I pulled in a deep breath as soon as the elevator door opened and strode quickly down the hall to my door. I had to call Meemaw’s lawyer, Maurice Trigg. He might be a cold fish in the personality department, but I knew I could trust him. My grandmother had told me many times that there wasn’t a better lawyer around. Maurice had worked for my dad until the witch had taken over. She had screwed him over, too. He hated her almost as much as I did. I need him with me. He would know what to do.
Justin put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around before I put in the key in. My mind was racing through things so fast that I completely forgot he was with me. Something under any other circumstances would have been nearly impossible. “Hold on.” His face was hard. “Stop for a minute.”
“I can’t.” I could hear the panicky edge to my voice. “I’ve got to make a phone call, get Carter ready, get packed, get a taxi, call the school, call work.”
He put a finger over my lips. “Yes you can.” His eyes sparked with controlled anger. I could feel the tension in his grip. “What the hell is going on? What company is this?”
“Crystal Hotels.”
“Holy hell.” He took a step back, looking at me as if he’d never seen me before. His eyes went wide. “Your father was Randall Dubois?”
“Yes.” I sighed.
“You’re a freaking heiress.”
“No I’m not. Not anymore.” I shook my head. “I told you my father remarried. Everything belongs to my stepmother now.”
“I remember that wedding.” His gaze slid to the side and took on a faraway glow. “All the New York stations carried it live. Avery made me watch it with her. It was as big a deal as Prince William and Kate. There was a horse drawn carriage and everything. And that little girl with big blue eyes walking down the aisle with her father.” He blinked. “That was you?”
I nodded, eyes filling as I remembered that day, too. The feel of my father’s large hand holding mine. The way he smelled. How frightened I’d been. For a good reason as it turned out.
“Holy fucking hell. I can’t believe this.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it as disheveled as my insides felt. “So Evelyn Dubois must be the witch, then. Your stepmother, right? You’d never know it from all the fawning media coverage. She’s always doing some charity fundraiser or event.”
“She’s a stellar actress,” I commented drily. “And a complete fraud. She doesn’t care about anyone but herself. She’s as fake as her silicone implants.”
“You’re not going without me.” He straightened his shoulders. “I’m coming with you.”
“No, Justin. You can’t. You’ve got rehearsals, and the benefit concert’s coming up.”
“In eight days, yeah. It’ll have to wait. You’re more important.”
My chest squeezed.
“No arguments. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go down there alone.” He touched my cheek lightly with the back of his knuckles. “You go do what you need to do to get ready. I’ll throw together a few things, make a few calls and then come help you with Carter. There’s room for one more on the jet, right?”
“Yeah. If it’s the same one I used to ride around in.”
“Ok. You can fill me in on the details on the flight.”
I nodded numbly and watched him walk away still staring when he let himself into his apartment. No one had ever put me first. Not even my dad. With him there had always been an unspoken understanding that the business came first. So many birthdays and special occasions passed by without him being present. Even when he had been with me, his phone had always been pressed to his ear. Inside I was reeling, but the thought of Justin at my side helped me hold it together.
I pulled the CH monogrammed covers up to Carter’s chin. I was glad someone would get some sleep tonight. A quick glance around the bedroom on the plane confirmed what I suspected. Though it looked like the same plane from the outside, it was totally changed on the inside. She’d redecorated it to match her complete lack of taste. Before, it had been elegant crisp whites and warm neutrals. Now it was purple, silver, and shiny black, flashy just like her. She’d mismanaged the hotel chain in much the same way. I’d read in the last issue of Forbes that Crystal’s stock was undervalued and ripe for a fall, and that they might even lose their coveted five diamond ranking.
My father and grandfather would have been aghast. The chain had built a reputation based on superior customer service and understated class, but with the witch, the focus was always on the superficial, the more garish or gaudy, the better.
I closed the door behind me. Justin was right by my side just as he’d been since the phone call.
“He asleep?”
I nodded.
“Good. He needs his rest. He was pretty anxious, you know? He picks up on your moods.”
I knew.
“It’ll be ok,” he reassured.
God, I hoped so. I offered up a silent prayer that going back there wouldn’t ruin everything for me. Justin moved closer. He framed my face with his hands, and brushed his thumbs across my cheeks. I wanted to let him take care of me. I wanted to relax and take what he offered, but I couldn’t allow myself that luxury. I needed to explain. There were things he needed to know. Big things. Things I didn’t want Carter to overhear.
“Let’s talk.” I removed his hands keeping one in my grip and led him to the lounge. I tucked my bare feet underneath me in a leather chair. He sat opposite me, a serious expression clouded his face. I leaned forward. “I had a long conversation with my grandmother’s lawyer.” My fingers tightened on the armrests. “My dad had a trust set up, Justin. Maurice told me it predates my father’s remarriage. My grandmother never told me about it. She wanted me to make my own way in the world. Make my own mistakes, take my knocks, and learn from them. She always thought she made things too easy for my father. She wanted me to be different. Stronger.”
“You are strong.” Justin leaned toward me. He covered my hands with his own and squeezed.
“I hope so.” I managed a half smile. “I’m gonna need to be. The terms of the trust go into effect this Friday at midnight, exactly thirty days after Meemaw’s passing.” I managed a swallow to moisten my dry throat. “It gives me sixty percent of the entire company. A controlling interest.” I wasn’t kidding myself, though. I knew no matter what the paperwork said I was going to have a big fight on my hands. Evelyn wasn’t going to turn over the company to me with a pat on the back and just slink away into the night. She was a dangerous adversary. This meeting she wanted me to attend before the trust activated had me worried.
“What do I know about running a company? I poked myself in the chest as if that could toughen me up. I’m a twenty-one year old single mom who never finished college, a former drug addict.” I looked down at my hands. “I’m scared,” I whispered.
“I believe in you.” He pulled my chin up, his eyes roaming my face as he spoke. Whatever he read in my features, Justin certainly knew just what I needed. He got up, scooped me up into his arms, and settled back onto the couch with me on his lap. I put my hands on his chest. The strength of him was reassuring. The nervous shivers settled down as I absorbed his warmth. “You’ve got this, babe.” He stroked a hand soothingly over my hair. “Rest, Bridget. You don’t have to resolve everything tonight. We’ll take it one step at a time.” He kissed the top of my head, and I burrowed in closer, resting my cheek against his solid chest. “And we’ll figure it out…together.”
The dress I’d bought for Bridget during our shopping spree, clung to her hourglass body in all the right places, and her legs looked a mile long in sexy high heeled black pumps.
She looked poised and confident in the tuxedo inspired piece, white at the bodice with tiny black crystal buttons from neck to hem. The dispassionate expression veiling her face made her seem like she belonged in this high toned modern office with its pristine white leather and glossy silver and glass. In fact, she looked like the heiress who I now knew she was.
&nb
sp; The worry that had been niggling at the back of my mind since I found out pushed its way back to the front again. What place would I have in a life that suddenly included a fourteen story corporate office, a company jet, and thousands of employees across the globe? Before, I felt like we were two everyday ordinary people. Now…well, I had no experience in the world of the ultra-rich.
Carter knocked me out of my musings with an accidental elbow to my side. “Hey, Champ.” I scruffed his head and he squirmed beside me on the waiting room couch. “You ok?”
“Mommy’s scared,” he ventured, big blue eyes wide, solemn as his three piece black suit. I didn’t ask but assumed it was the one he’d worn to his grandmother’s funeral.
“Why do you think that?” I glanced over at her again. She was still huddled with her grandmother’s lawyer, Maurice Trigg, a tall black man with distinguished grey at his temples. His stern demeanor and the no nonsense way he carried himself projected an aura of authority. He didn’t seem like someone you wanted to tangle with. The way I figured it, with him on our side, the deck was definitely stacked in our favor. I had a strong feeling that the wicked witch was about to meet her match.
“She’s not talking,” Carter explained.
He was right. In fact, I’d been so caught up in all the drama that I hadn’t even noticed till Carter pointed it out. Bridget hadn’t said more than two words to me all morning. I wanted to kick myself. Instead I squeezed Carter’s shoulder. I stood and smoothed the crease from my black wool trousers. “Bridget,” I called. “Do you have a second?”
“Huh.” She blinked at me, her bottom lip between her teeth.
“We still have a few minutes before the meeting starts,” Maurice nodded in my direction. “Go ahead, but make it quick.”
I took her by the elbow to an alcove by a window overlooking a busy Orlando street.
“What?” she asked.
“Just this.” I drew her into my arms, ran my hands up her spine, and then into her hair, tilting her face back into a better position for me to touch my lips to hers. Firmly but gently I willed her to absorb all the love and confidence I had in her.
Bridget gave me a dreamy smile, a welcome replacement for the detached expression she’d worn all morning.
“Good morning,” I told her, as pleased as if my kiss had awakened her from some long enchanted slumber.
I grinned like an idiot at her.
“Well,” a nasally voice interrupted. “I see nothing’s changed. You’re still the same little slut.”
Bridget stiffened.
I turned my head and got my first glance at the piece of work that was Evelyn Dubois. She looked down her aquiline nose at her stepdaughter before shifting her gaze to me. Then her expression completely changed. Her brown eyes went all sultry and her heavily reddened lips curved. Some guys might think she ranked a MILF status. She did look good, if you were into the ‘I’m vain and I’ve got a shit ton of plastic surgery to prove it’ kind of reptile. Personally, I would have kept my distance, even in my most reckless days.
“Mrs. Dubois,” Trigg interjected. Her cold calculating eyes sliced to him. “Personal insults will not be tolerated. My client has agreed to this meeting only as a courtesy. I’m not sure why this all couldn’t have been handled by the attorneys without the drama. But since everyone is here,” he extended his arm toward the conference room, “why don’t we go ahead and begin.”
Evelyn spun on her four inch stiletto heels, her black hair as tightly confined in a chignon as her borderline anorexic body was in the red dress she wore. Two serious looking suits flanked her, following her through the door. Trigg motioned to Bridget. She started toward him, but I held onto her a moment longer. I wasn’t done yet. I tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. She was a breath of fresh air, a natural beauty that had drawn me in from the beginning, the complete opposite of her stepmother.
“Don’t let her get to you.” I kissed her cheek. “She’s jealous. That much is obvious. And she should be. You’re beautiful, Bridget. Outside and inside. Her beauty is shallow and superficial. And it’s already fading because of the rottenness in that dark soul of hers. You’ll only get more and more beautiful as time passes, like your Meemaw. She knows that. That’s why she’s jealous, and that’s why she wants so badly to try to destroy you.”
“It’s time,” Trigg told her. “Remember to stick to the plan. Evelyn’s got no leg to stand on.”
Bridget turned to look at me just before she crossed the threshold. “Take care of Carter.”
“Always.” I smiled reassuringly.
After the doors shut, we waited. I could feel the tension growing as the minutes trickled slowly by. Deciding we could both use a little distraction, I engaged Carter in a spirited discussion about superheroes. I’d just about convinced him that Superman could take any of the others when a tall blond man strode in, acting like he owned the place.
I felt Carter go rigid at my side.
“Renee,” he greeted the attractive brunette secretary.
She looked up from her monitor and came right to attention. “Good morning, Mr. Gilmore. Mrs. Dubois said to send you right in as soon as you arrived.”
I put my hand on my little buddy’s back and sized up Carter’s biological father. His appearance at this juncture wearing an expensive grey mélange Burberry suit wasn’t a coincidence. The whole thing was obviously an ambush.
I squeezed Carter’s shoulder. “Stay right here, Champ.”
His eyes wide, Carter pressed his lips tight together and nodded once.
“Hey, Dick,” I called out as I moved to intercept him. “Hold up.”
He turned on his Salvatore Ferragamo loafers, his eyes narrowing on me before sliding over my shoulder. “Hello, Carter.” His chin dipped. “I see your mother finally took you to get a haircut. It’s about time.”
What a fuckstick, I thought, pulse blaring in my ears. I was so primed to kick his ass, and had been since Bridget first told me about him that day in the Granville Marketplace. “Is that any way to treat your own son?”
Richard smirked. “What’s it to you, pretty boy?”
“The name’s Justin Jones.”
“And that should mean something to me why?” he asked snidely.
“No reason really, except that I made a promise to myself a while back, and now I intend to keep it.”
I heard the secretary gasp as I closed the gap between us. I shoved him back abruptly with both hands. He was bigger and bulkier than me, but I didn’t really care. I was pissed.
“Whoa,” he said straightening his tie, his mouth forming a smug smile. It was easy to see he was the type who got off on confrontational shit like this. Anger and adrenaline flared behind his blue gaze. He took a step toward me, but held up when the conference room doors suddenly swung open.
“Richard.” Evelyn sounded exasperated as she looked us both over. She waved him inside. “Get in here. We’ve been waiting on you.”
Gilmore gave me a dismissive snort and followed orders. Apparently stepmom had him by the short hairs.
I was ready to pursue our little discussion inside the conference room. I might well have, too, but just then Carter grabbed my hand, and I remembered my promise to Bridget earlier. I knew that Carter needed me right now more than she did. Besides, Maurice Trigg was already moving to close the doors.
“Stand down,” he warned, shaking his head. “Don’t you think I expected something like this?”
The bitch returned to her seat at the head of the glossy dark conference table, her lapdog in tow. She smiled smugly at me through blood red lipstick. I wasn’t sure what other nasty surprises she had in store, but Richard’s presence here certainly wasn’t just for show.
Maurice patted my hand. He didn’t seem to be worried, but my stomach was churning. I did my best to ignore it, squaring my shoulders, and trying to maintain a look of indifference.
Richard laid his large hands on the surface of the mahogany table and stared at me from
his vantage across it. It made me ill to think that I’d once let those hands roam all over my body. Tall, tanned, and muscular, he was as absurdly handsome as ever. But behind those looks was a heart as black as Evelyn’s. After all, those same strong hands that had once caressed me had shaken me hard enough to rattle my teeth the night before Carter and I had fled to Vancouver.
“Shall we begin, then?” The latches on Maurice’s briefcase clicked open and he withdrew a stack of documents. “Evelyn, I need you to sign a few papers. It’s really just a formality. The terms of the trust are quiet clear.”
“I won’t be signing anything.” Evelyn’s tone was icy, devoid of emotion, and full of authority. She accepted a stack of papers from one of her own attorneys and passed them along to Maurice.
He began to thumb through them, but she didn’t wait for him to respond.
“Bridget, you have a decision to make.” Her gaze bored into mine. “The company or your illegitimate spawn.”
I sucked in a breath. A wave of nausea washed over me at the thought of losing my precious son.
“You have to decide today. Right now. Because I promise you that if you fight me on this one, I’ll drag you both through the courts. When everyone finds out that you’re a slut and an addict, they’ll realize how unfit you are to be a mother, and Richard will easily win custody.” She rolled a pen across the table toward me, confident that I would cave in.
Once upon a time, not so long ago, I would’ve done it. I would’ve picked up that pen, signed those papers, and then slunk out of there like some beaten dog.
But I wasn’t that lost, frightened little creature that she remembered. I’d changed. I’d learned that I could make it on my own, even I’d had to crawl forward on my knees most of the way. I’d kicked a drug habit, escaped from an abusive relationship, and gotten a GED, a college education, and a paying job. I was a survivor. I had some of my Meemaw’s fighting spirit flowing through me. All it took for me to realize that was finding someone who brought it to the surface with his faith and love.
Enticing Interlude (Tempest #2) Page 17