31. Adair #2
A man with neatly combed silver hair and a sharp suit stands behind a desk. Anders Blankenship. He looks exactly as I’d imagined—dignified, intimidating, and a little mysterious.
“Dr. Matthews, Ms. Carpenter,” he says, extending a hand to Parker first and then to me. “Please, have a seat.”
We sit side by side, still holding hands beneath the table. Parker sits tall, though I notice the way his shoulders are drawn tight. I'm a tightly coiled spring myself, with every single nerve on edge.
It’s only been a few weeks, but I guess pressure-cooked romance leaves a mark.
Blankenship sits back, folding his hands on the polished wood of his desk. “I’ve reviewed the report from Paul’s visit to Palm Beach,” he begins, his deep voice measured and deliberate.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze.
“Paul was tasked with assessing the authenticity of your marriage,” Blankenship continues. “As I’m sure you know, this inheritance stipulation was very clear.”
I keep my expression neutral .
“His observations were thorough,” Blankenship adds, glancing down at a neatly organized folder in front of him. “He noted the ease with which the two of you interacted, the subtle, unspoken language between you both. However, he also noted the tension, particularly from Ms. Carpenter.”
I stiffen slightly, but Parker’s hold on my hand tightens reassuringly.
Blankenship looks at me directly. “Ms. Carpenter, Paul’s report indicates that your feelings for Parker are genuine, but that you seem to have reservations about this inheritance arrangement.”
I nod, my throat dry. How did Paul pick up on that? No sense in lying now. “I didn’t understand why the stipulation existed. Parker is an excellent doctor and…” My eyes flick over to him, and I soften.
"He's an amazing husband. But sending someone to snoop on him came across as weird, I guess, for lack of a better word.”
“And yet,” he says, leaning forward slightly, “it seems that despite your reservations about the stipulation, what you have is undeniably real.”
My ribcage locks up.
Parker clears his throat. “What exactly is this meeting about? We flew here on a red-eye. Now I want answers.”
Blankenship folds his hands on the desk. His expression doesn’t change, but there’s a slight gleam in his eye now, like this is the part he’s been waiting for.
“I’m saying,” he begins, “your father’s attempt to manipulate this process was expected.”
Parker leans forward. “Expected?”
Blankenship nods. “Roger saw it coming. In a sealed amendment, he instructed us to observe how you'd handle any interference, particularly from your father. ”
My brows lift. “So it was a test?”
“Not of your relationship,” Blankenship says. “Of Parker’s independence. Roger needed to know he wasn’t under Leeland’s thumb anymore.”
Parker is still.
Blankenship goes on. “The loophole? It was intentional to appear as a loophole that was not one at all. Your uncle left enough ambiguity in the language to tempt someone looking to exploit it. He figured if anyone could sniff it out, it would be Leeland. And he was right.”
I glance at Parker, but he’s staring straight ahead, jaw clenched.
Blankenship offers a faint smile. “But you didn’t take the bait. You didn’t end the marriage. You didn’t run to your father or let him run the show. You honored the agreement. More importantly, you honored her.”
He turns to me with a respectful nod.
“That’s why, as of this morning, you are the sole and rightful heir to Roger Matthews’ estate. Every provision, every asset. It all transfers to you, effective immediately.”
The words hit like a sonic boom.
“What?” Parker breathes, his voice barely audible.
I blink, trying to process.
Parker laughs, I’m guessing out of the absurdity and brilliance of it all. The disbelief is giving way to something else. Pride. Peace. Maybe even closure.
Blankenship nods. “Congratulations, Dr. Matthews. You passed your uncle’s final test. He always said he’d bet on you.”
Because Anders Blankenship is right. What Parker and I have is real. No doubt, it’s messy and unexpected, and a bit chaotic. And the sex is unreal. But it’s real.
Parker stands, shaking Blankenship’s hand with a firm grip. “Thank you,” he says, his voice still carrying a hint of astonishment.
Blankenship offers a small smile. “You’ve earned it. And I trust you’ll put it to good use.”
Parker nods, and then we’re ushered out of the office, my head still spinning as we make our way back to the limo waiting outside.
As we step into the car, Parker slides in beside me, his hand once again finding mine. He’s still silent, his brow furrowed in thought.
“You okay?” I ask gently, nudging him with my shoulder.
He turns to me, his lips curving into a slow, genuine smile. “I think so,” he says. “It’s just… I can’t believe it. Roger was something else. I wish you could have known him.”
“I love that he did this,” I admit, a laugh bubbling out of me. “What touches me the most is they studied us and they saw what I see in you.”
His gaze softens, and he lifts our joined hands to his lips, brushing a light kiss over my knuckles.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For coming. For trusting me.”
I squeeze his hand. “And you didn’t give up on me. Even when I made it hard.” He pulls my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles.
I lean into him, the weight of the past month finally sliding off my shoulders.
What started as a lie turned into something too real to fake.
And tonight, I’m done pretending.