Chapter 18
A s we made our way through the meal, there was a lot of company talk, and it helped me relax, believing the rest of the day would go smoothly.
At one point, Vivian asked if I would mind if the kids ate their dessert early, and I told her that was fine.
That all three children cleaned their dessert plates made me happy.
And, when they left the room to go play in the great room, their smiles made my day.
All three had been unusually quiet and well-behaved and it made me wonder if I would ever have children of my own.
If I did, what would they be like?
As the rest of us continued eating, Madeline asked me, “Do you have family you’ll be spending holidays with?”
My stomach clenched, because these were exactly the kinds of questions I hoped to avoid.
The more I said about my family—my father —the more likely it would be that someone here would eventually connect the dots.
So I tried to keep it simple.
“Yes, but we’ll be gathering tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s so nice.” Madeline was gearing up to ask another question, but she was interrupted.
Still, my nerves were already fraught, and I decided I couldn’t eat anything else.
Augie asked his middle brother, “So how did you and Mariah meet?”
“At the office.”
Mariah said, “I swear it sounds made up, but I’m his secretary.”
Warren shook his head.
“Administrative assistant.”
“Same thing.”
Their father said, “I suppose that means you should decrease her pay.”
Mariah’s eyebrows knitted as she tilted her head and looked straight at Augustus.
“Just because we’re dating?”
“No. Because you’re obviously not as valuable as my son seems to think you are.”
“She does a good job, dad.”
Although it had been small, I could already sense a rise in the tension—exactly what I’d been hoping to avoid.
And Augie wasn’t about to let Warren off the hook.
“That seems a little hypocritical. You were giving Sinny a ration of grief for dating an employee recently.”
“Only because he does it all the time.”
Sinclair finally spoke up—and I was impressed with how level and calm his voice sounded.
“I don’t date employees all the time . I’ve dated exactly two employees.”
“That can’t be right,” Warren said, picking up his wine glass.
“It is . I dated Natasha three years ago.”
Augie asked, “She was the crazy one?”
“Yes. And I vowed not to date an employee after that.”
Warren stood, reaching for the half-empty bottle of Riesling.
“We see how that’s working out for you.”
“Lise…is different,” Sinclair said, not looking at me.
“We got to know each other very well before anything happened between us.”
Vivian said, “That makes for a better relationship.” Then she smiled at her husband as if to underscore the sentiment.
Augie nodded, looking straight at me.
“We dated through college but didn’t get married until I finished my MBA.”
He shifted his gaze to his wife when she added, “Five years before we tied the knot.”
“What do you think, baby bro?” Warren said after polishing off another glass of wine—far too quickly.
“Will there be wedding bells in the future?”
The eldest Augustus said, “It’s time to switch to water, Warren.”
“I’m fine, dad. I haven’t had that much. Besides, Mariah’s driving.” Warren again zeroed in on his youngest brother.
“Well?”
“Well what ?”
“Are you two getting serious?”
Sinclair looked at me and, for the first time in a long time, I had no idea what he was thinking.
“I can’t speak for Lise…but I’m pretty serious about her. Enough that I’ve decided I need to tell you all everything.”
Warren’s face lit up as he formed his mouth in an O but said nothing further.
I barely caught anyone else’s expression as I focused on Sinclair.
His words were going to shatter my heart to pieces, because if he felt the same way about me that I did about him, then our story was going to be a tragedy the likes of Romeo and Juliet.
Or Swan Lake .
His father said, “We’re listening.”
Sinclair said, “Do you all remember what happened last summer at Winchester Community College?”
Augie asked, “Didn’t you say it was vandalized?”
“It was. And I accused Lise of being behind it.” No sooner had he said that than recognition spread over his father’s face, no doubt remembering that phone call the morning after I’d arrived at the mansion—but Sinclair continued.
“Everything pointed at her…because she is the daughter of Rowan Miller.”
By now, Augustus’s face was red and Augie looked confused.
Warren, though, sipping yet another glass of wine, asked, “Is that the guy who made dad’s life hell in Winchester?”
“Yes. But—”
“I’ve heard enough!” Augustus said, standing up.
“Your whole life, you’ve done nothing but rebel and disobey, and this little act of mutiny convinces me that you will never be a good seed.” To Madeline, he said, “It’s time to go.”
Augie nodded at Vivian and they stood as well.
Witnessing the family united—save Warren and his date—simply reinforced my belief that Sinclair and I could never be together.
And as they began heading toward the doorway of the dining room, Augustus added, “I knew we should have gone to Vail.”
But Sinclair stepped in the doorway.
“You’re wrong, dad. You’re wrong about everything—about me, about the Millers. But you know what? If you want to write me out of your will, fine. I’m tired of trying to be the son you want me to be, because I’ll never live up to your ridiculous standards.”
Warren, standing but still at the table, lifted his glass.
“Hear, hear!”
“You were a disappointment long before you started trying.”
“Only because you wanted to believe I wasn’t your son.” Vivian gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth, but Sinclair continued focusing his eyes on his father.
“You are my father, and you know it would only take a simple blood test to prove it. Why don’t you want to believe it?”
“I never said you weren’t my son.”
“But you treat me like I’m not. You like to write history to fit whatever reality you want to believe—not just about me but about the Millers. I know the whole story now, not just your side of it.”
“I don’t have to listen to any of this, you ungrateful—”
“You’re right. You don’t have to listen to anything I have to say—but I’d really like your attention. Just five minutes.”
His father crossed his arms over his chest, but Vivian and Augie sat back down…
which gave me hope.
Mariah grabbed my arm, and when I turned to look at her, her expression was one of excitement.
I didn’t even want to know what that was all about.
Finally, Augustus tilted up his right arm where a wristwatch peeked out from the jacket.
“Five minutes,” he said, repeating Sinclair.
“I have a proposal. Thank you.” When it became obvious his father wasn’t going to sit down, Sinclair continued.
“I don’t want us to fight—among ourselves or with any of the people we work with. I think you all know I’ve grown to love Winchester over the past few years…and what we did there was dirty.”
Although Augustus raised an eyebrow, he didn’t argue—and I wondered if it was because Sinclair had used the word we , indicating that the whole family, not just his father, was complicit.
I knew Sinclair couldn’t have been involved directly, but he was going to take the blame just the same.
“Rowan Miller didn’t ask us to leave . He asked us to mine in a different way. And I’ve been working on a plan since October. If my numbers are right, we can mine in a safer, more ecological way there and it will be profitable and sustainable. And the way I plan to do it will restore the good graces we had from the citizens of Winchester so long ago.”
The only word Augustus said was “Profitable?”
“Yes. I consulted with one of the scientists in the mining division. Sorry, Augie. I did it without telling you—but I just needed some information. Based on our previous experience there, he said there were several veins of gold in that hill—and because of other mines close by, he believed we might also find copper, zinc, and lead. And we could do it all while restoring that hill to its previous beauty.”
“Have you written a proposal?” I was shocked at how warm Augustus’s voice sounded compared to moments earlier.
“It’s almost done—but we can go to my office right now to review it if you like.”
Augustus dropped his arms to his sides.
“I can take a look at it once it’s done. But how sound are the numbers?”
“Fairly sound—although they might change a little, I project that we’ll make five million a year from that mine.”
“Hmm.” When he turned toward Madeline, I was able to see his face more clearly, and he actually looked almost…
happy.
And then I thought I had my answer: money was what motivated the eldest Whittier and made his world go round.
“Why don’t we stay for dessert…and then we’ll let Sinclair tell us more about this proposal of his.”
Although I relaxed again, just a little, I would not be able to eat dessert.
After everyone left, Sinclair helped me put the leftovers away.
I had planned to leave him enough food for a meal or two, but he insisted I take the rest home for my father.
When he caught the look on my face, he said, “I loved it, but if I eat like that for several days, I’ll have to spend twice as much time working out.”
I laughed.
“Fair enough.”
Once we’d found room in the fridge for everything, I ate a piece of pie and then we worked off the day’s frustration with a satisfying lovemaking session.
My favorite part, though, was the way he held me afterward.
Before he fell asleep, I wanted to tell him what was on my mind.
“Thank you, by the way.”
“For what?”
“For treating me like a human being…for not acting like I’m a second-class citizen compared to your family.”
At that, Sinclair shifted and opened his eyes wide.
Then he brushed my cheek with his hand.
“It’s not like what’s happening between us was going to remain a secret. If Edna knows, it won’t be long before everyone does.”
“But I know you have…would it be too strong to say you have a contentious relationship with your father?”
“Maybe—but it’s close.” He let out a soft sigh and kissed my forehead and fell silent for a bit before speaking again.
“I need to tell you something. My father’s not going to write me out of the will and he loves that we’ll be able to extract the gold out of that old mine, but he was pretty pissed that you and I are together.”
“I’m not surprised.” After everyone had eaten dessert, the older brothers had left with the people who’d come with them, even though I’d been under the impression that everyone would stay through the afternoon.
Warren had an excuse, but Augie and Vivian were just going back home.
Although I hadn’t been heartbroken about it, the most nerve-wracking people stayed behind.
Well, Madeline had seemed all right, but I’d be okay if I never saw his father again.
After the meal, Augustus and Sinclair had gone to the office and Madeline asked if I would mind if she rested her head.
I offered one of the guest bedrooms on the second floor, but she said she’d be perfectly fine on a sofa or big chair in the great room or the library.
I wasn’t sure which place she’d decided upon, but her absence allowed me to relax a bit and be myself—and I started cleaning up the dining room and washing the dishes until, about an hour later, Sinclair reappeared.
But he hadn’t wanted to talk about the meeting with his father then.
Holding me close was different.
“It’s infuriating. He said that you’re forbidden from coming to his house or entering any buildings belonging to the Whittier Corporation.”
“What? Does he think I’ll sabotage something?”
“I guess. He’s angry that you and I are together—but at least the idea of five million a year softened the blow.”
Well, I thought, in a month or so, he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.
But Sinclair’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
“I told him that having you here under my thumb made me realize who you are underneath it all—and I couldn’t help but fall in love with you: with your smile, your intelligence, your enthusiasm when it comes to art and literature, your devotion to your father, your caring heart…even your sassiness.”
Had I heard him right?
“Did you…”
“Did I what?”
“Did you just say…”
“Spit it out, Lise.”
It was time for me to be completely honest—to his face, when he was awake and couldn’t mistake what I meant.
“I…thought I heard you say that you love me. I love you too, Cory. It’s been killing me that I’m going to have to leave when I finish the east wing, but—”
In answer, he kissed me with unbridled passion.
“I do love you, Annalise Miller, and I will love you until the end of time. And loving you has made me a better man. If my father had disowned me, I would have walked away from it all just to spend another day with you.”
Tears were welling up in my eyes as his words washed over me.
He did feel the same way about me—and he’d even confessed as much to his father.
The question now was how would we ever make it work?
Or, rather, if we could…