Ruthless

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Ruthless Page 21

by HelenKay Dimon


  “No, they gave it to Kurt.”

  Emily sighed and glanced out into the hallway, then back at Alaina. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “I don’t think that’s right.”

  “If you mean, the person with the most ability didn’t get the job, then I agree. But the reality is, it’s their law firm and Kurt has connections I’ll never have. Better to find out now than spend another seven years here.”

  Emily nodded. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m only working here to get the experience on my résumé. I intend to establish my career in nonprofits.”

  Alaina smiled. “You’re a good person. I have no doubt you’re going to accomplish a lot for society with your career.”

  Emily blushed and she gave Alaina a shy smile. “What are you going to do now?”

  “I don’t know exactly. I have money saved. It’s not like I’ve had much time off to spend it. I may do nothing for a couple of months and give some serious consideration to my options.”

  “I think that’s a great idea. You deserve a break.” She handed an envelope to Alaina. “This was addressed to you personally, not in care of the law firm, so I didn’t open it. I was afraid it wasn’t business-related.”

  “Thanks,” Alaina said. “I’m going to miss you, Emily. Please stay in touch.”

  “Of course. I’m going to miss you, too, Ms. LeBeau.” She left the office and quietly pulled the door shut behind her.

  Alaina flopped into her office chair and the first twinge of fear ran through her. What have you done? Sure, the job sucked, but it paid well, and given the firm’s long history, she had good standing in the legal community.

  She sighed. If money and a good reputation were all that mattered, it would be perfect. But the reality was, they weren’t the most important things to her. If she was being honest with herself, she’d been fighting discontent for years. Now she was thirty-two years old, and no closer to knowing what she wanted to do with her life than she was when she’d started law school.

  It was depressing on so many levels.

  She glanced down at the envelope lying on her desk and frowned. The return address was for a law firm, but wasn’t one she recognized as related to any of her current work. She reached for her letter opener and then removed the single sheet of paper from the envelope.

  Ms. Alaina LeBeau,

  I am writing to inform you of the death of your stepfather, Trenton Purcell. He passed away one month ago after a long-term illness. While Mr. Purcell had controlling interest of your mother’s property during his lifetime, the will left by your mother indicated that all her property was to transfer to her three daughters, with a single stipulation: each of you must occupy the property for a minimum of two consecutive weeks.

  I have tried to find a way around this stipulation, as most individuals cannot take a two-week break from their normal lives to live in another town, but the wording is unshakable. I am afraid that in order to inherit, all of you must fulfill the terms of the will or the property will be auctioned off and the proceeds passed to secondary heirs and charities.

  You do not have to occupy the property at the same time, but each of you must take residence in the year following the death of your stepfather. That gives you each eleven months to meet the terms of the will. Please give me a call at your earliest convenience so that we can discuss your availability to fulfill these terms.

  Sincerely,

  William Harold Duhon,

  Attorney at Law

  She stared at the letter for several seconds, then dropped it on the desk as if it were going to burn her fingers. All these years she’d assumed her mother had left it all to that worthless man she’d married. Over the years, she’d written letters to Purcell, begging him for information on the whereabouts of her sisters, but they’d all gone unanswered. Every weekend, she’d started to get into her car and drive to Calais and force him to answer for what he’d done. Force him to give her the information she wanted. But every time, something stopped her.

  She’d known Purcell was still alive when she’d moved back to Louisiana—had checked enough to know he was living as a recluse, with almost no contact with the outside world. She’d assumed that the home she’d been born in and spent the first seven years of her life was lost to her forever, along with the sisters she had to struggle to remember.

  And now, it was all being offered to her for a mere fourteen days out of her life. Considering she’d just indefinitely cleared her schedule, it didn’t seem a bad proposition. She had no idea what state the house and grounds were in, but at one time, it had been a beautiful estate. More important, the tiny bayou village of Calais was the perfect place to close herself off from society and figure out what she wanted to do with her life. She’d have all the time in the world to contemplate her options, tucked away deep in the swamp with only the mosquitoes to bother her.

  And her mother’s ghost.

  ISBN: 9781460317112

  Copyright © 2013 by HelenKay Dimon

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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