Chapter Thirty-Seven
Max
I stop in the middle of reviewing Rhys’s agenda for the week. What he said about children keeps circling in my head, scattering my concentration.
Marriage first. Then plan for a baby.
Which I guess means that he wants to vet the woman and make sure that she’s worthy of having his baby.
Or maybe not even that. He seemed pretty certain he wouldn’t have children. He probably just doesn’t want any. How would a child fit into his incredibly busy schedule, anyway? And all those business trips, many of them overseas?
Besides, I can’t forget his reaction when I asked—what if I’m pregnant?
It wouldn’t have shocked me if his eyeballs had popped. Not a hint of joy. He choked so hard, I had to tell him I was kidding so he didn’t wreck the car.
How am I going to hide the pregnancy? I promised to fake-date him for a year.
Right now, I’m not experiencing any morning sickness—just a bit of craving for chocolate, lethargy and some difficulty focusing here and there, but it’s not enough to give me away.
But my belly? It’ll start to balloon in a few months.
Should I find a way to dump Rhys during the first trimester to avoid any further entanglement?
Actually, that doesn’t work. I’ll have to quit my job, too, and I hate to give up my hard-won career.
I look down at my still-flat belly. It seems cruel to tell the life that it doesn’t measure up to a fake boyfriend and a job. Shouldn’t it matter more, just like I should’ve mattered more to Trevor?
I want to shake a fist at the unfairness of the world. Hey, Karma, can you be on my side for once?
Who cares if Rhys doesn’t want it? I’ll give it double the love to make up for the lack of a father figure.
I place a hand over my belly. Mommy will keep you safe and love you.
“You are a difficult woman to get a hold of.”
I raise my head. Trevor’s lawyer stands before me, as sleek and polished as before. Although his mouth is smiling, his eyes are dark with aggravation.
“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” I ask with all the fake sweetness I can manage, since this is my workplace and professionalism is required.
“I told the receptionist I had an appointment,” he says. “The usual.”
“But you don’t.”
“True, but it’s not for lack of trying. You blocked me everywhere.”
“I’m sure you’re a very smart man for having passed the bar and all that. But maybe you should study up a little bit on how to take a hint.”
His expression turns flat. “This is really not amusing. I’m here in good faith. There are things I need to discuss with you about your inheritance.” Then he lowers his voice, trying to be discreet. “That two billion dollars.”
“Is Trevor ready to beg? On his knees?”
“Look—”
I snap my fingers. “Darn it, he’s not. Guess I’ll just have to miss out, and you’ll have to go before I call security.”
“Come on.” Don runs a hand over his face. “I just want to make my mother proud. I’m up for promotion this year. And I have to get this done because it’s important.”
I glare at him. He must’ve realized from our lone interaction that I have a particular fondness for my mother—and likely people who treat their mothers well. “Don’t tell me your promotion depends on my agreeing to take Trevor’s money.”
“It kind of does, actually. He’s a very important client.”
“You have got to be kidding. On the other hand, I can see why he might need a lot of legal service. Given how much of an asshole he is, he’s probably offended everyone, including the Pope and Dalai Lama.”
Don heaves an aggrieved sigh. He probably doesn’t want to bad-mouth his client behind his back with his estranged daughter. Besides, even if Don’s working for the devil, it really isn’t his fault. It was his inevitable destiny the moment he received a law degree.
“I’m not going to betray my mother,” I say tersely.
“You won’t have to. Your father’s about to divorce his wife.”
“Finally! Took him long enough.” I never understood Lily’s appeal. No class, no morals. Actually, that’s probably why he fell for her—birds of a feather.
“He wants to make sure she gets nothing.”
“And this impacts me…how? As far as I’m concerned, Trevor and Lily are both disgusting.”
“He wants you to get everything in a trust he set up. That way, Lily can’t touch a penny. Do you really want her and her son to bask in the luxurious life that two billion dollars can provide?”
Although I blame Trevor more for the pain Mom and I suffered, I hold Lily accountable as well. She knew he was married when she decided to climb into his bed.
“Besides, your career and money situation are great now, but there’s no guarantee they’ll be great forever. It’s wise to have a contingency plan,” Don adds.
“I’m not going to be magnanimous and understanding. And I’m certainly not going to claim that what he did to my mother was justifiable.”
Don holds up a hand. “He’s not asking for that. He just wants some blood.”
I still want to say no, just to spite Trevor…but there’s the pregnancy. Although I don’t suppose Rhys would be cruel to me or the baby, I can’t make any assumptions. Don’s right about needing a contingency plan.
“All you have to do is sign this paperwork,” he says, pulling a thick stack of papers out of his briefcase and placing it on my desk, “and the trust will be yours, making you a newly minted billionaire.”
I eye the papers like they’re vipers—marginally more palatable than cockroaches. “Fine, but there better not be any weird gotchas in this document.”
“There aren’t, I swear.”
“We’ll see. I’m not dumb enough to believe a lawyer representing Trevor. I’ll have to get my own lawyer to review this.”
The hand comes up again. “Of course. That’s expected.”
“Send a copy to Jeremiah Huxley.” I watch carefully for his reaction. If there’s a land mine in this document, he won’t be pleased. But all he does is nod, his shoulders sagging slightly in relief that he’s made it this far.
“Will do.”
“Now please go, because I actually have work to do.” I point to my laptop.
He gives a nod that verges on being a bow and leaves. I pick up my phone.
–Me: Hi, Jeremiah. This is Max Norman. I want to ask you to do me a personal favor.
I need a legal document reviewed to make sure that there aren’t any catches or hidden pitfalls.
It will be coming from Don Wellington, from Highsmith, Dickson and Associates.
Please invoice me separately, as this has nothing to do with Rhys or the firm.
Within a few minutes, a text hits my phone.
–Jeremiah: Don Wellington, you say? It will be my pleasure.