The Billionaire's Forever Family

by Cameron, Cate

  She looked uncertain, and he wanted to push. He wanted to tell her to get used to taking his help, because this was just the first of many things he planned to do. But he made himself stand still, and finally she nodded.

  “Okay. Yes, the roof. Thank you.”

  He decided to take the partial victory and not push about the landlord. He also decided it was best to hold off on telling her what else he’d arranged. There would be plenty of time for that conversation later.

  Chapter Six

  She wanted to pretend it was all because of the money. Having Will around made things easier because he had lots of money, and money made the world go round.

  Certainly that was part of it. But if she was being honest with herself, part of it was just Will. He hadn’t contributed anything financial to the situation with the landlord, but just knowing that he was standing there, listening to her side of the conversation and nodding supportively when she made her argument, had helped. It had given her more confidence, more strength. And when she’d gotten what she wanted from the landlord, Will grinned as if sharing her victory, as if getting a landlord to spend a few hundred dollars on a roof patch was a real accomplishment. Then he acted like it was a privilege to be trusted with chopping up the ingredients for that day’s chicken salad.

  She hadn’t known she was lonely until the loneliness went away.

  Don’t get used to it, she reminded herself. Appreciate it for what it is, but don’t build it into something it isn’t.

  “The roofers are scheduled to be at the house at two,” Will said, his words breaking into her thoughts. She looked up from the cheese she’d been slicing, and he held up his phone to show what looked like a text, as if to prompt her understanding. “Trevor’s got someone set up to do the work, but the roofers will probably need to get inside, at least to check on water damage or whatever. He wants to know if it’s okay for him to come by and pick up a key, or if you’d rather be there in person.”

  Trevor. The cold green eyes, the appraising way he’d looked around the diner. No, she didn’t want him in her house alone. Didn’t want him in her house at all. “Your lawyer hires roofers for you?”

  “He’s not just my lawyer.” Will frowned for a moment, then said, “Actually, that’s a good thing for you to know. Trevor’s my friend, and he’s my go-to guy. He’s an attack dog when I want him to be, but when it’s family, when it’s people he trusts, he’s gentle as a lamb. Protective, though. So now that he knows you and Emily are on the inside? Now that you’re people he’s supposed to be protecting? If you need anything and you can’t get hold of me for whatever reason, call Trevor, okay? He’ll take care of you.”

  That was the trap, Cassidy realized. She’d let Will in, just a little, had let him take care of her roof, and now the protection was expanding. If she needed anything, she should call Will’s guy. It was a generous offer, of course, but it was far too seductive. No matter how tired she was, she still had to be strong. She wasn’t going to trade on her niece’s paternity, wasn’t going to let herself become dependent on Will Connelly or anyone else.

  “If Emily needs something,” she clarified, “I’ll keep him in mind.”

  Will looked like he was thinking of pushing for more of a commitment from her, but he wisely thought better of it and just nodded. “And the roofers? Are you okay giving him a key?”

  No, damn it, she wasn’t. But what was the alternative? Taking more time away from the diner, possibly losing customers?

  “I can go out, if you’d rather,” Will said. “I don’t know if I’m any better than Trevor—”

  “You are,” she said quickly, trying not to think about what that meant. “I hate to ask, but if it’d be okay with you…”

  “No problem.” His smile was reassuring, and therefore dangerous.

  “Okay, good.” She needed to get this day back on track. “Thanks. So, in terms of other issues, I was hoping we could talk about your plans. You know, with Emily.”

  He scooped the chopped celery off his cutting board and dumped it into the mixing bowl before he answered. “I’m not sure I have any plans, yet. I want to be her father, in a meaningful way. I want to be part of her life.”

  “But I assume you don’t want to give up the rest of your life because of it?” She was probably making a mistake, pushing for more concreteness, but the uncertainty was one of the worst things about it all. “Emily’s life is here. Your life is in the city. Do you have a plan for that?”

  She was pleased that she’d kept her voice level, and she shifted her body around so he wouldn’t be able to see how her hands were shaking as she tried to keep working.

  “Has Emily spent much time in New York?” he asked.

  It was phrased innocuously enough, but it sent chills down her spine all the same. “She’s been down once, for a weekend. We saw a show, walked around a lot. Nothing too exciting.”

  “Did she like it?”

  She hated it! You can’t take her there, can’t take her away from me! But that wasn’t really true, was it? “She liked it okay. But—” But what? “It was only a weekend. It’s easy to like somewhere when you’re only there for a couple days. Way different from living there permanently.”

  “And what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Do you like it? Would you be interested in living in the city?”

  She had no idea how to answer. On the surface it was a general question, barely more than small talk. But underneath, there was so much more. What did it mean if she said she might be interested? Was she committing to something? If so, what? And even worse, what did it mean if she said she wouldn’t be interested? What would she be giving up?

  “Okay,” he said, making it sound like a proclamation. She turned to see him covering the bowl of chicken salad and then shoving it into the cooler. “Can we take a break and sit down for five minutes? I feel like this would go better if we were looking at each other while we talked.”

  That sounded like a terrible idea, but she wasn’t sure how to argue without sounding unbalanced. So she said, “One minute,” and cut a few more slices of cheese, then tidied it all up. She still hadn’t thought of an excuse, so she shrugged. “A short break. Okay.”

  He led the way to the family booth as if it were his natural domain, and she was torn between resentment and admiration. It must be nice to walk through life like that, assuming that you were welcome everywhere.

  She eased in across from him and rubbed her fingertips along the scar on her other hand, the burn from a few months ago that still felt a bit strange. When his hands slid across the table and took hold of hers, it was too intimate, and she had to resist the urge to jerk away. Instead, she frowned at him and saw him looking back at her, his expression serious.

  “My father’s an asshole,” he said, as if he was just stating common knowledge. “He’s very successful, and completely aggressive and ruthless.” His eyes were boring into hers as if trying to convey some message. Maybe just sincerity. That was probably what was behind the loose hold he still had on her hands. “In business, I’m more or less the same way, and it’s worked for me. Worked very well. But in my personal life, I try really hard to be a decent guy. Honestly. I don’t take advantage of women, I’m loyal to my friends, I try to give people what they need from me… I try not to be like my father, not at home.”

  “Okay,” she said carefully. His hands were warm and strong, and more than a little distracting.

  He watched her closely as if looking for disbelief, then said, “I want to be part of my daughter’s life. But I want to do it in the way that’s best for her. Since you’re the most important person in her life, what’s best for you is almost certainly going to be what’s best for her. Does that make sense? I don’t want to hurt you, because I don’t want to be an asshole, but also because hurting you would hurt my daughter.” He shrugged. “And also because I like you. Granted, maybe you’re secretly a big jerk, and if that’s the case, then I’ll only
have two reasons for wanting to do what’s best for you, rather than three. But two reasons is pretty good. I’m not the bad guy here. I promise.”

  It wasn’t enough, of course. Just because he didn’t want to hurt her didn’t mean he wouldn’t. And she hated the feeling that she was relying on his benevolence, like they both knew he had power over her, and she just had to hope he’d keep on being nice enough to not use it. But there was nothing she could do but make the best of a bad situation. Emily’s father wasn’t some well-intentioned schoolteacher from a few towns over; he was a business tycoon from Manhattan. That was reality, and she had to figure out how to deal with it.

  “I don’t know if I’d want to live in the city,” she said. It felt like she was making a mistake, but he just waited patiently, so she added, “I’ve never lived anywhere but here. I was going to go away to school, but—” But her sister had come home from a trip pregnant and single. Their mom had been too sick to help out, and their dad had ditched them when they were babies. “I stayed here instead. We started the diner.”

  He nodded slowly, and she wondered how many of the unspoken words he’d managed to hear. “But you’ve visited. Have you enjoyed that?”

  She shrugged. “Parts were okay. I liked Central Park, and the show we saw on Broadway.”

  “What’d you see?”

  “Lion King. With Emily.” Penny had stayed to look after the business. One of the few times it had been Cassidy to escape instead of her sister.

  “And that’s the only time you’ve been down? No romantic weekends or anything?”

  He thought they were going to talk about her love life, or the pathetic lack thereof? Hell no. She pulled her hand away from his. “How are you liking it up here?” she asked instead. Time for a little turn around. “What have you been doing when you’re not with us? Seen any of the sights? It’s nice to be close to the mountains, isn’t it?”

  “The mountains are great,” he said. “Actually, I was going to tell you. Trevor found a place for me to rent. It’s a friend-of-a-friend’s summer place, but it’s winterized. About twenty minutes out of town, toward Plattsburg. I figured it would be good for me to have a base up here, at least for a little while. Give us some time to figure things out. Sound okay?”

  He made it seem like he was actually asking her permission, and she wondered what he’d do if she refused. She probably didn’t want to know. “Sounds fine,” she said. And then, partly because she knew she should and partly because she meant it, she added, “Thanks. For not being an asshole. That’ll make things easier, I think.”

  He grinned at her like she’d said something funny. “I hope it does,” he agreed. “Now, what else do we need to do around here before lunchtime?”

  …

  “It’s not going to be an easy sell,” Trevor said.

  That wasn’t what Will wanted to hear. “Why the hell not? It makes sense. It’s perfect, really.”

  “That’s why she won’t like it. It’s too perfect.” Trevor looked out the rain-streaked windshield toward Cassidy’s house, and Will looked at his friend’s profile, trying to find a smirk.

  “Are you being serious right now? I can’t tell if you’re being Trevor-lawyer, pointing out logical concerns with my plan, or Trevor-friend, making fun of me for not being totally in control of this.”

  “It’s a bit creepy that you seem to have those completely distinct personas laid out for me. You do know I’m just one person, right?”

  “Why is the plan too perfect, Trevor? What does that even mean?”

  “It’ll feel like a setup.” He turned to look at Will.

  “You think she’s going to think I sabotaged her roof a couple years ago, producing a leak that led to mold growth that means the house shouldn’t be lived in until the mold can be cleaned up? You really think she’s that paranoid?”

  “No, she’ll believe that the mold just happened. Believing something bad will be easy for her. It’s the rest of it she’s going to think is too tidy. Everything that makes sense to you is going to feel like a trap to her.”

  “Can I remind you that you’ve spent about five minutes with this woman? And I should make it clear that based on those five minutes, she neither likes nor trusts you. So where are you finding this magical insight to share with me?”

  “Can I remind you that I know what it’s like to be the one with no money, trying to deal with well-intentioned rich people who think their stock portfolios mean they can steamroll all over my independence?”

  Will didn’t have much of a comeback to that one. He and Trevor had been friends since they’d gone to school together at Mayfield Academy, one of New York City’s most prestigious and expensive private schools for boys. Will had been a legacy student. Trevor had been on scholarship. So, yeah, maybe Trevor knew what he was talking about. “What am I supposed to do, then? Just ignore the opportunity?”

  “Ignore something this perfect? That would be stupid.”

  “So what do you suggest?” Will put enough weight in the words to make it clear he wanted the conversation back on track.

  But Trevor, damn him, wasn’t intimidated. He just smiled and said, “Oh, I don’t know. I just thought I should point it out—doesn’t mean I have a solution.”

  “You had damn well better be talking to me as Trevor-friend, because it’s Trevor-lawyer’s job to find me solutions.”

  “Okay, then.” Trevor’s eyes softened, and his smile was kind. “As your friend. You can figure it out. You’re doing great. Just be careful with her, and do as little steamrolling as your personality will allow.” Trevor opened his car door and eased out into the rain, then leaned back down to say, “Good luck. Let me know how it goes.”

  And with that, he was gone, dodging puddles on his way back to his own car.

  Will sat there for a while, thinking about steamrolling people, and leaky roofs and mold and his daughter. And his daughter’s proud, independent, struggling aunt. Then he carefully backed out of the driveway and headed for town.

  He got to the diner before Emily arrived after school, and it was strange that he was relieved about that. Emily was the point of all this, after all. Wasn’t she?

  Well, mostly. And at some point he was going to have to start having serious conversations with her, looking at her future and all the rest of it. But it was nice to be able to bounce ideas around with Cassidy first.

  He shook the rain off himself as Cassidy watched him warily from behind the counter. “How bad is it?” she asked, and it took him a moment to realize what she was talking about.

  He looked around, saw only an old man nursing a cup of coffee in the corner, and walked over to stand in front of Cassidy, leaning on the counter between them. “It’s not great,” he said. “The roof is fixable, no problem. But apparently it’s been leaking for a while, so there’s a mold issue. They can clean that up, but they say no one should be living in the house while that happens. There will be a stage where it’s actually more dangerous than it is now, because they’ll be stirring it up and sending spores into the air.”

  She didn’t answer for longer than was comfortable, but finally she nodded. “Does that need to happen right away? How big of a job will it be?” Her voice was tight, as if she was asking for a diagnosis she knew she couldn’t handle.

  “They aren’t sure until they get in there and start ripping things apart. I’m told there’ve been cases where mold was growing on the back of wallpaper, or under carpets or wherever, and the clean up was really extensive. But they’re hoping it’s limited to the attic. They want to talk to you and see if you or Em have had any symptoms of mold exposure.”

  Her nod was a little jerky, and she looked away before saying, “It could be serious? If Em was breathing in mold…?”

  “She’s probably fine. She doesn’t have allergies, right? No breathing problems?”

  “No.”

  “So she’s good. Nothing to worry about. But we do need to get it cleaned up.”

  “That�
�s more than you bargained for,” she said slowly. “You thought you were going to be paying for a few shingles, not—”

  “It’s fine. The money isn’t an issue. But if you’re kicked out of the house for a few weeks…” Be cool, Connelly, don’t steamroll. “I’d love to have the chance to get to know Emily better, and the place I’m renting is big. Lots of space.”

  “You want Emily to stay with you,” she said dully.

  He felt like he was kicking a kitten. No, worse than that, he felt like he was driving the last spear into a once-mighty lioness who had been weakened by injury and starvation. “Yes,” he said. “I’d like her to stay with me.” And he made himself wait. There was still some life in the lioness, and Cassidy snarled, “You can’t be serious. You think she’s just going to move in with you, someone she’s just met? She won’t be comfortable with that, and I won’t be comfortable.”

  Wait for it. Wait for it. “So what would you suggest?”

  “We can stay with friends, I guess.”

  “Both of you, for several weeks?”

  She glared at him. “Do you have a better idea?”

  “What would it take for you to be comfortable about Emily staying with me?” He tried to look thoughtful. “Would you feel better—do you think she’d feel better—if you both stayed with me? Like I said, there’s lots of room. And staying with a friend? I’m a friend. A friend living alone in a six-bedroom house. There’s a barn and some paddocks or whatever they’re called, so you could bring the horse and the goat, and the cats. Are there other animals?” He had to stop talking, had to stop trying to sell this to her. He wasn’t supposed to be making it perfect.

  “You think we should move the animals? Just how bad is this mold?”

  “I was thinking for convenience. You don’t have a lot of spare time, so having to drive over there every day—is it just once a day you’d look after them? I don’t know much about horses, and I know nothing about goats. But any time you spend driving over there is time you don’t really have. So wherever you stay, you need room for the animals, right?” He wanted to keep going, but he made himself stand quietly, and finally he was rewarded for his restraint.