A Moment Like You

by Claudia Burgoa

  I stare at him, studying the man who’s been nothing but a fucking prick and a pain in the ass for the past few months. “I thought you weren’t his friend.”

  “I wasn’t, but I can tell you that he was once a different person from the man you knew. It doesn’t help your situation. I realize you see me as the antagonist of his twisted testament. Sadly, I’m just the messenger and nothing more. In my opinion, you should’ve looked into this agreement before you signed it. You should’ve been more responsible for your future. Did you know William let your grandfather dictate his future?”

  Taking a step back, I stare at him with wide eyes. I’m speechless. William was his own man, wasn’t he?

  “Until he took charge of it, and then…” Parrish glances toward the cemetery gates and then looks down at the grave. “Well, then he was mad at the world and made a lot of bad choices. Here are my two cents, use your head and not your anger. Show Ms. Edelstein that you can be a gentleman and try your best on this trial, not because you want to fall for her, but because you are Henry Aldridge and you always put one hundred percent into everything you do.”

  “What if she falls for me? She will fight this, and I will lose more than what I’ve lost already?”

  “She’ll be a casualty unless you fall for her,” he replies.

  “That’s unlikely to happen,” I respond because Sophia is the only woman for me. “Why are you being nice?”

  “Years ago, Cyril Merkel made a deal with Griffin Aldridge. His daughter, Debra Merkel, would marry his son, William Aldridge. When the time came, William avoided those nuptials. The problem was, there wasn’t anything in writing to force him. Your grandfather learned a valuable lesson. The next time he’d have a legal, enforceable agreement. But Cyril didn’t fail. At least a part of the Aldridge estate might belong to his heir.”

  “Wait, Cyril made a deal with my other grandfather?” So, he’s the one who fucked up, not my mother.

  He shrugs. “Yes. It didn’t surprise me to learn from the late William that Cyril got your deal in writing. In my opinion, the fact that Griffin tried to force William to marry was what made him snap.”

  “But I swear, you said you didn’t know him,” I insist.

  “No. I implied that I wasn’t his friend at the time he died. Be your own person, Henry. You are more than what they wanted you to be.” He looks at me in a way I can’t decipher and says, “You remind me of the old William. Don’t let this break you.”

  Twenty-Eight

  Henry

  Hayes calls us all into a meeting at The Lodge where Pierce and I updated everyone. Sophia excused herself. Her friends are here though, ready to punch me or worse, have me killed.

  “Do you have to live with her?” Hayes asks.

  “Yes,” Pierce is the one who takes over. “It’s part of the trial. How can they know if they are compatible when they’ve never shared a space?”

  “I wish we had an extra bedroom or a futon where she can stay,” I sigh.

  Beacon grins. “We can switch the futon I have in my studio for one of the fancy sofas.”

  “I love this kid,” Blaire says and then glares at me, “Unless you want her to stay in your bedroom.”

  “Listen, it’s not about how to make her life miserable. She didn’t choose this either.” I try to reason with them because even though she’s planning on fighting me, the woman didn’t have a choice about her future. Just like me.

  “I think Beacon’s idea is good, but a futon is for college kids. We could exchange it for a sofa-bed,” Hayes suggests.

  “What are you talking about?” Beacon asks innocently.

  Hayes glares at Beacon who says, “Fine. I’ll lend you my sofa-bed.”

  “What else do you have in there, kid?” I ask, and he shrugs.

  And where is it? Because I went to that studio, and I didn’t see a futon or a sofa-bed in there.

  “If you want to be nice, you can let her sleep in your bed and you can take the couch,” Vance suggests.

  “She’s not going to sleep in my woman’s bed. Sorry, that’s my hard limit.”

  “What’s going to happen with Sophia?” Vance asks.

  “She’s still the CEO of Aldry’s Sweets and works for me. Our relationship is on hold because there’s a prenup agreement in place during these three months.”

  “Wow, and I thought William was an asshole,” Mills says. “Your grandfather was worse than him. So, how is this going to work, because I’m not going to act as her servant.”

  “None of us are going to be serving her,” Leyla says in a firm tone. “If she’s planning on staying with us, she’s going to have to do her part in the house.”

  “I mean, if the fucking chickens have to provide eggs, she has to at least feed them,” I claim.

  Hayes laughs and Pierce says, “Not just any eggs, organic eggs. She better be as compliant as my girls.”

  “I don’t want her close to the kids,” Leyla protests.

  “Didn’t you hear these men, Lei?” Blaire gives her an annoyed look. “She has to do her part. It’s such a shame you don’t have cows. It’d be fun to watch her milk them. But she can walk Ally every other evening. Poppy is too nice to do anything bad. How about your stallion?”

  “She’d never be able to control Ally,” Leyla says appalled and looks at Pierce horrified.

  “Exactly,” Blaire says, as if it makes sense and is part of her perfect evil plan.

  Ally, the alpaca, is moody as fuck and only listens to Pierce and sometimes to Leyla, but not often.

  “I don’t want my girl near that woman,” Pierce is the one who protests this time. “Listen, I get that you want to kick her out of this town, but let’s not cause any emotional damage to my children. She can feed them and clean the barn. I think that’s plenty, don’t you?”

  While they are thinking of ways to make Martina’s life miserable, I’m searching for a marriage counselor online. Why in the world I need someone to help me with a relationship I’m not interested in pursuing is beyond me. We might need to hire someone who does consults via videoconference. I tune out their noise. It’s good to know they support me, but I have a lot more important things to worry about.

  The noise is interrupted by a long silence after someone knocks on the door. My pulse accelerates, as I hope it’s Sophia. Sadly, when Vance opens it, the person behind is Jerome Parrish.

  “Why is he here?” Blaire asks, staring at him.

  “He’s Martina’s lawyer too,” I announce.

  “Isn’t there some conflict of interest involved in this situation?” Hayes asks.

  Pierce shakes his head. “We called him to get a few things straight. He’s the executor of William’s will. His involvement with Martina Edelstein is a separate issue. As long as one doesn’t affect the second one, we don’t have a problem with it.”

  “It might be convenient that I’m involved in both so I can explain to Ms. Edelstein her role during this trial,” Mr. Parrish conveys.

  “Well, we emailed you a copy of Henry’s proposal to initiate the three-month trial. It was signed by Ms. Edelstein. Mr. Everhart and Blaire Wilson signed as witnesses. They agreed to start it today. That said, I want you to be aware that this isn’t considered a serious relationship. Meaning Ms. Edelstein can leave the town freely for any period of time—and it won’t affect the stipulations my father placed. However, if she decides to leave the town for more than one night, she'd be in violation of the stipulations set for this three-month trial and forfeit the agreement.”

  “I see that you’re being more thorough in your research, Pierce,” he says with an approving tone that makes me wonder what his angle is. “I’ll let my client know about the following steps.”

  “One more thing,” I call out before he leaves. “The prenup says I have to provide her with the necessary accommodations to make her comfortable. However, my father’s stipulations don’t allow us to hire the personnel she’s accustomed to.”

  “I’ll be hand
ing her a list of things that can and can’t be done during her trial and warning her of what will happen if she decides to leave the house.”

  “She’s not sleeping in my bedroom either,” I add since he’s going to have a conversation with her. “I don’t have a girlfriend. However, I am in love with a woman who deserves my respect.”

  “We don’t have enough room for her,” Blaire continues. “We’d understand if she decides to rescind the agreement.”

  “Ms. Edelstein plans on staying, but if something changes I’ll make sure to contact you and your lawyers. I’m heading back to New York.” He bows and before he leaves, he looks at Beacon. “We’re watching you.”

  “Good, because I’m watching you too.”

  “I know,” he says and leaves.

  “What are you doing?” I ask him.

  “I decided to hire a person to follow him,” he grins. “He wants to watch us? I’ll do the same.”

  “You could’ve warned us about this visit?”

  He rolls his eyes. “My dude, he comes often. You just don’t see him because he’s like a dark sentinel. I thought it was a routine visit. Who knew you had a side dish?”

  “Stop it,” I warn him. “I don’t care if you tease me, but before you do, please think of how this will make Sophia feel.”

  He raises his hands as if surrendering. “I promise to be mindful and to get my guy to dig deeper into Parrish’s life.”

  “That’d be good,” I agree and then tell them what happened when I was visiting William’s grave. All of them are speechless. Beacon agrees to dig into this guy’s life. There has to be something we’re missing and that might put us a step ahead of him.

  Twenty-Nine

  Henry

  Blaire is showing Martina around the house while Hayes, Vance, Pierce, and I are moving the furniture around. Mills and Leyla are in the indoor arena with Poppy and Arden. If there’s one thing my nephew loves, it is riding the mare. We’re hoping this new change doesn't affect him. Bringing a new person into the house just when we’re getting used to our situation is rough for us. I can’t imagine how it is for the poor little kid.

  “Why can’t I stay in your room?” Martina demands as we enter the house with the sofa-bed.

  “His back couldn’t afford to be on this for the next three months,” Hayes speaks up. “As his orthopedic doctor, I can’t allow him to sleep in this bed. Not with all the back issues and his age.”

  “He’s an old man,” Beacon informs her.

  Leave it to my brothers to find a way to fuck with me while giving me an alibi. Assholes.

  “Well, we can be in your room. Your bed is big enough for two people,” she suggests.

  “Listen, this is a trial, not a marriage. I don’t sleep with women.”

  “Right. I’ve heard a rumor that you don’t do sleepovers,” she says with a sigh. “When we get married, are we having separate bedrooms?”

  “When you’re ready,” Blaire diverts her attention. “You can move your bags to the television room though. The downstairs bathroom has a shower that you can use whenever you want. Just make sure to clean up after you’re done. Make sure you keep everything tidy because when we clean, we just shove what we find out of place into the baskets. Toys, dirty clothes, and shoes.”

  “What if it doesn't fit in either one of those categories?”

  “Then it goes into the trash bag,” Beacon is the one who informs her. “I know, because they’ve trashed my shit and going through the trash isn’t pretty.”

  Blaire continues explaining how we organize everything in the house and takes her to the chore board.

  “Well, I’m here because of him. Why do I have to do any chores?” she asks, shocked.

  “Because everyone has to pull their weight in this house,” I explain to her, not adding that even Sophia and G have chores, and they aren’t part of the household. “I’m hoping that Mr. Parrish brought you up to date about the do’s and don’ts according to my father’s testament.”

  “As I explained to him, it doesn’t pertain to me,” she says defensively.

  “If you don’t want to be a part of this house, you have two options,” I expand because it’s clear that she’s not going to put in any effort. “One is you can leave and explain that you can’t finish the trial and therefore forfeit the arrangement. The second option is...well, there’s no second option. You want to live here, you have to pull your weight too.”

  She glares at me and says, “Once we’re married you’re going to regret doing this to me.”

  The rest of the evening isn’t any better. At dinner time everyone leaves. There’s a note on the table that says:

  We’re heading to Sophia’s for dinner.

  It comes as no surprise to learn that they are choosing her, and I’m glad, but what am I supposed to do now?

  “On the board, it has Beacon’s name. Am I supposed to wait for him to cook?” Martina asks as she enters the kitchen.

  “No, he made other arrangements,” I inform her, trying not to sound bitter at the fact that they went to my girl’s house. I reach for the phone and announce, “I’m ordering pizza for us.”

  “I don’t eat carbs,” she complains.

  “What do you eat?”

  “Salads,” she answers. “You can get me one of those in this town, can't you?”

  If I was in the mood to fuck with her head, I’d take her to Tasty Corner, the diner where they deep-fry everything, even kale.

  “I’ll call my chef and have him prepare you a Caesar salad.”

  She scrunches her nose. “Make sure it doesn't have iceberg lettuce. That makes me…gassy. Also, have them put the dressing on the side and no anchovies.”

  “Then would you like me to ask for a different dressing?” I ask because surely, she knows that the traditional Caesar dressing comes with anchovies. Also, they use romaine lettuce.

  I’m not a chef, but it’s my job to know the basics of what’s served in my kitchens all over the world.

  “Well, I’m sure he can manage to prepare a vegan dressing. You pay him to do that, don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t pay him to do that. If you want a one hundred percent vegan salad, I’ll make sure he serves you that,” I answer and make the call. “Can you get me a prime rib, house dressing on the side, and a dinner size vegan salad with the dressing on the side. Also, send the usual chocolate-covered strawberries to Baker’s Lane.”

  “You’re not going to put me off by being an asshole with me,” she says after I give directions to the hostess to bring it to my house and to make sure the strawberries are sent every night to Sophia until further notice. “I grew up with my father and my brothers who might have a worse attitude than you. If my mother put up with Daddy for ten years, I can do the same with you.”

  “Why would you want to live with someone you can barely stand?”

  “What else am I supposed to do?”

  I look at her stunned because she believes that there’s no other option for her than to stick to this ridiculous arrangement. In order to what? Have money?

  “What do you do for a living?” I ask, wondering if there’s more to her.

  “I head charities, help Mom with some of her parties, and go out with my friends,” she states.

  “Who pays for your expenses?”

  “Daddy, but he’s going to cut me off the day we get married,” she states. “If I don’t marry, he’s still cutting me off. Now do you understand why this isn’t optional?”

  No, I don’t, because even in a world where I can buy pretty much everything and do whatever I want, I was also raised to work hard if I want to keep my status. Searching for someone to just support me is like…well, being a parasite. I’m sure that’s not the way she sees it. She learned from her parents who don’t know any better.

  When I raise my daughters, I’ll make sure they learn to earn everything they have and will need. I have no doubt their mom will help me with it. I can see Sophia waking them up e
arly and having them do their chores right after breakfast and before playtime.

  “Life is full of choices. You have options, and you should never resign to follow what someone else decided for you,” I speak from my own experience. “We’ll get through this three-month trial because that’s the only possible way I can get out of it. However, it might be wise for you to use this time to think about what you plan in the future.”

  “Mr. Parrish said that if you fall in love with me, the outcome will be in my favor.”

  “He’s right.” It’s all I say because I’m not going to share anything about myself or my feelings.

  It’s three months. I can do this without fucking up, right?

  Thirty

  Henry

  It’s Sunday, and the third day of this ridiculous trial. If Sophia was around, she’d be narrating everything and even keeping score. Unfortunately, she hasn’t come to the house at all. Everyone in this house misses her, even Buster and Daisy, Leyla and Pierce’s mutts. She’s not too close to those two. She’s not a fan of Buster, who brings her dead mice as presents, and Daisy ignores her most of the time.

  Martina on the other hand is beginning to understand that if she doesn’t help around the house, we don’t help her either. She also learned that leaving her dry cleaning on the floor can be counterproductive. Beacon put them in the washer and her clothes shrunk.

  “They hate me,” she says as I help her change the sheets of her bed. She didn’t care about fixing it today. Arden and the dogs came into the house with muddy clothes, boots, and fur. Needless to say, her entire bed suffered the consequences. “Even the dogs hate me.”

  “Give them time. They don’t know you,” I reassure her, because what else can I tell her?

  I'm not her keeper, and she’s an adult. She should be more responsible.

  “It’s not like I asked for this. Daddy just…he told me it was the best for me. What else can an art major do?”