Chapter Twenty-Seven
Aiden
Violet didn’t resist when I opened the passenger door of her blue Volkswagen Beetle and ushered her inside. She buckled her seatbelt, closed the door, and leaned her head against the window, the glass fogging from her breath and the tears still streaming down her cheeks.
I didn’t even think about it. I pulled out of her parking garage and pointed her little car straight at Winters House.
My chest hurt worse every time her breath hitched.
I knew what it was to feel betrayed by your own family.
And I knew what it was to be on Chase’s side of things, making decisions and keeping secrets to protect the ones you loved.
I couldn’t fix what was wrong. That was between Violet and Chase.
I knew she’d forgive him, eventually. They were too close, and she loved him too much to hold a grudge forever.
On the other hand… I’d seen Violet play the avenging angel.
She’d infiltrated my company in the name of justice.
If she was mad enough at Chase, I was afraid to guess what she might do.
The garage was empty when we pulled in. Even Sophie’s car was missing. Sophie had originally joined our household as a live-in nurse for our great-aunt Amelia. She was married to Gage now, but she took her job seriously, and she loved Amelia, despite my great aunt’s crotchety, troublemaking ways.
When the weather was good, Sophie and Amelia liked to walk at the Arboretum and then go to our friend Annabelle’s coffee shop in the Virginia Highlands to have one of Annabelle’s sugar-free hot cocoas.
Amelia’s diabetes-friendly diet was a source of contention between her and Sophie. Amelia snuck sweets, and Sophie ferreted them out and confiscated them. Annabelle had developed the hot cocoa recipe for Amelia, and Amelia took advantage as often as she could. They would probably be gone for hours.
Mrs. W, our housekeeper since my childhood, and Abel, our cook, might be home, but they were both discreet enough to give us space if they thought we needed it.
I rounded the front of the Beetle and opened Violet’s door.
She sat there, slumped, seatbelt still buckled, staring blindly between her feet.
“Come on sweetheart,” I said, leaning over and unfastening her belt.
Docile, she allowed me to pull her from the car and slide my arm around her waist. I guided her through the mud room, past the family room and kitchen where she’d had the misfortune to meet my family the night before, past the dining room, to the two-story entry hall.
She barely looked around, just wiped under her eyes with the back of her hand and let me lead her up the staircase to the second floor.
The upper level of Winters House was smaller than the main floor.
It housed only two bedroom suites, Gage’s and mine.
Both suites had a sitting room, bedroom, dressing room, and bath.
Gage’s wasn’t small, but mine, as the master suite, was bigger than most homes.
Before so much of my family had moved back, it felt cavernous.
Now I was grateful for the space and privacy.
Violet didn’t truly take in her surroundings until I sat her on the edge of the bed and leaned down to tug off her shoes. Dropping my suit coat over an armchair, I urged her back onto the bed and joined her, pulling her into my arms and tucking her head against my shoulder.
“Sorry,” she whispered into my shirt. “I’ll stop in a minute.”
“You don’t have to stop,” I said into her hair. “Cry if you want to. I’d be pissed as hell if I were you. And hurt.”
“I hate crying,” she said, her voice wobbly.
“It makes me all snotty.” She gave a wet sniffle.
I sat up a little and leaned across her to grab a tissue off the bedside table.
Violet took care of her runny nose, then settled back against me, her breath still jagged, tears still leaking from her eyes, soaking into my dress shirt.
I rubbed her back and searched for something to say. I came up empty. I didn’t have anything comforting to offer. She wouldn’t want to hear what I was thinking.
I understood Chase. I’d done plenty of fucked up things in the name of protecting my family.
I’d screwed up Annalise’s relationship with Riley when she was in college.
Screwed it up so badly it took them over a decade to find one another again.
She’d forgiven me, partly because it was as much Riley’s fault as it was mine, but I’d still fucked up.
And it hadn’t been that long ago that Charlie had stopped speaking to me because I’d fired her. Maybe it had been for the best, but it was still an asshole move, and I knew it at the time. It hadn’t stopped me then and probably wouldn’t stop me now.
I knew all about making hard decisions to protect your family. Chase had known about us all these years and hadn’t made a single attempt to get in touch.
He’d looked after his little sister. He’d taken her in when her parents cut her off, gave her a place to live, a job. Loved her. Supported her. Yeah, he’d fucked up not telling her she was adopted. Violet had a right to know.
Still, I knew why he kept his mouth shut. He hadn’t wanted to see that look in her eyes the moment she realized that everything she knew about her family was a lie.
Violet’s breath evened out and I looked down to see her eyes closed, her pale lashes fanned across her flushed cheeks, spiky with tears. My phone beeped. I pulled it from my pocket to check the screen. Gage.
Where are you?
Tapping with one finger I wrote back, Home.
With Violet?
Y
That was a cluster fuck. We rescheduled the meeting for tomorrow. Want you there. She’s staying at W H?
Y
No comment from Gage. I wasn’t sure Violet would be willing to stay. If she was uncomfortable being at Winters House, I’d check us back into the Intercontinental. Or see if Jacob had an empty unit in his building. I knew she wasn’t going back to Chase’s condo anytime soon.
Making a decision, I eased away from Violet and got off the bed. She didn’t move when I unsnapped her jeans and slid them down her legs. When I reached beneath her T-shirt to unfasten her bra and tugged the straps down her arms, she only sighed and turned into the pillow.
We hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and she was emotionally exhausted. I pulled the covers over her body, drew the curtains and wrote a short note. Setting it on the pillow beside her, next to her phone, I left the room, shutting the door behind me.
I found Mrs. W in her office by the kitchen, looking down at a notepad and chewing on the end of the pencil.
Her hair in a bun, her dark dress without a wrinkle, she was almost identical to the young woman who’d joined our staff at eighteen, not long before my aunt and uncle died.
There were a few threads of gray in her dark hair and faint creases in the skin around her eyes and mouth, but otherwise, Helen Williamson defied the passing of the years.
With our parents dead, she was the closest thing we had to a mother, and every single one of us adored her.
Except for Aunt Amelia. Those two had been sworn enemies for decades, at least until Amelia’s penchant for pulling pranks had crossed the line a few weeks ago.
It turns out that when you hide a bullion cube in a shower head, the person who stands beneath smells like chicken soup for a few days afterward.
Mrs. W was not amused. When Abel, who we all suspected was sweet on her, pranked Amelia back, it seemed my great aunt decided to call a truce. The rest of us were relieved, but I wasn’t convinced the détente would last.
“When did you come home?” she asked, concern in her dark eyes. I was far more likely to work into the night than to show up in the middle of the day.
“Just a little while ago,” I said. “I brought someone with me. The woman I’ve been seeing, Violet Westbrook.
She’s had a shock, a family problem with her brother.
They live together, and she needed some space.
She’s sleeping in my room upstairs. I’m going to run to her place and get some of her things. ”
Anyone else would have pressed for more information, but Mrs. W was the soul of discretion.
She’d pull out her own fingernails before she’d ask any of us a personal question.
And even without poking at us, she managed to know every detail of our lives.
If she was curious about Violet, I knew she’d satisfy that curiosity without upsetting Violet or interrogating me.
All she said in response was, “Do you know how long she’ll be staying? Will she be with you, or should I prepare a guest room?”
“She’ll stay with me. As for how long she’ll be here, that depends.”
Mrs. W said nothing, only raised an eyebrow. To her, I said what I wasn’t ready to admit yet to Gage, or to Violet. To anyone else for that matter. “If I get my way, she’ll stay forever.”
Mrs. W pressed her lips together in a tight line and gave a nod.
She could be impossible to read. I knew she’d make up her own mind about Violet.
If she decided Violet didn’t measure up, she’d never say a word.
I was sure she’d hated my first wife, Elizabeth.
Sure because everyone had hated Elizabeth, and because Mrs. W’s response when I told her Elizabeth would be leaving was a simple and quiet, “It’s about time. ”
I wasn’t worried. Knowing Mrs. W and Violet, those two would be peas in a pod. Everyone else would be fine, too. Gage was the only Winters living in the house that worried me. The last thing Violet needed was my cousin giving her a hard time.
I headed out in Violet’s car and called Gage on his cell.
“Hey,” I said when he answered. “Violet’s sleeping. I’m going to get her stuff. When are we meeting with Chase?”
“Tomorrow morning. Nine. He was a mess after you left,” Gage said. “I feel bad for the guy.”
“I’m not admitting it to Vi, but yeah, I hear you.”