Chapter 3
Stepping back, Wade cleared his throat. The air thickened, and the attorney’s welcome faded.
Claire looked delicate in the midmorning light, her curly waves glinting a golden hue, her green eyes wide with a tumult mirroring his own.
His touch had lingered longer than necessary.
Perhaps because of her warmth beneath his fingertips, and he needed all the warmth, right?
He breathed in deep, unsure of what to do with his hands after letting her go. Even calling her by her nickname, a reminder to her to be careful, couldn’t still his pulse.
His stomach fluttered. The once little girl he’d known with pigtails and braces had transformed into an attractive woman over the years.
He’d been a foolish twenty-four-year-old when she’d kissed him and he kissed her back, savoring her soft lips.
He’d had to make things straight with her, afraid to mislead her.
With the way his pulse raced now, though, the feelings he’d tried to bury years ago intruded.
Yes, he was the one who needed to be careful not to get entangled with her. She was sweet and dangerous for his heart in the best possible way—an intriguing path he wasn’t in the position to wander.
“Are you okay?” His voice rasped.
The surprise on her face melted into a fragile sadness. She flattened her lips together and gave a curt nod. “Thanks.” Her cheeks tinged before she knelt to retrieve her fallen handbag.
He straightened the chair. His gaze betrayed him, unable to stray from her.
A current stirred between them, unspoken but undeniable.
He noticed everything—how her hair fell over her shoulder, how her familiar scent of vanilla and lavender surrounded him, how her breaths raised her chest. It felt close. Too close to home.
“Mr. Stone, glad you could join us.” The attorney extended his hand, his dark skin catching the natural light from the windows. “I appreciate you meeting with me.”
“Of course.” Wade gripped Guy’s hand before taking the seat beside Claire. The leather chair creaked under his weight.
As Guy sifted through folders from his desk, Wade refocused on Claire. “How are you?”
“Okay.” She fiddled with her handbag, popping her knuckles—a nervous gesture.
“And John? Bella?”
Her gaze flicked up. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. Weariness dimmed their usual sparkle. “Dad’s good. Bella too.”
“Have you been sleeping?” Not that he could offer a solution, but asking wouldn’t hurt.
“I’ve been managing.”
His stomach twisted. “I’m sorry. I should’ve checked on you both sooner. It’s just been… a lot.”
Strain etched her smile. “Life happens.” She covered her mouth, and the next words came muffled through a yawn. “You’ve got your own things to deal with.”
An uncomfortable silence settled in as Guy flipped papers from the folder. Why had he summoned Wade? Yes, he’d been Albert’s best friend, but spending most of his time in LA limited their visits to a few per year.
Guy slapped his hand over an envelope like it contained the weight of the world. “Before we start, Wade, would you like some coffee? Water?”
“I’m good, thanks.” He rested his palms on his thighs.
“All right, then.” Guy drummed his fingers on the folder. “Did Albert mention anything to either of you about his will?”
“No,” they spoke simultaneously.
Claire faced Wade, a crease forming between her brows. She still had such flawless light-brown skin. “I didn’t even know he had a will.”
“Right?”
“There’s a letter.” Guy slid out a folded paper from the brown envelope and took a breath.
“As you know, you were Mr. Khumalo’s closest family.
” He inclined his head toward Claire, then Wade.
“And his best friend. So you’ve been named as his sole beneficiaries.
At his request, I’ll let you both read this. I’ve scanned and uploaded a copy.”
Wade leaned back in his chair. Sole beneficiaries? What could Albert possibly have left them? His palms grew damp, and he pressed them against his knees to steady himself.
Guy projected an image to his desktop screen and turned it their way. Albert’s loopy print, stark against the white background, demanded to be read.
Hey, Hollywood, and hello to my beautiful sis.
I’m sure you’re wondering why a guy like me, who never plans anything, wrote a will.
Did I know I was going to die at thirty-seven?
Nope. But when Sammy passed and left me with a newborn to raise, my perspective shifted.
Especially after Sammy’s parents threatened to take Bella away.
Thanks to you, Hollywood, I got to keep my little girl.
Wade’s heart pounded. Too easy to recall that tense time. He’d made calls and worked behind the scenes to ensure Albert wouldn’t lose his daughter.
What I’ve done here is, in my mind, nothing short of logical, and I hope you’ll see it that way too.
Hollywood, you’re not just my best friend.
You’re my brother. You’ve looked out for Claire as if she were your flesh and blood.
I have no doubt you’d do anything for my daughter, for my dad, and for me—even for Mom and Sammy before they passed.
You know me better than anyone—no offense, Claire.
Just like you told Wade your dark secrets, there were some things I couldn’t share with my baby sister.
Wade, when Mom died and then Sammy, I couldn’t have survived the pain without your support, both emotional and, let’s be honest, financial.
Claire, you have a heart of gold, and how blessed I am to have a sister like you.
You ditched your once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to go sailing in Greece on that bridal show.
You could’ve made a lot of money selling your jewelry to all the brides eager to spend, but you stayed, moving into our tiny house.
I love you both more than I can ever say.
Wade’s gaze flickered over to Claire, whose eyes glistened, her face reflecting her struggle to hold back tears. The room felt suffocating, every word binding him to a promise he hadn’t even made yet.
Bella is my greatest gift, and because of her, you’re here today.
Wade, I leave you the Elk Shop and my skis.
Mine were always better than yours, by the way, and that’s why I beat you down the slopes every single time.
Sell the shop if you want, but whatever you get, add it to the account I’ve set up for Bella—of course, that’s after you pay for a trip so Claire can go sailing.
Claire, you both wouldn’t want my three-bedroom house, but Bella needs a place to call home.
Someday, you should sell the house and pay back the remaining mortgage if still any.
Dad always wanted to move into The Summit at Sunshine Manor with his pals, but if you’re reading this and he hasn’t moved yet, senior living arrangements can wait.
Wade’s fingers dug into his knees. His whole body braced as he sensed the shift in the tone. His reading slowed, almost afraid to progress from one word to the next.
Now, here’s the biggie. Any chance you two could end up together?
Claire, I know you’re throwing pans at me from wherever you’re sitting, but you’ve always had a torch for Wade.
And, Hollywood, don’t act all content with your single life.
I saw you look at Claire at my wedding like she was the last woman on earth.
Life is full of blind curves, and who am I to say if it’s the right direction?
But sometimes, we can’t see past the boxes we put ourselves in.
And maybe now, without me around, you two can find your way to each other while you raise Bella.
In case it isn’t crystal clear, I appoint Wade Stone and Claire Khumalo as Arabella Khumalo’s guardians—her parents.
See you on the other side,
Albert
Wade’s stomach tied in knots, despite Alfred’s humor attempts. Parent Bella. Him? No. He barely managed to keep a romantic relationship for more than a couple of months, let alone raise a child.
Guy then shut down the monitor screen, his hands folded over Albert’s original handwritten letter. “Do you have any questions?”
Wade couldn’t look at Claire, couldn’t find the right words. She wouldn’t understand his hesitation. It was in her nature to do the right thing at all costs. She was loyal to a fault. “He didn’t just say I’m… I’m supposed to be a parent.”
“Guardian.” Guy leaned forward. “Or whatever you’re comfortable calling it.”
“Right.” Wade’s chest tightened. He could feel it. Claire was staring at him, puzzled.
The room kept closing in. He needed to breathe, to think.
But how could he while suffocating? The chair scraped against the floor when he stood.
He strode toward the window facing Main Street.
Outside, the town pulsed with life, oblivious to the heartbreak unfolding within these office walls.
“Albert knew… he knew I’m not cut out for this. I can’t—”
“Albert chose you.” Guy’s voice sounded a thousand miles away.
Wade turned back, his gaze dropping to the family photos on Guy’s desk—the smiling faces probably of Guy’s wife and kids. Family. It was everything, and Wade? Yes, he loved his family, his nieces and nephews. He loved being the fun uncle as long as he wasn’t the permanent adult left in charge.
“What’s next?” Claire asked, clearly already embracing the idea.
“A caseworker will be assigned to Bella’s welfare.” Guy detailed the legal terms and obligations, but Wade’s focus drifted to the one word. “They’ll check in periodically to ensure she’s in a stable environment.”
Caseworker. He spun around. That word. While he was grateful caseworkers served a good purpose, hearing the term took him back to a time he’d rather forget—being shuffled from home to home.
“Why—” He cleared his throat as his voice emerged sharper than intended.
“Why would a caseworker have to be involved?”
“If Bella doesn’t have a stable home, they’ll place her elsewhere.”
“Not happening.” Wade clenched his fists to his side. “She already has a home.” With Claire and John.
“You don’t have to do anything, Wade.” Her quiet voice broke through his panic. “I’ve got her. Bella is fine.”
But he couldn’t leave it all on her shoulders. Albert left this to him, not just financially, not just out of convenience, but because he believed in Wade, saw something Wade struggled to see in himself. How easy the chaos of Hollywood now appeared in comparison.
“If you’re both okay with this arrangement”—Guy slid a pen across the table—“I need your signatures on these forms.”
Claire didn’t hesitate, signing her name with a firm resolve.
On his turn, Wade moved back and slumped into the chair. He stared at the dotted line, pen in hand. This form held more weight than any contract he’d ever signed. He could take care of Bella financially, could ensure she had the best of everything. But being a real guardian?
He closed his eyes, and Albert’s voice echoed in his mind: “You love my family as your own.” He could almost see Albert’s familiar grin, his calm demeanor, and his confidence. The ease in his expression was as if he’d known Wade was capable all along.
With a deep breath, Wade signed his name by Claire’s, his hand shaking. Surely, Albert knew he barely managed to hold a relationship, let alone take on the responsibility of a child. The signature meant another commitment, a major one that would take precedence over any other task on his agenda.
He wasn’t sure how to handle the matter, but Mom would know what to do.
Today, their normal lunch engagement would become a therapy session.
He’d driven here straight from the airport and would need to head back to LA as soon as he met with Mom.
Before he met with her, though, he and Claire had to lay out the ground rules for their new arrangement.