The Billionaire's Forever Family

by Cameron, Cate

  She stared at him for a moment, then turned back to her mopping. “I might have been a little rotten, too. I was—I don’t know. Whatever. I’m sorry.” A few mop strokes before she said, “You promised Emily you’d find a solution that made all three of us happy,” she said without looking at him. “I’m glad to see you’re trying to keep your promises to her.”

  “I’ll make the same promise to you, too, if you’ll let me.” This wasn’t in the plan, but it felt right anyway. He needed Cassidy’s trust. He’d had it for a little while, cautiously granted, and he’d blown it. He wanted it back. “I promise to—”

  “No.” She turned to look at him now. “You don’t owe me promises or anything else. Especially promises you can’t keep.”

  “Well, I disagree with you on two counts, there. One, as far as I’m concerned, I owe you more than I can express, for raising Emily into the fantastic young woman she is today. And, two, I disagree that I can’t keep the promise I made to Em.” He watched the emotions passing across her face. Cassidy Frost would be a disastrous poker player. “But, okay, let me make you a different promise.” He waited for her to object, but she watched him cautiously instead. “I promise to be much better about talking to you. Discussing things with you instead of just doing them.”

  She took a deep breath as if gathering strength, then said, “And does that include whatever stuff you came up with while you were in the city? Trust funds and wills and schools and whatever? You’re going to discuss those with me, or you’ve already done them?”

  Well, shit. She’d busted him pretty quickly. “I haven’t done anything with schools,” he said. “I got some information and made some preliminary inquiries. And technically I did the will and trust fund stuff before I made you this promise. But I’ve arranged for Trevor to come up and walk through it all with you, and then with Emily. I’m not sneaking around, I promise.”

  “You’re big on the promises, aren’t you?” But she didn’t sound like she was criticizing him or looking for a fight. She just sounded heartbreakingly tired. He should remember that and have more conversations with her at the end of the day instead of the start, when she still had energy to fight. Or maybe that was a bit too cynical.

  “What did you want to go to school for?” he asked, stepping carefully over the damp area of the floor and retrieving the bag of napkins from its spot under the counter. He felt her eyes on him as he walked to the first booth and started filling the dispenser. “You said you were going to leave town to go to school but decided to stay when Emily came along. What were you hoping to study?”

  For a long moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer, but by the time he’d reached the napkin dispenser on the second table, she said, “Biology. I wanted to be a vet, but that’s a lot of school. Even without Emily I wouldn’t have had the money for that.” She was mopping again, and he kept working as well.

  “You like animals, huh?”

  “No. I hate them and figured I’d enjoy seeing them when they were sick and injured.”

  “Yeah, that makes sense. With the cats and the horses and the goat and whatever, obviously you hate animals.”

  “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” She was half turned toward him as she rolled the mop bucket along the floor, and he could see the little grin on her lips.

  Will made himself focus on the napkins. There was no reason for him to be so pleased by this development. Cassidy had made a little joke, that was all. She was being friendly; they were getting along—it was good, sure, but not good enough for him to be feeling almost giddy.

  “What else do you hate? Movies, music, books, hobbies? I know you’ve been too busy since Pippa—sorry, Penny—got sick, but before that, what did you do with your free time?”

  Cassidy started mopping a little more vigorously. “I hung out with Em, mostly. When Penny was alive, generally whichever of us wasn’t at the diner was with her. We’d both be here during the day usually, for the lunch rush and doing some prep, and then one of us would be home with Em in the mornings, the other would be home with her in the evenings.”

  “But Emily has friends, and does things away from home. There must have been some time when you weren’t at work and weren’t with her.”

  Cassidy nodded slowly. He could tell she was reluctant to share too much with him. He couldn’t see how he could ever use knowledge of a hobby as a way to hurt her, but apparently she wasn’t so sure. Finally she said, “Riding. I used to love to ride horses. Train them. Even made a bit of money from it. Not enough to make a living, but—a bit.”

  “Casey,” he said slowly. “The horse you sold. I thought he was Emily’s, but he was yours?”

  “No,” she said quickly. Maybe too quickly. “He was just a family horse. Emily liked him a lot.”

  “But you sold him, and not Finnegan?”

  “We wouldn’t have gotten much money for Finn, and we weren’t sure whoever we sold them to would actually keep them together anyway. So we sold Casey, kept Finnegan.” She was quiet almost long enough for him to think it was time for another question, and then he realized she’d stopped mopping and was staring into the murky water of the bucket. “When the trailer came to take him away,” she said, her voice breaking, “Casey was whinnying and kicking at the trailer, like he knew what was happening. And Finnegan threw a fit in the paddock, running after the truck. Em tried to go after them, too, and I had to hold her back and she was crying and fighting me—”

  She turned suddenly, heading toward the back room, keeping her face turned away from him. “God, you must think I’m such a—”

  If he’d thought about it he probably wouldn’t have done it, but his body moved before his brain kicked into gear. He stepped into her path, let her run into his chest, and wrapped his arms around her. Not too tight, not enough to restrain her, but hopefully enough for her to feel—warm? Safe? He didn’t know, and as he felt her body tense, he was pretty sure she was about to pull away.

  “I think you’re strong,” he whispered. “I think you did what you had to do to look after your family. I think you have feelings, and it’s been too long since you’ve been able to let yourself feel them, so they’re spilling out now, sometimes.” He felt her relaxing, at least a little, and kept going. “I understand how it must be frustrating when they spill out around me, since you don’t trust me all that much or know me all that well, but please know that seeing you get upset doesn’t make me think less of you. It just makes me think you’re human, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Her face was still tucked in so he couldn’t see her expression, but the top of her head was resting against his chest, and he felt the gentle vibrations when she groaned, “I’m a mess.”

  “You’re not.” He had to stop himself from kissing her. Not a passionate kiss, just a comforting one, probably to the top of her head. It felt right to do it, but he wouldn’t trust his instincts, not when they’d already gotten him into too much trouble. No steamrolling, no comfort-kisses without explicit permission. He’d gotten away with the hug, at least so far, but he’d better not push his luck much further.

  “I hope they’re taking good care of him,” she said quietly, and it took him a while to remember she was talking about the damn horse.

  “I want to buy him,” he said, and as he expected, she pushed away from him, swiped impatiently at her eyes, and glared.

  “What? Why would you want to buy a horse?”

  “For Emily. You said he was a family horse, right? So if you tell me who bought him, I can go and buy him back, and the family will have its horse again. Casey will have his buddy, and you can get rid of the goat. Hey, maybe we could trade. I could buy Casey, and then trade him for the goat. I think the goat is pretty cool. I absolutely want him.”

  “What would you do with a goat?” He could feel her sense of humor being activated. Maybe that was going to be the secret. Make her see the absurd side of things.

  “Well, he’d be my goat, so I guess I�
�d do whatever I wanted with him. Maybe I could teach him tricks.”

  “He’s a she. Nanny. And honestly, do you have any idea how much a goat costs, compared to a horse like Casey?”

  “You’re driving a hard bargain, here…”

  And finally, even with her face still damp with tears, she laughed. Just a quick snort, but it counted. “It’s too much,” she said. “You’d have to pay more for the horse than you paid for the roof, probably. Quite a bit more.”

  “Really?” This was getting interesting. “Why’s he worth so much?”

  “He’s got good bloodlines, and he’s well-trained. He’s only been to a few shows, but he’s been in the money at every one.”

  “You trained him. He’s not a family horse, then.”

  “Yeah,” she admitted. “So, no, you shouldn’t buy him for Emily. She doesn’t really ride all that seriously—they’d just irritate each other. But it was a nice thought. Thank you.” And with that she was back to mopping, clearly expecting Will to get back to napkin-stuffing.

  He did return to his task eventually. But first he took a moment to send an angry, baffled thought toward Pippa, who’d stolen his daughter from him and enslaved her own sister, robbing young Cassidy of her dreams for no good reason. How different would things have been for everyone if Will could have been involved from the beginning?

  Sure, he’d have been young, and maybe not a great father because of it. But he could have at least contributed money, enough to let Cassidy go to school and keep her from having to sell her damn horse. He imagined that scene, when Casey was driven away, and he added in the part that Cassidy hadn’t mentioned. The horses kicking, Emily crying, and Cassidy, trying to be strong through it all, trying to keep a grip on everyone else as she watched her last dream being carted away from her.

  Yeah, there were lots of reasons to resent Pippa’s selfish decision. And Will was pretty sure he was starting to feel at least as much anger on Cassidy’s behalf as on his own.

  Chapter Ten

  The diner wasn’t usually busy on Sundays, but ever since the town had heard about the Frost family drama, and especially since they’d heard that scenes from it were being acted out right there at the counter for the customers’ viewing pleasure, business had picked up. Luckily Em had come in to help with Sunday brunch, and she’d brought one of her friends, a tall, lanky boy named Seth who was looking for a part-time job.

  And without the hospital payments emptying the bank account every other Wednesday, there was actually money to pay him for his time. Cassidy tossed him an apron, and they all got to work. He was too young to be left in charge of the place on his own, so Cassidy would still need to be there from open until close, but maybe she’d at least be able to sit down and take a few breaks now and then.

  She was experimenting with that concept midafternoon, just after the brunch rush, sitting in the family booth doing some paperwork while the kids prepped for dinner, when Will’s lawyer walked into the diner. What was his name? Will called him Trevor, but Cassidy really wasn’t ready for that level of familiarity.

  “Ms. Frost,” he said as he approached. “Trevor McCain, Will Connelly’s lawyer—good to see you again. Is it all right if I sit down?”

  “If I say yes, are you going to steal my straw?” she asked, looking pointedly at her juice bottle. “Because I’m still using it.”

  “I promise to behave myself,” he said solemnly, and for the first time she felt like she saw something more to him than a suit and a piercing gaze. For one thing, when his eyes danced like that, he actually looked Will’s age.

  “Okay, then,” she said, and straightened the pile of bills in front of her so there’d be room for him to at least rest his hands on the table. “What’s up?”

  “Will said he told you I’d be coming by to review the financial plans he’s made. Is this a good time?”

  It was as good as any, she supposed, although just the phrase “trust fund” made her skin crawl as she thought of empty-headed reality-show bimbos. Why the hell did Emily need a trust fund? Well, maybe that was one of the things she could find out in this conversation. “Sure, now’s good.”

  He slid into the booth opposite her, opened his briefcase on the far corner of the table, the only spot not covered in paper, and then didn’t take anything out of it. Instead, he took his glasses off and held them in his hands. He was quiet for a moment, looking down at them, then he nodded his head once as if coming to some internal agreement. When he looked back up at Cassidy, he seemed young again.

  “These glasses cost almost nine hundred dollars,” he said conversationally. “Eight hundred and seventy-six, to be precise.” He held them up to the light, then shook his head. “I could have seen just as well through a pair that cost me fifty bucks, shipping included. But I bought these instead.”

  How was she supposed to respond to that? “You must really like the frames.”

  “Not especially, no. I mean…they’re kind of boring, aren’t they? There’s not much to like or dislike.”

  “Is this related to Em’s trust fund somehow?”

  He smiled. “Not directly, no. I just—I don’t know. Do you mind if I take an extra five minutes of your time? I promise, I’ll get to the financials. It’s pretty straightforward, and I won’t leave until you either understand it or are sick to death of talking about it. But just—just to establish an understanding, maybe, between you and me? Can I tell you a bit about myself?”

  “I guess,” she said. This had better not be some pervy come-on.

  He grinned as if he knew what she was thinking, and the expression made him look positively boyish. What was that book she’d read in school where the person aged backward? She thought maybe she was looking at a real-world example right across the table from her.

  “My parents were working-class on a good day,” he said, and the strange choice of topic startled her back to reality. “On a bad day, or a bad year, they were just unemployed. And I have five younger siblings.” He was saying it all in a matter-of-fact way, and she nodded to show she’d received the information he was giving her. “I met Will, and some other friends, when I got a scholarship to the Mayweather School in New York City. I started in ninth grade, but most of the others had been there since kindergarten.” He shrugged. “Will and a few other guys from that school are my best friends. They will always be my best friends, I’m quite sure. But there are some parts of my life that they will never understand.”

  “Because they were born with money?” she asked, curious despite herself.

  He nodded. “They think they understand. They understand the surface parts, the fact that there just wasn’t enough money to do things. It took them a while to even figure that much out, to realize that I wasn’t turning down invitations because I didn’t want to hang out with them, but rather because I couldn’t afford the ticket prices or the meals or whatever. But they’re smart, and eventually they caught on.”

  “But they still don’t understand other things?”

  “I think they have trouble understanding the mindset. Little details, mostly, but they add up to something larger.”

  “What mindset are you talking about?”

  He looked back down at his glasses. “These frames? The eight hundred and seventy-six dollars I spent on them? I make good money, now. I’m a partner in a New York law firm. The connections I made at Mayweather mean that my roster of clients is full to overflowing, especially since Will seems determined to turn me into his thousand-dollar-an-hour errand boy. These glasses are nothing compared to my net worth. But still, I know exactly how much they cost, and still I—obsess may be the wrong word, but it’s close, I think. I’m fascinated, maybe, but not in a totally healthy way. Sometimes I’m stupidly proud, like I want to tell everyone I meet. And sometimes I’m kind of ashamed, because it’s such a stupid waste of money.”

  It was interesting. It made her like him a little, but at the same time, she wondered just what he was building up to. And a tiny, cy
nical part of her wondered if his story was even true, or whether it was all part of some carefully designed plan to—to what? “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” he said, and there was that boyish grin again. How could Cassidy not trust someone who smiled like that? “I suppose I’m trying to establish a bond between us, an understanding of our shared experiences of poverty in relation to wealth.” He shrugged. “And I suppose I’m doing that because I’m hoping you’ll give some thought to what I’m about to say, since you know that I’m speaking from experience, not theory.”

  “What are you about to say?”

  He set his glasses down on the table, looked at his briefcase, then looked back at her. “I’m going to say that it’s easy for people like you and me to say no to things. I expect it’s especially easy for you, since my impression is that your sister said yes a lot—damn it, I didn’t mean that to sound sexual. I just mean she seemed like the sort of person who was open to new experiences, and to taking chances. If someone asked her if she wanted to do something, anything, she’d be likely to say yes. Does that sound accurate?”

  Cassidy wanted to know where he was going to go with all this before she gave her answer, but it didn’t seem like he was going to go on until she said something. “It sounds like her, yeah. I guess.”

  “And that’s how my friends are, too. It’s like your sister somehow wasn’t working class, wasn’t poor, at least in her mind. She just sort of ignored reality and did what she wanted. Travel, adventures, all of that. Life is a playground, an amusement park designed for her enjoyment. Am I on the right track?”

  Cassidy had never thought of it that way before, but she found herself nodding. “Yeah. I think maybe you are.”

  “But the bills still had to be paid, of course, and Emily had to be taken care of. So somebody had to be more in touch with reality; somebody had to say no sometimes. Or maybe all of the time. And that somebody was you, like the two of you balanced each other out.”