5
Lawrence snatched the flowers from the vase, spilling water across my floor.
Then he left.
Richard watched the door close.
“Should I follow him?”
“For what?”
“He took your flowers.”
“I didn’t want them.”
Richard considered that. “Then he saved me a trip to the trash.”
I laughed despite myself.
He picked up a dish towel and crouched to wipe the water.
“You have people for that,” I said.
“I failed to bring my floor staff.”
I crouched beside him.
Our hands touched on the wet tile.
Richard looked at me, and the humor eased from his face.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Did he frighten you?”
“Lawrence rarely follows through long enough to become frightening.”
Richard’s fingers closed gently around mine.
“Kendra approached me at work.”
His expression changed. “When?”
“Last week.”
“What did she say?”
“That I’m a project. You’ll get tired of me.”
“She’s wrong.”
“You enjoy rescuing people.”
“I enjoy you.”
“You repair things. Cars. Programs. Families.”
“Veronica.”
“What happens when everything works?”
“I stay.”
The certainty in his voice quieted me.
I looked at our joined hands. His skin was warm. His fingers carried the slight roughness of age around the knuckles. A gold watch rested against his wrist.
“You’re sixty,” I said.
“I remain aware.”
“You have a grown daughter.”
“You’ve met Ayla.”
“She thinks I’m after your money.”
“She thinks everyone is after my money.”
“Are they?”
“Usually.”
I lifted my eyes. “Part of me is.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that like it doesn’t bother you.”
“It would bother me if money were all you saw.”
I studied his face.
It had become familiar. The creases near his eyes. The small scar beside his chin. The calm way he held my gaze. He smelled like cedar, soap, and the cologne I had once described as belonging to a divorced senator.
I leaned closer.
“You still smell old.”
“Your nose lacks sophistication.”
I kissed him.
His surprise lasted a breath. Then his hand came to my waist, slow enough to give me space. His mouth moved over mine with patience and restrained hunger. Heat climbed through me, settling low in my stomach.
Richard pulled back before I did.
His forehead rested against mine.
“Was that gratitude for the car repair?”
“Partial payment.”
“I should have replaced the transmission.”
“Greedy.”
“I learned from you.”
The charity dinner arrived three weeks later.
Richard bought me a red gown after I refused the first three options his stylist sent. The dress hugged my curves, dipped low across my back, and made me understand why wealthy women walked slowly.
Pauline came to my house to watch me get ready.
She sat on my bed while Kamani curled my hair and Tatum applied shimmer to my shoulders.
“Ask about the will,” Pauline said.
“I’m going to a charity dinner.”
“Death attends all income levels.”
“Auntie.”
“Find out if the house is paid for.”
Kamani frowned. “Billionaires probably have strange mortgages.”
“Stay out of his basement,” Pauline warned.
I looked at Tatum through the mirror. “Please learn from other adults.”
Tatum smiled. “I like him.”
I turned around.
She shrugged. “He shows up. Ollie called him when he needed help with his science project, and Richard answered.”
“When did that happen?”
“Tuesday.”
“He never told me.”
“He said helping doesn’t need a press release.”
My throat tightened.
Pauline dabbed beneath one eye. “That old man got sense.”
“He’s only four years older than you.”
“That makes him experienced.”
Richard stood at the bottom of his staircase when Vick escorted me into his home. His tuxedo fit him beautifully. His silver hair was brushed back, and his beard had been freshly trimmed.
He stared.
I touched my hair. “Say something.”
“I’m reconsidering my ability to behave in public.”
My stomach fluttered.
“Try hard. This dress requires witnesses.”
Ayla appeared from the drawing room. Richard’s daughter was forty, polished, and careful around me.
“You look lovely,” she said.
“Thank you.”
Her eyes moved to her father. “Kendra will be there tonight.”
Richard’s jaw tightened. “She lost her invitation.”
“She’s attending with one of the board members.”
“Then he will lose his seat.”
Ayla sighed. “Dad.”
“I’ve been patient.”
I slipped my hand through Richard’s arm. “Handle it after the event. Tonight belongs to the program.”
Ayla studied me.
“You care about the program?”
“I built half of it.”
“I assumed my father gave you the title.”
Richard started to speak.
I squeezed his arm. “Your father pays me well. My work gives him a return on that investment.”
Ayla’s expression shifted.
“You really believe in it.”
“I believe families deserve financial guidance grounded in reality.”
She nodded slowly. “I read the curriculum. It’s strong.”
“Thank you.”