Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
I don’t know if it’s possible to die from the off-gassed fumes of furniture polish and cologne, but I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread in this lawyer’s office.
The business at hand is settling my father’s estate, and it’s a good thing there’s an expansive desk between me and the custom-suited asshole who handled his legal affairs because I might actually resent him as much as I did my father.
“Well,” the attorney says, his manicured, fat fingers tapping the mountain of documents he had me sign until my hand cramped. “I think that does it. You are a very fortunate woman, Ms. Alexander.”
“Again, it’s Ms. Carrigan. As I explained when I arrived, I took my mother’s name after she rescued me. I wouldn’t think it would be so hard to remember that, given the number of times you’ve watched me sign that name this evening.”
“Or when she stole you, depending on perspective.” Before I can launch myself over the desk to rip out his jugular, he says, “At any rate, you are a very wealthy young woman now, Jewel. May I call you Jewel and forgo the issue of your rightful last name versus your chosen one?”
“Doesn’t really matter what you call me at this point. I can’t imagine we’ll ever need to speak again.” I stand and take my coat from the back of the stiff chair.
“Like I said, I will be happy to remain the registered agent for the corporation and continue to manage the assets.” He gets up and starts around the desk. “There are quite a few. . . well, intricately structured entities in the portfolio.”
“I’m sure I can find someone smart enough to sort the details for me. Selling it all first chance I get, anyway, so there won’t be anything left to manage soon.”
“That could get complicated.”
“My whole life’s been complicated. If any questions come up, I’ll be in touch.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Don’t hold your breath.
I walk quickly through his office and past the firm’s receptionist, hoping he won’t follow. He doesn’t, but I still frantically press the button for the elevator like I’m the next victim in a horror movie.
Inside the steel box, I take my first full breath in hours. It’s done. My evil father is truly gone, and I’m about to liquidate everything he worked so hard for, to erase his name from the only things that ever mattered to him: property and possessions.
Two years too late for my mom to see it. She should’ve outlived him. So much about her life should’ve been different.
I blink away tears. As someone who believed her mother was dead until I was sixteen, losing her for real at twenty-four had felt like grieving her second death. And that was twice as many times as I should’ve had to feel that pain.
So, where Donovan Alexander is concerned, I’m all grieved out. If anyone deserved to die more than once, it was that bastard, not her.
I realize I’m white-knuckling the folder filled with my copies of all the documents I spent the last three hours discussing and signing, and I’m besieged by the same thought I had when I walked up to this building: Does Gareth Branson still have his office here?
I’d ignored the directory in the lobby when I arrived because if I’d found his company listed, there’s no way I would’ve been able to concentrate during the meeting with my father’s henchman attorney, but the pull to look before I leave is too strong to ignore.
There it is. brANSON ARCHITECTURAL he may not remember it at all. Regardless of his memories, he may not be able, or willing to tell me what I want to hear.
But I’ve never needed to be fucked into oblivion more than I do right now. My thoughts of him have been twisted and tangled for so long.
Fuck me, Gareth. Unravel me. Yeah, maybe I won’t lead with those exact words . . . what the hell am I going to say to him?
My mind is still struggling to come up with something reasonable as I approach the door. The woman rushing out is obviously thinking of something else as well. We collide and end up clutching each other and apologizing in surround sound.
“I’m here to see Gareth Branson,” I manage to say, though I can’t hear myself over the thudding of my heartbeat in my ears. “Has he left for the day?”
“No, he’s still here. I didn’t realize he had a late appointment scheduled.”
“Oh, he’s not expecting me right now.” Great. Just introduce yourself as a stalker. “My flight got delayed so we rescheduled, but traffic was better than I expected, so I thought I’d run over and see if I could catch him.”
“Well, you’re in luck. His office is to the right, in the corner.”
“I remember.” My eyes follow the path that leads to him. “Thank you.”
She locks us in and heads for the elevator. No turning back now. It’s time to catch up with Mr. B, for better or worse.