though, reassuring me that you had additional expenses because of increased travel and some new obligations with your son. He assured me that these withdrawals would be the new norm, and as you can see, they have been.”
There was no air in the office as far as Lyssa was concerned. “May I see the message, please?” Her voice didn’t sound like her own and Mr. Sinclair noticed.
He stared at her. “Are you implying, Ms. Monroe, that these payments were not authorized by you?”
Lyssa read the letter from Justin to the bank and felt sick. “They were not. I gave him signing authority on my account a year ago because I was traveling so much and I wanted to ensure that bills were paid on time.”
“I see.” Mr. Sinclair frowned. “And what about the house in the Caymans? That simultaneously with a park-view apartment in Manhattan almost would stretch many clients thin, Ms. Monroe.”
Lyssa straightened. “What house?”
The house.
The house in the email. She knew it in her heart.
Mercedes and Justin were buying a house—with her money.
And they’d already taken a lot of her money.
Mr. Sinclair cleared his throat. “This pending transfer came in during the holidays, and was not processed then. The changes in your passwords the other night made me wonder if something was amiss. I put a hold on the transfer until our meeting today.”
“There should be no pending transfer,” she said, her heart in her throat. “I didn’t buy a house in the Caymans. And I didn’t authorize these biweekly withdrawals either.”
Mr. Sinclair met her gaze over the rim of his glasses. He spoke cautiously. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten some detail over the holidays?” he suggested, although she could hear the skepticism in his voice.
“I’m not buying a house in the Caymans.”
“Well, somebody is, Ms. Monroe, on your behalf. Mr. Young does have the authorization to access your funds.”
And Mercedes had known about it months before.
On the upside, Lyssa now had an excellent reason to fire them both.
Thanks to Mr. Sinclair, all of the money wasn’t gone yet.
“I know nothing about these transactions or this house,” she said again, feeling a cold knot in her gut as she handed them back to Mr. Sinclair. “And I’m certainly not buying any property beyond an apartment on the Upper West Side.”
“Would you like to discuss this matter with Mr. Young?”
“No,” Lyssa said firmly. “I would like to have Mr. Young removed as a signing authority on my accounts. If it is possible to generate a report of all activity on the account in the past year, that would be very helpful.”
Mr. Sinclair’s gaze clung to hers. “I see. Beginning with these biweekly withdrawals?”
“Yes.”
“I should warn you that they did become larger, Ms. Monroe. That’s a common pattern that we see with fraud. When the fraud isn’t challenged or detected, the thief becomes more bold.”
Lyssa gripped her p
urse, feeling that she needed to hang on to something solid. “How much is gone?” she asked.
Mr. Sinclair scrolled through the display to the bottom. “This is your balance today, which will remain the same if that transfer is denied.”
It wasn’t enough.
The money was gone, and even if it could be retrieved from Justin, the apartment that Logan wanted would be sold. He was just a boy, but he never asked for anything and Lyssa had been so determined to make this one dream come true for him.
Her throat was tight and she was aware of how keenly the banker was watching her. “Can we decline to make the transfer?” Lyssa asked.
“Of course.” Mr. Sinclair typed on his computer, his manner becoming more intense. “And I can start our fraud team investigating whether anything can be done about the other payments. It would be much simpler if Mr. Young surrendered the funds himself.”
“No doubt.”
“This will take a little time, Ms. Monroe. Would you like my secretary to get you a coffee?”
“That would be lovely. Thank you, Mr. Sinclair.” Lyssa leaned forward. “How soon will Mr. Young know that the transfer for the house has been denied?”
Mr. Sinclair fell silent and eyed her. “Today is not a statutory holiday. All financial institutions are open, although they may have a backlog from the holidays to process. I would estimate that Mr. Young will know within twenty-four hours. It will depend upon how close a tie he has with others involved, like anyone at the receiving institution.”
Lyssa nodded understanding. “Can you leave them on hold a little longer, then decline them on Monday?”
“Of course. I am at your service in this matter, Ms. Monroe.”
“Thank you. I have a lot to accomplish before I speak to Justin on Monday,” she said with a smile. “I’ll be terminating his employment then.”
“That appears to be a wise decision, Ms. Monroe.” While Mr. Sinclair completed his forms, Lyssa pulled out a notepad and made a list of all the things she had to do.
Her first instinct was to run, but this time, she fought against it. Her urge was to withdraw the remaining money, buy two plane tickets to Tuscany, scoop up Logan and take refuge with Franco and Giancarlo for the duration. But that wouldn’t be fair to anyone involved. She couldn’t disappear on Theo, much less take Logan away.
Bad Case of Loving You Page 25