by Leigh Hays
Lindsey made a diving jet plane with her hand, crash and burn. She’d known from the start that it wasn’t a forever thing. In fact, it never should have been a thing at all, but she’d been lonely and distracted, so she allowed the whole relationship to go on too long. “She moved out six months ago while I was in London.”
Jen grimaced. “Ouch.”
Lindsey shook her head. She’d been relieved to come home to an empty apartment. “No, I’m just glad she didn’t take anything that wasn’t hers.” She leaned forward. “Remember Kelly?” In a long list of poor choices, Kelly had been the worst of those choices. The sex had been phenomenal but nothing else was.
“Just barely.”
“Yeah. She was crazy. Took all the electronics. I came home just as she was making another sweep.”
“Why didn’t you have her arrested?”
Lindsey groaned. “And keep her in my life for the next six months? No, thank you. I can afford new equipment.” She switched topics. “How’s work?”
Jen opened her hands in a half shrug. “It’s good.”
Lindsey stared. It wasn’t like Jen to be so off. “That’s some enthusiasm you’ve got going on there.”
“Brian’s retiring. My boss.” She shook her head. “He’s been grooming me for the last three years to take his place, but I can feel the wagons circling. They’re going to hire another man into that position.”
“Is there anything you can do?”
“Quit.” She shook her head. “I can’t, though. Carter’s finally settled at Hutchinson’s. Rachel and I are still sharing the house.” Rachel was Jen’s ex-wife and the co-parent of her son, Carter. “I’m kind of trapped here.”
Lindsey reached over. “I’ve got some money. I could help.”
Jen shook her head. “Nah. I’ll figure it out. If and when it happens.” She smiled. “Who knows, I could get lucky.”
“I can’t believe you’re still living with Rachel.” Jen and Rachel rotated visitations so that one of them stayed with their son in the house, and the other lived elsewhere.
“Ugh. I know.” Jen stood up as their order was called. “It’s great for Carter.” She handed an iced coffee to Lindsey, and they headed back to the street. “But I think I might kill Rachel before the end of the year.”
Lindsey admired Jen’s devotion to her son and patience with her ex. But she’d never make the compromises Jen did to make her relationships work. She just didn’t have that kind of stamina for that level of commitment. “I don’t know how you do it.”
Jen sighed. “I just think of it as having two kids instead of one.”
They talked back and forth about mutual acquaintances until they stopped in front of Lindsey’s building. Jen fished Lindsey’s containers out of the bag and handed them off. “At least you’ll eat.”
Lindsey smiled. “Thanks.” She leaned in to give her a half hug as they juggled their meals and drinks. Pulling back, she asked, “Hey, are you going to my mom’s fundraiser?”
Jen grinned. “Going? I made that happen. What about you?”
“Well, I was on the fence, but now that you’ll be there…”
Jen laughed. “Then I’ll see you there.”
Lindsey left with a quick hug and a promise to reschedule. Sitting at her desk, she opened her lunch and tapped her mouse to check her email. A calendar reminder popped up. She had ten minutes to get to her next appointment, just enough time to wolf down her lunch and review the client folder. She flipped it open and quickly read up on Rebekiah Kearns.
Chapter Three
“Are you sure you want to do this? It’s a lot of money.” Elena pulled out a chair and sat in the conference room with her back to the windows.
Rebekiah glanced out toward Kennedy Plaza and the multitude of buses coming and going before she shrugged out of her jacket and settled into the chair next to her. The burden of Emma’s money weighed on her. It was their last connection, and after four years, she was ready to let go. The protracted court battle with Emma’s siblings was the only reason she’d held on to it for so long. “It’s not like I’d had it before.”
Elena nodded. “But you also don’t have to give it away.”
Rebekiah put her hand on Elena’s forearm. They’d had this conversation before, and she was in no mood to have it again. “Thanks for coming. You didn’t have to do this.”
“She was my friend, too. Besides, it’s always nice to have a lawyer present when you’re signing contracts.”
Rebekiah didn’t comment on the fact that Elena was a defense attorney, and they were not waiting in a courthouse.
The glass doors opened, and three people entered, two women and one man. Rebekiah’s eyes slid past the first woman and landed on the second one. A few inches shorter than Rebekiah, she was still tall for a woman, most of it in her legs. She wore her dark hair in a short business style, neither butch nor femme. Her business suit was expensive, tailored to fit her torso and accentuate her shoulders and breasts. And when they made eye contact, her dark gray eyes and smile said that she’d caught Rebekiah checking her out.
Every nerve in her body took notice, and all she could think to say was, “You’re not Roger.”
The woman reached across the table. “Lindsey Blackwell.”
Rebekiah half stood and shook her hand. Lindsey’s grip was firm and dry. She felt every point where they touched before she let go and sat back down. She suppressed her reaction and focused on the matter at hand. “Rebekiah Kearns. Elena Travada. Where’s Roger?” He had handled her accounts since Emma’s estate had left probate six months ago.
Lindsey sat in the chair across from her. “Roger no longer works for us. I’ve taken over his accounts.” She scanned the document in front of her before she looked up and held Rebekiah’s gaze. “All of it?”
Rebekiah steeled herself and nodded. This was not the first time she’d had to convince someone she wanted to do this. Before Roger and Elena, Emma had tried, but Rebekiah had been angry and adamant. “I don’t want it,” Rebekiah had said.
Emma had been unfazed. “Well, you’re taking it.” They’d argued for hours, and later, Rebekiah had broken down in Emma’s arms. “It’s a shit trade for you.”
“It’s all I have left to give you.”
Four years later, she was still angry and adamant that the money was no substitute for her best friend. “All of it.”
Lindsey stared, and Rebekiah felt the full weight of her personality in those intelligent and calculating eyes. This was a woman accustomed to being the smartest person in the room and working that to her advantage. Lindsey didn’t lose.
Giving her the win, Rebekiah glanced away, and Lindsey said, “You have thirty-two million in assets. Is that correct?”
More than she thought. Rebekiah hid her surprise and decided to play along. “You would know.”
Lindsey gave a curt nod and scanned the room. “Yes. You make fifty-five to sixty thousand a year?”
Rebekiah glanced around, trying to see where Lindsey picked up that number. “A little closer to seventy. What’s your point?”
Lindsey steepled her fingers and tapped them against her mouth. “This kind of money changes things. Most people get an inheritance like this and blow it away in ten years. They buy things that cost too much to maintain, and it chips away.”
Rebekiah almost lost focus, too transfixed on Lindsey’s fingers, remembering their strength and wondering what they’d feel like touching more intimate places, before she wrenched her attention back. She didn’t care about the money chipping away. She’d never wanted it in the first place but felt obligated to take it. She shrugged, unmoved by the argument. “But not if I give it all away.”
Lindsey tilted her head, and a slight smile played on her lips. “True, but I could make this money work for you. Have you ever wanted to do something more? We could get this money to do that for you. Give me six months, and let me prove it.”
Emma had said something similar when she told her she
didn’t want it. Something deep inside her stirred, and for the first time, she considered what she’d do with that kind of money. She’d never have to work again. No more bills. Giddy relief bubbled inside her that evaporated into guilt. She shouldn’t want this.
Elena’s full-on lawyer voice emerged. “That’s not why we’re here today.”
Nodding, Lindsey held up her hand. “I know. You want to give it all away. And I’d be the first person to help you do that, but I think I can make your money do more good than a one-time donation. Do you trust me?”
Rebekiah perked up at the challenge. Did she trust her? Rebekiah suppressed the laugh that threatened to escape. “Trust is a funny thing. It takes time to build.” She paused and leaned in. “Are you willing to put in the time?”
Lindsey held her gaze.
Rebekiah reveled in that intensity, wondering what it would be like elsewhere. That look, those eyes, the passion below the surface. She had an urge to capture that passion with her camera.
Lindsey’s focus never wavered. “Absolutely.”
But her answer didn’t matter. For the chance to see her again, Rebekiah would hang on to the money a little bit longer.
* * *
Lindsey waited outside the conference room while Rebekiah and her lawyer looked over the contract; both Brian and Sabine had already left. Lindsey took her time studying Rebekiah. Small nose, small lips, bright blue eyes, and curly brown hair styled into a long pixie that stopped just below her ears. Shave off a few years, tousle her hair, downgrade her clothes, and she’d be the poster child for “starving artist.” But her smile and poise conveyed a warmth and confidence that her looks were just catching up to. Rebekiah was a woman who would physically come into her own in her late thirties; she was a few years away but starting to look the part.
Black pants, pale blue dress shirt, brown oxfords. Her leather jacket slung on the chair next to her. She was dressed for comfort with a nod toward business casual. Her friend, Elena, wore gray pinstripes, a red blouse, and a tailored suit coat. She was dressed for court. There was an aura of protectiveness in her stance toward Rebekiah. Friend, family, lover?
Rebekiah met her look through the glass wall and offered her a slight smile. Lindsey responded in kind before she realized what she was doing. She dismissed the warmth that suffused her body as the byproduct of signing an attractive client. Rebekiah was not the first client she’d landed with sexual overtones. She’d defuse that smolder easily enough. She’d turned away more than one suitor with cold professionalism and solid business acumen.
Sabine came back with another folder. “How do you want me to handle her follow-up?”
With barely a sideways glance, Lindsey tucked the folder under her arm. “I’ve got it.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
Lindsey pulled her gaze away from Rebekiah. She had already begun off-loading Roger’s accounts to Sabine. It was more work for the junior analyst, but it was also a promotion of sorts. However, it was a delicate balance, and she’d have to hold on to a few people. Rebekiah’s net worth was a little below her normal range and slightly outside her area of expertise. She specialized in institutional investments, but she had experience with family wealth management. Besides, Rebekiah was hard to read, and she liked a challenge. “I’ll run with it for a bit. I have a couple ideas that might make sense for me to work with her.”
Sabine nodded, and Lindsey glanced back toward the conference room. She’d been surprised that she landed her so quickly, but she was too concerned about Roger’s exit to let a thirty-two-million-dollar client walk out the door to spend too much time analyzing it. Once Rebekiah left, it would be twice as hard to bring her back in. And who knew how much money Roger had cost them?
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and asked, “How are we doing here? Any questions?”
Rebekiah glanced at Elena, who shook her head. Whoever Elena was, she held sway in Rebekiah’s life. Lindsey would have to account for that later. Rebekiah slid the contract over. “What’s our next step?”
Lindsey paused half a beat. Not your but our. Interesting. She adjusted her pitch accordingly. “I’m going to take a hard look at your portfolio and look for areas of growth. But then we’re going to talk. Most people have a personal relationship to money. We need to figure out what yours is and develop a plan to suit it.”
Rebekiah chuckled. “That’s easy. I earn it, and then I spend it.”
Lindsey held her gaze, meeting Rebekiah’s blue eyes head-on. She couldn’t get a read, and it bothered her. A piece of the puzzle was missing, and it had to do with the inheritance. “That’s not what I meant. Can I be blunt?”
Rebekiah nodded.
“Most of my clients are accustomed to great wealth. There’s a shared culture that I draw upon with them. But with you…” She paused for a moment and considered her next words, wishing she’d had more time to do research before meeting her. “There’s something tied up in this money—something emotional—that made you want to give it all away. Yes?”
Another curt nod. She saw Rebekiah tensing, so she switched tactics. “We’re going to have to talk about that.”
Silence stretched between them. Lindsey’s gaze never wavered while Rebekiah sized her up. Elena rested her hand on Rebekiah’s forearm. Lindsey felt an odd tinge of jealousy at their easy intimacy that she pushed aside.
“And if I don’t want to?”
“Then you can either live off the interest or give it all away. I’d prefer you did the latter. If I know the reasons why, I might be able to make your money work in a different way.” Why was she still so resistant? She’d already signed the contract. What had her so tied up in knots about this money?
There was a cat-and-mouse feel to this conversation that bugged her. Not the give-and-take so much as the thought that just this once she might be the mouse and not the cat.
Rebekiah’s body language loosened up, and she stood. Elena followed.
Lindsey scrambled to her feet. Had she pushed too hard? She hated being so blind in negotiations. She glanced at the signed contract.
Rebekiah dropped a business card on the table. “When you’re done with my portfolio, come see me at my studio, and we’ll talk.”
She picked up the card, but Rebekiah was already out the door. What just happened? Did it really matter? She’d salvaged one deal. Time to make another one. But without Rebekiah’s presence, the room felt small. Lindsey fumbled with the card. Rebekiah Kearns, Boudoir Photography. Rebekiah specialized in pinup pictures. A nervous laugh escaped her lips. No wonder she felt so exposed.
Chapter Four
Lindsey came home to her loft. Dark cherry hardwood floors, white walls, and black iron trim combined with leather and brightly colored Ikea furniture lent the space a warm but utilitarian look. She slipped off her heels and dropped onto her couch. Rubbing her foot, she closed her eyes. Twenty minutes later, she woke up disoriented with her shoe in her hand and her phone vibrating across the room.
She got up and dug around for her phone. Hitting the home button, she glanced at the display. A text from her mother. Nice to see you tonight.
Lindsey rolled her eyes. They’d spoken for less than ten minutes total, and most of that in the company of other people. She typed back, Same.
You slipped out early.
Of course she noticed. It was always about optics with her mother. It didn’t look good when her daughter wasn’t around. Jen had picked her up straight from work, where she’d pulled her emergency cocktail dress from its garment bag off the back of her door. She spent an hour working the room, just long enough to make her presence known, before the last few weeks caught up with her, and she made a quiet exit. Jetlagged. She hit enter, stood, and walked to the kitchen.
China or London?
China. Pouring a glass of water, she headed up the stairs to change. She walked past her bathroom—a blue tile, glass, and porcelain affair—and into her bedroom. Another vibration.
Your
father’s in town next week. Dinner?
She smiled. It would be good to see him again. He was always their buffer. Okay. Text me details.
Will do. Gotta go. Good night.
Good night. She tossed her phone aside and snorted. Typical. Perfunctory emotion, cursory check-in, followed by familial logistics. She’d adjusted to this level of communication long ago. She checked the time; she didn’t want to be late.
Slipping out of her dress, she changed into a pair of NYU sweats and a blue T-shirt. She moved through her apartment, grabbing water and checking the thermostat before settling down on her couch. Pulling out her laptop, she found the online conference room she was looking for, tucked the earbuds into place, and logged in.
Adam was the first to appear on video. “Hey there.”
“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” She glanced at the time. “Isn’t it still early in Vancouver?”
“I’m in Toronto this week.” His Canadian accent bled out on the t’s in Toronto. “Where are you?”
Lindsey leaned back and to the side so he could see the Providence skyline behind her. “Home.”
He clutched at his chest. “Be still my beating heart. What’s brought you back?”
More people started to ding into the call. She recognized several faces, other business people who traveled the world.
After the meeting began, Lindsey listened with half an ear, mulling over her meeting with Rebekiah. From the moment she shook her hand, she knew that she’d have to fight for every inch of ground with her. She had a couple ideas for keeping Rebekiah on board. If she could get a jump on Rebekiah’s buy-in, she could pass along the detail work to Sabine. At the time, it made sense to keep Rebekiah’s account with her, but she was beginning to feel the pressure of the extra workload. A weird possessiveness sparked inside her at the thought of passing her off to Sabine. Although she had her favorites, she didn’t get turfy with clients. Something about Rebekiah was different.