Chapter 2
Bart bit back a chuckle that wanted to fly from his mouth. He arched a brow. “Your mother just said it.”
A blush filled her cheeks. “It’s Isobel, actually.” She tugged on the book he still held. “May I have this please?”
He released the book and nodded toward Margaret, who’d maneuvered her wheelchair beside the bench. She was deeply invested in a one-sided conversation. “She cheers him up.”
Izzie’s eyes darted toward her mother. “She loves talking to him, even if he can’t answer. But I think he does, in his own way.”
Lawrence blinked faster as Margaret laughed at her own joke.
Bart’s smile widened. “I think you’re right.
” He folded his strong arms across his chest and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
His voice lowered to a murmur. “The stroke left him a shell of his former self. You read to him, don’t you? ”
Izzie glanced at him and tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. “Mom forgets a lot since her accident, so I read her some of the books she used to love reading.” Her smile was soft and warm, drawing his attention as she continued. “I think he likes them, too.”
Bart leaned a little closer toward her, causing her to stumble back a step. His smile remained as he murmured. “Thank you.”
“For—for reading to them? It’s a little thing.” She touched her hair again, her eyes darting away. She was nervous around him, and he couldn’t deny that it gave him a small sense of satisfaction.
Her eyes bounced to meet his then away before Izzie hurried to Margaret. She dropped onto the bench between her mother’s wheelchair and Lawrence. “Alright. I only have thirty minutes. Let’s see if Darcy finally admits he’s in love with Elizabeth.”
Bart watched with rapt curiosity as the beautiful red-head dove into the story she held at her lap. The nurse had mentioned Lawrence had a new friend. He hadn’t expected to come across her so soon, nor that she’d have a beautiful daughter.
He rubbed his jaw then turned around in search of a chair.
There was a vacant one that sat beside a table not too far from where his uncle seemed to have perked up.
It was amazing, the effect she had on him.
Bart settled into the chair and leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees.
His hands dangled over the edge of his legs as he listened to her voice.
She had a natural kind of prettiness about her that he didn’t see all that often over at the casino.
Her auburn hair glinted in the sunlight and her eyes seemed to flash with a shrewd sense of intelligence.
Most of the women who ended up coming through the doors to his world seemed to wear too much makeup and wear clothes that revealed a little too much.
Granted, a good majority of those he spent time with were performers in the theater his uncle had put in shortly before his stroke.
Izzie wasn’t like them at all. If he had to compare her mannerisms to someone, the closest person he could come up with would be that princess who got locked away with that beast.
And just like that, the thirty minutes were up. Izzie hopped up from her place on the bench, grabbed her mother’s wheelchair, and reminded her to say her goodbyes.
Bart got to his feet, stepping into her path.
She stopped abruptly, causing her mother to lurch slightly.
Margaret twisted in her seat and gave her daughter a look.
“Careful, Izzie. You nearly ran over this nice young man.” She turned around and looked up at him. “She can be in such a hurry sometimes.”
Why did he just block her? What was he going to say? Don’t go? That would have sounded weird. He offered Margaret a smile and stepped out of the way. “It was completely my fault. Sorry.” He met Izzie’s guarded expression. “I’ll see you around sometime, Izzie.”
“It’s Isobel,” Izzie murmured as she walked past.
He turned, watching her walk away. Did he do something wrong?
Usually, the women he interacted with were more…
more what exactly? Flirty? Warm? But not Izzie.
She was more consumed with something else.
Maybe it had something to do with her mother.
Serious. That’s what it was. Someone as young as she appeared to be didn’t need to be so serious.
It made him want to know exactly what was going on in her life to make her so somber.
His brows furrowed as he turned toward his uncle.
Lawrence had that blank stare on his face again.
The little bit of coherency he’d shown when he was with Margaret was now gone.
There was something about the Davis women that had woken him up to a small degree—one more reason he wanted to get to know them more.
Bart wandered over to his uncle and groaned as he settled onto the bench beside him. “How are you feeling today, Uncle Lawrence?”
Of course he wouldn’t answer. He hadn’t spoken a word since he’d had his stroke.
The most they ever got was facial expressions.
Bart leaned back and draped his arm on the bench behind his uncle.
“I have a buyer for all but one of your casinos. Everything should close by the end of next month if it goes according to plan. I’m keeping your first one, though.
And all profits will go to the charities you supported. ”
He glanced at his uncle out of the corner of his eye.
Nothing. No acknowledgement of their conversation.
Bart sighed. He didn’t even know why he talked.
It seemed strange. Uncle Lawrence hadn’t even really spent much time with him when he was younger.
Being given all of his uncle’s holdings had been a shock not only to his mother but to the rest of the family.
“So, what do you think of those Davis women?”
His uncle didn’t react.
“Margaret seems nice. She talks a lot though.”
Bart could have sworn his uncle’s mouth twitched. But he must have been mistaken. Lawrence didn’t move. Just like always. “I bet you like listening to Izzie as much as I did. I hope she comes back and reads to you often. That was really nice of her.”
His gaze swept through the property, bouncing from resident to resident before he shifted his focus once again to his uncle.
“I have a meeting with Isaac later today. I think he wants me to remain on the board for this place.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“But I don’t know if I want any of this.
” Bart heaved a sigh and shifted, leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees.
“This isn’t the life I had expected to lead.
But I feel like if I don’t stick around, your legacy will be lost.”
Bart glanced at his uncle out of the corner of his eye once more. What was he thinking? This conversation wasn’t going to do a lick of good. He could be reading to his uncle from the stocks in the newspaper and he’d get the same effect.
No one else in his family bothered to visit Lawrence. It was like they’d all washed their hands of the man when they found out he hadn’t given any of his wealth to them.
He stared at his uncle. “Why?”
Lawrence blinked.
“Why did you pick me? I don’t get it. I have no idea what I’m doing. You should have asked someone else. Anyone else. Heck, Isaac would have been better at handling all of this.” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “I just wish I knew.”
Bart got to his feet and brushed off his suit pants. “I’ll see you again later this week, Uncle Lawrence. Have a good day.”
***
Bart sat in the familiar conference room where he’d spent a lot of his time over the last several months.
No one had come in to speak with him and he’d been there for at least twenty minutes.
Granted, this wasn’t a big board meeting.
It was just supposed to be a meeting between Isaac and himself, but for what, he didn’t know.
He pushed out his chair and walked over to the window. He wasn’t equipped to be the CEO of his uncle’s estate, so he’d kept Isaac on. Hopefully this didn’t have something to do with stepping down. Bart didn’t know if he could manage any of this without Isaac.
Placing both hands behind his back, he stared down at the street below him.
People hurried from place to place, unaware that they were probably constantly being watched.
They looked like a bunch of little worker ants, going about their days.
A sign outside of a convenience store below boasted the best soft serve frozen yogurt in town.
Maybe he’d get some before heading to the casino.
That used to be him. He’d been a substitute teacher for a local alternative high school before his uncle had ripped him from that world and placed him here. Things had changed so much over the last six months and as much as he wished he could go back, he knew he was in the right place.
The door to the conference room opened and he turned to find Isaac entering, a stack of folders in his arm.
He flashed Bart a smile and gestured toward the conference table.
“Take a seat.” Isaac was the epitome of a slick CEO.
His black hair was perfectly cut and styled without a single hair out of place.
His strong jaw didn’t need any facial hair to make him look intimidating.
And his steel blue eyes could hold any opponent in their place.
It wasn’t any wonder his uncle had hired him.
Bart strode toward the table and returned to his chair. Isaac sat in his usual place at the head. He pushed the folders across the table. “I just got these on my desk yesterday. Care to explain?” His gaze was steady, unnerving even, but not unhappy.
Leaning forward, Bart grabbed the folders and flipped the top one open. A quick cursory glance gave him all the information he needed. “Those are the contracts for the sale of the casinos. We discussed that they were to be sold months ago. This shouldn’t be a surprise.”
Isaac shook his head. “The sale, no. But the proceeds of the sale, yes. You failed to mention that the proceeds were in part going to Maple Gardens Assisted Living.”
Bart stilled. Had he done something wrong? He didn’t think charitable donations had to be approved. “Is that unacceptable?”
Isaac steepled his fingers in front of him and brought them to his chin. “No. On the contrary, it was very generous of you to think of them—us. When your uncle gifted me that facility, I was as surprised as any. But I assumed it was because he had a special place in his heart for me—and my mother.”
“How is Millie doing?”
A slow smile tugged at his lips. “You’re getting off subject. The reason I wanted to call you in here was to give you my thanks for your generosity. The amount of money you’re giving Maple Gardens would pay for your uncle’s treatment ten times over.”
“Well, you’re welcome. I know you’ll do better things with it.”
“I want you to know that we will not be charging you or your uncle for his care from this point forward.”
Bart straightened in his seat. “That’s not necessary. He has more than enough income to—”
Isaac held up his hand. “It’s done.”
Folding his arms tight against his chest, Bart huffed. “Well, if this is how you’re going to react to that donation, you might not be thrilled with what I have planned next.”
Isaac arched a brow but didn’t say a word.
“My uncle has more money and income than anyone in their right mind knows what to do with. There is no way I’d be able to spend a tenth of it even if I lived for twenty lifetimes.
As discussed, I’m keeping the first casino he bought.
But I will be giving all profits from that place to charity as well.
Don’t be surprised if a portion of that money finds its way to Maple Grove. Those residents need it more.”
Isaac chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I think? I think your uncle knew what he was doing when he left all of this to you,” he gestured around them. “You’re a good man, Bart, and I look forward to working with you.” Isaac stood and held out his hand, offering it to Bart.
Bart stared at it for a moment before he accepted it. “Thanks Isaac. I look forward to working with you, too.”