Fool Me Once

by Fern Michaels

  Olivia picked at the peach cobbler on her plate. Where was Jeff? Why hadn’t he called her? Was he stuck out on the highway somewhere? She pushed her plate away just as the front doorbell rang. The dogs ran as fast as she did. The moment she opened the door and Jeff stepped inside, she threw herself into his arms. The dogs clamored for their share of attention.

  “I couldn’t call you—my cell battery died on the way here. I’m starved, honey. Do you have anything to eat?”

  Olivia laughed as she helped Jeff off with his coat. “I made dinner, but it’s kind of dried out. If you use a lot of gravy, it’ll work. I even made dessert. How bad is it out there?”

  Jeff grinned from ear to ear. “Bad enough that I won’t be able to get to the office tomorrow. That’s why I wanted to make it out here. I think the government will shut down in the morning, so that means our office will be closed, too. It took me four hours to get out here. Half the time I couldn’t see. I pretty much just followed the taillights in front of me.”

  Olivia beamed her pleasure as she dug into her peach cobbler while Jeff ate his dinner with gusto.

  “This is really good, Olivia. I can’t remember when I had stuffed pork chops last. My mother makes a casserole a little bit like this. I think I like this one better because I love garlic. I think I’m going to love being married to you if you promise to cook like this every night. I suspect we’ll both have to sign up at the closest gym, though.”

  Olivia beamed at the compliment. Guys never told girls they cooked better than their mothers.

  “Tell me, what kind of day did you have?” he asked her between bites.

  Olivia told him and concluded, “I don’t think it’s my imagination, Jeff, I think Mr. Spencer knows something his wife didn’t want him to tell me. If he doesn’t know it for certain, he suspects something. I was going to call him back, but I don’t want to upset him. The poor man doesn’t have a dog in this fight, so why pester him?

  “Tomorrow, I’m going to call Adrian Ames’s attorney, make an appointment, and go on from there. I want this over and done with so I can get back to work.”

  Olivia poured more wine into Jeff’s glass. “Good Lord, I forgot to tell you that Lea called me this afternoon. It was awful. To think I used to like that woman. Money has a way of changing everything for everyone. It’s like people who win the lottery. All of a sudden they have all these new friends who want some of the jackpot. I have to decide what I’m going to do with her estate. Something good has to come out of all of this. I just don’t know what it is. Right now, my brain feels freeze-dried.

  “I want to pay back the money to the insurance company. That’s a given. I’m pretty sure Mr. O’Brien can handle that part of it. Once that’s done, I have to deal with the rest of the estate, and the payback is barely going to make a dent as far as the rest of the estate goes. I have a couple of ideas floating around inside my head, but I’m afraid to act on them because there’s something I’m missing. When I sign off on this, I want to be satisfied that I’ve done everything right to the best of my ability. Right now, I am not satisfied.

  “By any chance, Jeff, do you see anything I’m not seeing? Do you have any ideas or suggestions?”

  Jeff shook his head as he yawned elaborately. “I’m sorry, Olivia, I don’t. O’Brien is an excellent attorney. His firm is top-notch. Work with them, and I’m sure everything will be resolved to your satisfaction.”

  Olivia shrugged as she set about clearing off the table. When he tried to help she shooed Jeff and the dogs into the great room. “Add some logs to the fire, okay?”

  Carrying two glasses of wine, Olivia turned off the kitchen light on her way to the great room. The dogs looked up at her, their tails swishing from side to side, as she took in the situation. Jeff was sound asleep on the couch. She covered him up before she settled herself with the dogs on mounds of pillows by the hearth. So much for romance.

  Five days later, Olivia strode down the hall to Prentice O’Brien’s office. They made small talk about the abominable weather and canceled appointments in general before they settled down to business.

  Olivia tugged at the skirt of her cranberry-colored suit. She opened her purse and withdrew the personal letter Allison Matthews had written to her. She watched the attorney as he read the letter. O’Brien’s expression was totally blank when he raised his gaze to meet her own.

  “Did you know any of that, Mr. O’Brien?”

  “No, Ms. Lowell. I was your mother’s attorney, not her confidant. I only met her in person twice. All our business was conducted over the phone or by fax. Now, what is it you want me to do?”

  “I want you to find a way to pay back either the bank or the Great Rock Insurance Company of Mississippi without them knowing where the money came from. All of the money is to come from Adrian Ames’s estate. I know the case has been closed as well as written off after forty years, but that doesn’t change anything. It’s the right thing to do, and I want you to do it. You transferred two million dollars into an account. I’ve withdrawn two hundred and twenty-five thousand. Here’s the checkbook,” Olivia said, handing it over. “Do you just want one check or the whole book?”

  The attorney steepled his fingers against his nose as he stared at Olivia across his desk. “One check will do it. I can deposit the required amount into one of our escrow accounts. I don’t anticipate a problem. Is there anything else you want me to do?”

  “I’m working on it, Mr. O’Brien. How long will probate take?”

  “You have plenty of time to make decisions, Ms. Lowell. Six to ten months, possibly sooner. I might be able to expedite things if you’re in a hurry.”

  “I want it all to be settled as quickly as possible. I’m…working…What I mean is, I’m toying with several ideas, but nothing is concrete yet. You could start the paperwork on setting up several trusts. One is for Gwen’s son, Timothy, and his three children; the other is for Jill’s daughter and her children.” Olivia reached into her purse again to withdraw a sheaf of papers. “I think you’ll be able to locate both of them with the information I wrote down. I’m sorry it’s not more conclusive, but it was the best I could do.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Ms. Lowell. What about a trust for any children you might bear in the future? I urge you to do this. Children, as they grow up, want to know about their grandparents. I see the doubt on your face, and I understand your feelings, but, as you said a minute ago, it’s the right thing to do. You can decide on an amount for the trusts and let me know at your own convenience. Eighteen years from now, college tuition rates will have quadrupled.”

  Olivia licked her dry lips. Everything the attorney was saying made sense. She knew Jeff would be agreeable. A trust set up for unborn children didn’t mean she herself would be spending the tarnished money. She licked her lips again. “All right. I’ll discuss it with my fiancé and get back to you.”

  “Have you given any thought to the houses and other properties? What about the boat your mother wanted you to purchase for your father?”

  Instead of licking her lips, Olivia nibbled on the inside of her cheek. “Well…I haven’t totally ruled that out, but I have to get back to you on that, too. I’m having a real hard time with all of this, Mr. O’Brien. I feel like I’m being torn in all directions. I didn’t ask for this.”

  Prentice O’Brien leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been a lawyer for a long time, Ms. Lowell. Some days I think I’ve seen and heard it all. One day, I think I might write a book. Then I tell myself no one would believe half of it. I say this because I want you to let go of all the hatred you’re feeling toward your mother. I know you don’t like me to use that word, but Adrian Ames was your mother. It is not written in stone that you have to love your mother. You don’t. What you do have to do is let go of the hatred. If you don’t, it will ruin your life. You need to think of this as a bump in the road that you have to cross over to reach your destination.

  “I see that ring on your finger. It wasn’t there whe
n we spoke last. You’re starting off on a new road now, so don’t put speed bumps in the way. Like I said, I’ve seen families torn apart, relationships ruined in situations like this. I don’t want to see you as a casualty of your own making.

  “I was your mother’s attorney for almost thirty years, and I didn’t come to know her or understand her any better after all that time than I did at our first meeting. I doubt if anyone knew or understood Adrian Ames. Maybe her corporate attorneys understood her, but I don’t see why they would. Maybe those two friends from her college days understood her, but I seriously doubt it.”

  Olivia clenched and unclenched her fists. Her voice was soft, almost gentle when she said, “She didn’t want me. She referred to me as it. I think I have a right to feel as I do, Mr. O’Brien.”

  “Of course you do, but you have to let it go so you can move on and not be hampered by your mother’s baggage. Think about it, Ms. Lowell. What exactly has changed in your life since we first spoke? Nothing, except you are suddenly a very rich woman. Everything you did or didn’t do, you did willingly. No one forced you to do anything. You want to do the right thing, the decent thing, and setting up those trust funds proves what I just said. I think you should feel proud of how your father raised you. You’re an honorable person, Ms. Lowell. Don’t throw all of that away. If you don’t take anything else away from this meeting, I want you to take this with you. In the end, your mother wanted to make it right.”

  Olivia bristled. “Then why didn’t she do it herself? Why have me do it?”

  The attorney seemed to be struggling for words. “This is just a guess on my part. I think she wanted you to know what kind of person she was. If she had done it herself, you never would have known. There would have been no point in a confession on her part. Hey, I robbed a bank when I was in college—that kind of thing. No, that wasn’t Adrian Ames. You can run with this in a hundred different directions. Don’t do it. Move on, and don’t look back. That’s the best advice I can give you.”

  Olivia stood up, her camel-colored coat on her arm. She nodded and held out her hand. The attorney shook it before he walked her to the door. She was startled when he placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder. “It’s all going to work out, Ms. Lowell.”

  “I hope so,” Olivia mumbled.

  Olivia sat in her car in the parking lot for a long time. She stared into space, going over and over in her mind what the attorney had said to her. When she finally turned the key in the ignition and drove off, she was clear in her mind that everything Prentice O’Brien said to her was sterling.

  But knowing that and acting upon O’Brien’s sage advice were two different things.

  Days and weeks flew by, and before Olivia knew it, spring arrived, dressed in every color of the rainbow against a backdrop of green.

  Life was routine, so routine, in fact, that Olivia found herself almost bored. She worked steadily but counted the hours until Jeff would arrive nightly.

  She finished up for the day, waved good-bye to a poodle named Tiffany and her owner, whose name was also Tiffany, popped open a bottle of cola, and settled back with feet on an ottoman. Her gaze settled on the calendar across the room. It was hard to believe that in another week she’d be turning the page to May. Then the first weekend of the month it would be the Apple Blossom Festival. She looked forward to taking Jeff to the festival.

  Would her father come for the festival? He’d never missed one yet. How sad that she’d only heard from him once since he’d asked her to take out the home equity loan on the house. She hadn’t heard another word from Lea, either. The March and April mortgage payments had arrived right on time, however. Maybe Dennis was waiting for her to call him. What good was calling someone who never answered the phone?

  Olivia was on her way to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She almost beat the dogs to the door. She laughed, signed her name for the DHL envelope, and carried it with her to the kitchen. The return address said the thick, heavy package was from Prentice O’Brien. She dropped it on the kitchen table, and her heart picked up an extra beat as she moved about the room. With the arrival of the package, everything was suddenly front and center again.

  She fixed a cup of black rum tea to fortify herself before opening the package that glared up at her from the table. She stared at it for a while as she sipped her tea. Finally, she ripped at the tab and removed draft documents of the trust agreements. The enclosed letter said she was to read through the documents and get back to O’Brien.

  She riffled through the pages. The contents could have been in a foreign language for all she understood. What she did understand was the numbers page that spelled out that all of Gwen’s grandchildren’s college expenses would be taken care of when it was time for them to go to college. Her son, Timothy, would receive $2000 a month for the rest of his life, while each child would receive $500 a month until he or she reached the age of thirty-five. Cost-of-living increases would be factored in yearly.

  Jill’s daughter’s trust was basically the same in regard to the text, but the numbers were different. Since there were only two children, all college expenses would be paid, and each child would receive $750 a month until the age of thirty-five. Jill’s daughter, Mary Louise, would receive $3500 a month for the rest of her life.

  The trust booklet for her own unborn children was much thinner, the numbers similar. All college expenses would be paid in full; each child would receive $500 a month until the age of thirty-five. There was no provision for herself.

  Everything was in order. All she had to do was sign it, and before long, the trusts would be active.

  Olivia reached for the thin, bright red folder and opened it. A single sheet of paper announced that the annual meeting of the board of directors of Adrian’s Treasures was scheduled for May 15, a little more than two weeks away. As Adrian Ames’s sole heir, she was expected to conduct the meeting. Olivia could feel her eyes start to bulge. No, no, this was all wrong. She wasn’t taking control of Adrian’s business. No way was she going to the company’s headquarters in Baltimore to preside over the annual meeting.

  Her back ramrod-straight, her eyes sparking dangerously, Olivia dialed the attorney’s private number. She hated it that she was trembling. She didn’t bother with amenities when she heard his voice. She went right into her spiel. “No, I am not going to that board meeting. I told you, I don’t want any part of Adrian Ames’s estate or her business. What do you mean, I have to go? No, no I don’t. Obviously, the company is, and has been, doing very well without Adrian at the helm. That has to mean there are some pretty competent people operating the company. Things can continue that way until all the business decisions are made.”

  Olivia closed her eyes as she listened to the attorney’s words. “And who do you think is going to be making all those decisions? Adrian’s Treasures has a great many people on its payroll. Those people have families and depend on the company for their salaries and their medical benefits. They want assurances that their livelihood will not change. I’m told morale is not the greatest at the moment. It’s been months since Ms. Ames died. Seeing you presiding over the meeting, telling them things will continue, that their jobs are secure, is crucial. It won’t take more than ten minutes of your time. Surely you can see your way clear to attending the meeting.”

  Olivia’s shoulders slumped. “Since you put it like that, I guess I don’t have any other choice. All right, I’ll go. This has to be the end of it, though.”

  “Ms. Lowell, it isn’t that simple. In fact, it’s very complicated. I told you that more than once. The firm is working very hard on all matters. As I said, it’s extremely complicated. The tax issue alone is mind-boggling. Now, tell me, do the trust documents meet with your approval?”

  Olivia drummed her fingers on the countertop. “I didn’t read them line for line, if that’s what you mean. The numbers meet with my approval. How long will it take before you can start sending money to Gwen and Jill’s children?”

  “Six week
s, give or take a few weeks either side of it. Do you want me to send out letters ahead of time to apprise them of your intent?”

  “No, not yet. I need to come up with something, some story that won’t alert them to their mothers’…past history. They don’t need that kind of grief. Is there anything else, Mr. O’Brien?”

  “No, that covers everything for the moment. It’s definite, then, that you will attend the meeting in Baltimore.”

  “Yes, Mr. O’Brien, I will attend the meeting.”

  Olivia sat down at the table. Her tea was cold, but she drank it anyway. Like it or not, good intentions or bad intentions, she was being sucked into Adrian Ames’s world.

  And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

  Chapter 22

  Olivia stared at her reflection in the mirror hanging on the bathroom door. She should have bought a new suit. Or at least had the one she was wearing cleaned again, even though it came out of a plastic bag. Well, it would have to do. She continued to study herself with critical interest. The suit was tailored like any other business suit, charcoal gray, and she wore a crisp white blouse with it. No jewelry except her engagement ring on her left hand, her birthstone ring on her right hand, her watch, and her pearl earrings. She’d taken great pains with her hair and makeup, anguishing over the right eye shadow, just the right lipstick. Her hair was in a French twist. She grimaced. She looked trim, neat, and tidy. Olivia was almost ready to leave her bedroom when she trotted back to the bathroom and spritzed herself with perfume. She likened the scent to body armor. Now she was ready to leave to make the long drive to Baltimore.

  In the kitchen she put down fresh water and dry dog food for the dogs and pee pads by the door. “I’ll be back by afternoon, so behave yourselves. Special treats when I get back.”