“Nothing, now,” Oliver admitted. “He was so young. I mean, I’m sure he misses his mother as a concept, but at the same time, she left when he was still a toddler. He may not remember much about her, only what’s told to him. But eventually he’s going to get old enough to realize that his mother used him as a pawn to get her hands on my father’s fortune, and then dumped him when he wasn’t useful to her any longer. When that dawns on him, it’s going to hurt. And it doesn’t matter how much Dad loves him, or Harper and I love him. It’s going to make him question why he wasn’t good enough for his mother to want him.”
Lucy’s big, brown eyes widened in concern, getting larger the more he said. “What kind of woman would leave her baby behind like that? That’s horrible.”
Her response and disgust seemed genuine. “A woman like my stepmother. Does Harper just not talk about our family at all?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not really. I always got the feeling that talking about herself made her uncomfortable. I don’t know why. Violet and Emma grew up with wealth and privilege like she did. I’m the broke outsider in the group.”
“Not even when the stuff came up with the will? She didn’t mention Candace?”
“No, she didn’t.”
Oliver sighed. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she snuggled in against his chest. “Candace is Danny’s mother. My father remained single for over ten years after our mother died of cervical cancer. Mom’s illness was hard on everyone, and when it was all over, he wanted to focus on raising us and running his company. There just wasn’t any room left for a relationship, even if he had been ready to date again. After Harper went off to college, he met Candace and got all wrapped up in her. It all happened so fast. The whole situation was a nightmare from start to finish.”
“Why was it a nightmare?”
“Because, for a start, she was three years older than me. Dad didn’t seem to care about cradle robbing. She was beautiful and she fawned over him like he was the most amazing man she’d ever met. I guess he needed that after all those years alone. It was obvious to everyone but him that she was just after his money. He was blinded by her beauty and was so desperate to find someone to love him that he fell right into her trap. They got married within a year and she got pregnant with Danny pretty quickly. Before his second birthday, Candace had spent all my father’s liquid assets and charged up all his credit accounts into the millions. When he finally put his foot down over her spending, it was only because he had no choice. She had wiped him out. He cut her off financially and she split almost immediately, leaving Danny behind. I guess he wasn’t worth taking just for the child support checks when she could do better on her own. Last I heard, she married another tech billionaire from Silicon Valley. One of our competitors, if you can believe her nerve.”
Oliver didn’t want to drone on and on about Candace, so he got to the point as quickly as he could and waited to see what Lucy had to say about it. Very little, it turned out. Instead, they sat together in an awkward silence that seemed to stretch on forever.
Finally, Lucy spoke in a small voice. “So that’s why.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s why you automatically presumed that I’m an awful person. Because of her.”
Now that he’d gotten to know Lucy better, he was ashamed to tell her as much, but he knew it was true. That’s what experience had taught him. “I’ll admit it colored my opinion, yes.”
Lucy pushed herself up in bed and tugged the sheets to her chest defensively. She had a pained expression lining her brow and the corners of her mouth were turned down just slightly. “Colored your opinion, my foot,” she snapped. “You didn’t know me from Adam and you lashed out at me as though you’d seen a sketch of my face on a Wanted poster or something. You thought I’d conned your aunt just like your stepmother conned your father. Admit it.”
“It’s not—”
“Admit it,” Lucy pressed. “You thought I was such a horrible person that I was willing to steal all your aunt’s belongings out from under you all. Do you think I killed her, too?”
“Of course not!” Oliver replied. “Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think I’d be lying in bed with you if I thought you were capable of something like that?”
“Okay, so not a murderer, but certainly a swindler.”
Oliver twisted his lips in thought for a moment before he turned away from Lucy’s accusatory gaze and sighed. “Okay, I guess I did. But you have to understand that the situation with Candace left me suspicious of everyone’s motives, not just yours. On a date, the moment a woman asked what business I was in or what area of town I lived in, I could feel this anxiety start to creep in.”
“Those are pretty common first date questions.”
“I know,” he said, feeling foolish about the whole thing but unable to suppress it. “But it felt like women were just trying to figure out how much money I had. Or if they knew my family and showed an interest, I convinced myself that it couldn’t be because they were genuinely interested in me. Watching Candace work my dad over was hard. Especially since we couldn’t say a bad word about her to him. Trust me when I say we tried, but he wouldn’t listen. In the end, he looked like a fool and I never wanted to make that same mistake.”
“So a woman couldn’t possibly be interested in you because you’re smart or handsome? Well dressed? Did you ever think that maybe one of those women was just interested in seeing if you had a big...garden?”
“I do have a larger than average garden.” Oliver started to laugh, and then he clapped his right hand over his eyes in dismay. “Oh, you’re right. I know you’re right. I erred on the side of caution.”
“And what good did it do you?”
Oliver looked down at Lucy, her naked body warm and curved against him. “It got you here, for a start. If I hadn’t been so suspicious of you, I might not have followed you around and therefore, might not have fallen for your many charms.”
Lucy smirked at him, unimpressed by his flattery. “And now that you’ve fallen for my charms...do you still think I conned your aunt?”
He knew this was a critical moment in the relationship he’d never expected to have with Lucy. After spending this time together, he should know, one way or another, if she was guilty of everything he’d accused her of. If he thought she was innocent, he’d say so right now without hesitation. And yet the seconds ticked by without his answer as he struggled with his prejudices.
Finally, he found the right combination of words. They might not be the ones she wanted to hear, but it was an honest response. “I really like you, Lucy. More than I ever expected to. I don’t want to believe you could do something like that. I’m not sure if that makes me idealistic or just plain stupid.”
Lucy watched his face for a moment. He could tell by the dimmed light in her eyes that he’d still hurt her even though she was trying to act as though he hadn’t. “Thank you for answering that honestly,” she said at last. She sat in deep thought for a few seconds before a yawn overtook her and he could tell she was losing the fight to sleep. “I don’t know how to prove to you that I’m not like your stepmother, but I’m not going to figure that out tonight. I guess all I can do is keep trying. Good night, Oliver.”
She leaned in to give him a kiss, then she lay back down, cuddling against him with another contagious yawn. After a few moments in the dark silence, he could tell she’d drifted off to sleep. He wished he could fall asleep that easily. But not tonight.
Tonight, he was left with questions he couldn’t answer. Not with enough certainty to make him feel better. When Lucy called him out for putting his hang-ups over Candace on her and painting them with the same guilty brush, he felt foolish about the whole thing.
Oliver had decided Lucy was guilty without a stitch of evidence to prove it. And his big plan to uncover her secrets hadn’t resulted in a single incriminating thi
ng about her since that day at the lawyer’s office. Honestly, he hadn’t really tried. A background check hadn’t revealed anything insidious. She was the only child of two blue-collar parents from central Ohio who split up when she was only a few years old. No criminal record, no negative remarks on her credit report...even her transcript from Yale proved her to be an above-average student.
By all accounts, she was delightful to be around, thoughtful, smart and sexy as hell. He couldn’t imagine her being a crook like Candace was.
Even then, he had a hard time turning off his suspicious thoughts.
He’d like to think that if he truly suspected she was guilty of tricking Alice into changing her will, he wouldn’t be in bed with her at the moment. That had to be worth something. And yet he hadn’t called off his lawyers either. It was entirely possible that his aunt had simply left her estate to someone she thought deserved it.
As far as she knew, no one in the family was truly hurting for money. He was fine. Harper seemed to be getting along okay. And despite his father’s claims of being broke, he was far from it. He still brought in more income in a single month from his investment portfolio than most people earned in a year. It didn’t last as long in Manhattan as it would other places, but he wasn’t about to be out on the street. He also had his retirement from the company. Real estate holdings. It just wasn’t enough to maintain the lifestyle Candace wanted.
His father may have been blinded by love, but Aunt Alice was no one’s fool. If she could see all the quibbling going on over her will, she’d come back from the grave and tell them all to quit it because she knew full well what she was doing when she changed it. Lucy would have to be a very skilled scam artist to pull one over on her.
He didn’t see that level of cunning in her. So why didn’t he drop the protest? He was the only one keeping Lucy from getting everything she was due.
Maybe he would.
Oliver sighed and closed his eyes to try to sleep.
Maybe he wouldn’t.
* * *
Lucy woke up in Oliver’s bed the next morning. She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or regret about last night, but she found herself wide awake at dawn with her mind racing over the night before. She didn’t want to disturb Oliver, so she put on her capris, stole a T-shirt from his dresser and slipped out of the room.
She made herself a cup of coffee using the Keurig on his Carrara marble countertop, doctored it with half-and-half from his refrigerator and settled at the kitchen table. There was no reason she would be awake at this hour after staying up half the night, but there was an anxiety swirling in her stomach and in her head. It demanded she wake up, so here she was. There would no doubt be a nap in her future once she was back at her apartment.
For the time being, Lucy sipped her coffee. It felt strange sitting idly in Oliver’s kitchen, but she felt equally weird about doing anything else in his home while he was still asleep. That left her the option of leaving, and she knew that wasn’t the right path to take. Last night, while unexpected, had been amazing and romantic. This morning might prove awkward, and they might never share a moment like that again, but it wouldn’t be because she chickened out and ran before he woke up.
Taking another sip of her coffee, she felt her stomach start to rumble. Unlike her friend Violet, who could charge through the day on a steady diet of coffee and the occasional protein bar before she got pregnant, Lucy liked to eat, and she especially liked to eat breakfast. Eggs, pancakes, waffles, sugary cereal, oatmeal, toast, bacon...you name it. She was a fan of the meal in general. She wasn’t the kind who could make it to lunch without eating anything.
How long could she last today? She looked at the clock in the hallway. It was just after six thirty. There was a deli up the block where she could get a bagel or order delivery, but she didn’t need to be seen by the general public. Especially not wearing silk capris, a hole-ridden old T-shirt, no bra, last night’s makeup and morning-after hair. Lucy didn’t need a mirror to know that she’d announce “walk of shame” to anyone she passed.
Including Oliver.
On that note, Lucy pushed aside the idea of food for a moment and sought out the hall powder room to see how bad it really was. She winced in the mirror when she switched on the light. It was a rough look.
The clothes were what they were unless she wanted to wear her gown around the house, but she could clean up the rest. She splashed warm water on her face and used a disposable towel to wipe away the remnants of last night’s smoky eye. Then she finger-combed her hair into a messy knot on the top of her head. It was still a far cry from her polished look at the museum the night before, but it was a casual, carefree messy instead of a hot-mess messy. The best she could do on an unplanned overnight stay.
The apartment was still silent when she stepped back out into the hall. Silent enough for her loud tummy rumbling to nearly echo. She couldn’t put off breakfast for too much longer.
Lucy started rummaging through his cabinets for an easy option but found nothing she could grab like a pastry or a granola bar. That left real food. Oliver didn’t strike her as the kind of man who did a lot of cooking, but she hadn’t thought he was a gardener either. While the selection wasn’t outstanding, she did find just enough between the contents of the pantry and the refrigerator to cobble together a decent breakfast for the two of them.
It was actually a dish that Alice had taught her to make in the years she’d lived with her. She’d called it Trash Casserole, but it was basically a crustless quiche filled with an assortment of breakfast foods. The idea was to make it with whatever was on hand, hence the trash, but Alice always made it following a strict recipe, which Lucy appreciated.
Her mother was an excellent cook after working at the local diner for twenty years, but it never rubbed off on Lucy. She wasn’t a natural at it the way her mom was. Her mother could never explain how or why she did certain things, she just cooked it until it looked right and never followed a recipe. Eventually, Lucy just got frustrated with trying to learn and gave up.
Alice had been a lot easier to follow. She kept all her recipes on neatly handwritten cards in a brass box that sat in the cupboard. Those cards were gospel as far as Alice was concerned and she never strayed. Lucy had thought she would copy them all down for herself so she could make those dishes in her own home one day. Now, she realized, those painstakingly scripted cards were hers, along with everything else.
Maybe.
Lucy doubted that Oliver would begrudge her some recipe cards if she really wanted them, but at the moment, they were tied up with about half a billion in other assets of the estate. She’d tried not to think about Oliver as her adversary, but his aunt’s will was definitely the elephant in the room with them. Lucy didn’t expect him to drop the protest just because they’d had sex, but a part of her hoped that maybe he knew her well enough now not to confuse her with his greedy stepmother. Or perhaps not. Sex somehow could change everything and yet nothing all at once.
“Something smells good.”
Lucy looked up to see Oliver standing near the Keurig. He was looking deliciously messy himself, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and some heavy stubble. The hard, tan stomach she’d explored the night before was on full display with his jeans hanging low on his hips. He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled sheepishly. The combination sent her pulse through the roof. It was nearly enough of a distraction to make her burn their breakfast if the timer hadn’t gone off that very second.
“Good morning,” she said, anxiously turning away from him and focusing on pulling the casserole out of the oven. “Are you hungry?”
“Mmm-hmm,” he muttered as he came in closer and snuggled up behind her. He planted a kiss on her neck that sent a chill down her spine and a warmth of awareness across her skin. She turned to give him a proper good-morning kiss but realized his attention had shifted to what she was cooking.
“Is that Trash Casserole?” he asked with a look of astonishment on his face.
Lucy nodded. “It is. Have you had it before?”
“Have I had it before?” He took a step back and shook his head. “It’s only the best thing Aunt Alice ever made. She cooked it every morning for Harper and me after we stayed the night with her.”
She turned off the oven. “Well, good. She’s the one that taught me how to make it, so hopefully it’s at least half as good as hers.”
Oliver eyeballed the dish with a wide grin. “It looks exactly like I remember it. I don’t think I’ve eaten that in twenty years.”
Lucy looked at him with a confused frown. “How is that possible? You had all the stuff to make it in the house. It’s not a particularly complicated recipe. You mean you’ve never tried to do it yourself in all this time?”
He shook his head and took a step toward the coffee maker. “No. I don’t cook. Not even a little. I pay a lady to come in twice a week to clean and stock the fridge with a few things I can eat. I found if I didn’t do that, I’d just eat takeout until I needed bigger pants. Anything you found in the house, she left here, I can assure you.”
Lucy wasn’t surprised. “Well you’ll have to apologize to her for me when she comes by again and finds I’ve used up her supplies.”
Oliver chuckled as he popped a pod into the coffee machine and turned it on. “She won’t mind. I’m sure Patty would be happy to come here and find evidence of cooking instead of candy wrappers and take-out containers in my trash can.”
Lucy made them both plates and they settled together at the kitchen table. It was a nice moment to share, diffusing any of the morning-after awkwardness. They were nearly finished when Oliver’s cell phone rang.
She sat silently as he answered, giving one-word replies and frowning at the table. “Okay. I’ll be there shortly. I just got up.”
He hit the button to hang up and looked at her with an apologetic expression on his face. “That was my dad. They’re taking Danny to the hospital in an ambulance. He had an accident at his riding lesson this morning. I’m sorry to cut our breakfast short, but I need to go meet Dad in the emergency room.”
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