Love Me Forever

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “We’re home now. I’m back at work at Bennett. And I have news. Are you up to a New Year’s Eve wedding?”

  “New Year’s Eve?”

  “Yes. New Year’s Eve.”

  “That’s fast, honey.”

  “It doesn’t feel fast. It feels perfect.”

  We talk for a good twenty minutes and make plans for him to join us for the holidays. He struggles alone without my mother, and when we hang up, I wish for his happiness. I want him to find his partner in life.

  My cellphone rings again and this time, it’s Delaney. “I was just about to call you.”

  “I arrived home to being served.” Her voice trembles. “You were right. Mitch’s brother is suing me and my daughter for everything.”

  Of course, he is, I think. “That’s good,” I say.

  “What? How is that good, Mia? This is not good.”

  “We need to talk about who the real killer is and it’s not you. Jim used you to get rid of his brother and you, in one fatal swoop. He intends to inherit. Instead, we’re going to make him pay. You have my word.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Grayson

  The immunity agreement is, as Blake said, a good deal.

  I spend a good two hours with Eric and Davis, tearing apart the wording on the agreement sent to us by the Feds. All in all, we feel like we’ll get to a place where this ends for me and Mia, and really, for the entire company. We’re about to wrap up the meeting when Nancy hands me Reese’s contract and Davis claims it for review. He heads to the conference room to have the quiet he needs to ensure he doesn't miss anything. Eric is about to leave as well, but I don’t let that happen.

  He’s already at the door and I’m in front of my desk when I stop him. “Don’t even think about it.”

  Eric’s shoulders bunch but he turns around and shuts the door behind Davis. “If this is about—”

  “It is,” I assure him. “How much do I owe you?”

  “You don’t.”

  “Eric—”

  “Grayson, damn it.” He takes two steps toward me. “I don’t want your money.”

  “Then I’ll just make a very large deposit into your 401k. I’ll estimate your generosity with my own.”

  “Damn it,” he curses, scrubbing his jaw. “You know, if you weren’t such a generous fuck, I wouldn’t have done this. And now, because you are, you won’t let me. For once, let someone do something for you.”

  “Here’s what you need to understand, Eric. You did. You risked your life for me last night. And that was just last night. You and I are friends. I trust three people in this world. You, Mia, and Davis, though you and Davis are not on the same level, and you know it. We are brothers.”

  “Is that not what I’m showing you? Your money is not what we’re about?”

  “I have the money, Eric. You of all people know that it’s a part of who I am. I was born into it. And I was taught to use it respectfully and thoughtfully and letting you pay to bail me out is not that.”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “I don’t need the money.”

  “And thanks to you, neither do I.”

  I inhale and exhale. “How much?”

  “I estimated what Ri could afford based on his portfolio and finances, which Blake hacked for me.”

  “How much?”

  “Five million, and I’ve made twenty times that working with you.”

  “How about a truce? Why don’t we go half and half and do something good with the money?”

  “Such as?”

  I think of Delaney and the photos I’d seen in Mia’s file. “Mia’s client is an abused wife. Even with money, she was a prisoner in her own home. I can’t imagine what it must be like for those who have no resources. I think we should help the battered women’s shelter here locally.”

  “Considering my mother was a victim of my father in many ways, I’m all-in,” Eric says.

  There’s a knock on the door and Nancy appears, entering and shutting the door behind her. “That new man, Kevin, that Mia hired is here. He says it’s about Mia and urgent.”

  Eric and I exchange a concerned look. “Send him in,” I say.

  Nancy nods and hurries back to her desk, and Kevin appears in my office almost immediately. “This is Eric,” I say. “You can speak freely around him.”

  “Hi Eric,” he says, and looks between us. “I hope Mia forgives me for coming to you first, but she’s been through a lot and I’m sensitive to that fact.”

  “What is this about?” I ask, trying not to sound impatient, but I am fucking impatient when it comes to Mia’s safety.

  “I went to the coffee shop and a man cornered me and handed me this.” He indicates a folder. “He said it was a bombshell in the Delaney Wittmore case. I could have just walked it into Mia, but after the Ri stuff, I didn’t want to risk handing her some threat or problem that I can’t fully foresee. Especially since he knew I worked with Mia, and I’ve only been here a few days. That feels like a connection to Ri. Anyway, I thought you might want to be with her when she opened it.” He moves forward and offers it to me. “It’s sealed. I haven’t looked inside. I wouldn’t do that.”

  I accept the folder and study him intently, surprised by his level of loyalty and protection of Mia. He came to me to shelter her. Perhaps I’ve let the man in me misjudge him. Perhaps he really is just a good friend. “Thank you, Kevin. Your loyalty will not be forgotten.”

  “I’m not looking for good graces. Just trying to be a friend. Let me know if you need me.” He turns and exits, shutting the door behind him.

  Eric arches a brow. “What are you going to do?”

  I stare at that envelope and fight my urge to rip it open, but I don’t. I glance over at Eric. “In the past, I’d have opened it up and told her I did it to protect her. But I’ve learned my lesson. I’m going to respect my future wife and take this to her.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Mia

  I’ve just hung up with Blake after he’s confirmed the identity of the reporter who sideswiped me this morning when Grayson walks in. Just seeing him does funny things to my chest. The way he affects me just by entering a room never ceases to surprise me. Will that ever go away? I don’t believe it will.

  His eyes warm and I know he’s read my reaction. The thing is, I don’t even care. Yes, I swoon for Grayson, but we’re mutually obsessed and in love, which is an amazing feeling that has me running a finger over my engagement band. “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey, baby.” He shuts the door and my gaze slides to the envelope in his hand, my spine stiffening. “Is that the agreement?”

  “No, but all is well on that end.”

  I frown, noting the edge to his presence I didn’t initially see. “Something isn’t good.”

  He rounds the desk and I stand up to meet him. “This,” he says, “came to me from Kevin.”

  I blanch. “Kevin?”

  “He was worried about you and thought I might want to give it to you. Note that I have not opened it despite a clawing need to do so.”

  I take the envelope. “What is this, Grayson?”

  “A man confronted Kevin at the coffee shop and said this was a bombshell in the Wittmore case.”

  “And he cornered Kevin?”

  “That’s why Kevin thought it was strange. Whoever this reporter is knew he was here with you. He was afraid this was some kind of threat.”

  A realization hits me. “And you didn’t open it?”

  “No. Believe it or not, I used great restraint, however, if you should choose to hand it back to me and let me open it first, I’d be willing to trade you that little thing you like so much.”

  “That thing you do with your—”

  “Exactly.”

  I laugh and hand him the envelope. “You win. Open it.”

  His gorgeous lips curve but he turns somber quickly, walking to the conference table and opening the envelope, while I wait anxiously. There’s nothing that would be in
that folder that would hurt Delaney. I know this. There is no part of me that fears otherwise, but God, I want to know what is in that envelope now.

  “Huh,” Grayson says, setting the documents on the table and motioning me forward. “Looks like financial transactions and photos of two men. Who are they?”

  I pick up the first photo and my jaw drops. I indicate one of the men. “That’s Delaney’s brother-in-law, the one I believe used her as a weapon to kill Mitch, her husband. And that’s the ADA who won’t give her a deal.”

  “That looks shady,” Grayson voices before I can.

  “Yes, it does. What financial reports?” Grayson hands them to me and I glance through them. “I’m not sure what I’m looking at.”

  “Let me get our numbers man,” Grayson says, walking to the desk to call him on the inner office phone.

  “Wait,” I say, before he has the chance to call Eric, scanning another sheet. “There are two sets of the same financial document. One shows large payments to an investment company to the initials NR. That matches the ADA’s initials.” I pass Grayson at the desk and dial Blake. “I need you to hack for me.”

  Grayson’s eyes meet mine, pride in their depths. “I’ll be in my office. Get him, baby.”

  “I will,” I vow, and set out to do just that.

  Blake agrees to hack for me, and when I can’t locate any note or card in the envelope, I call him back. “I’m fast, but not that fast.”

  “I need you to text me the card for the reporter that cornered me this morning.”

  “You think this is him?”

  “I do.”

  “I checked him out. He’s legit, but be careful. I haven’t had time to dig deeper. Check your messages now.” He hangs up and the text is almost instant. “Robert Hall.” My brows dip. Why does that name sound familiar? I google him and pull up his photo. He’s a tall man with dark hair and glasses. His resume with a national news station is impressive. That has to be why he’s familiar. Or rather, his name is familiar. His face is not.

  I dial the cellphone on his card. He answers on the first ring. “Robert Hall.”

  “This is Mia Cavanaugh.”

  “You got it.”

  “I did. How did you get this?”

  “I hired a PI.”

  “For a story? What’s in this for you?”

  “Mitch’s first wife, his dead wife, was my sister.”

  The room spins around me. Now I know how I know his last name. The first wife. “And?”

  “And I believe she was murdered.”

  “By who?”

  “If you believe her journal. She feared him, but I found another journal recently. She was in an intimate relationship with Jim, Mitch’s brother.”

  “You think he killed her?”

  “I don’t know who killed her, but she didn’t fall down a cliff on her own. And I’m sure you know by now that Jim thought Mitch was dying at the time. And it sure seems like Jim is making a financial investment in Delaney being disinherited.”

  “Can I see the journals?”

  “I left them at the security desk. I didn’t want Kevin reading them.”

  “How did you know Kevin worked with me?”

  “The PI was following Delaney’s case. He told me where to find you and who to find you with.”

  “Will you testify to help Delaney?”

  “I’ll testify to help my sister, and if that means Delaney, yes. I will.”

  We disconnect and I dial Nancy. “Please can you go to the security desk downstairs and see if there is a package for me? It’s urgent.”

  “Of course.”

  I stand up and start packing, thinking about my strategy, when an idea hits me. I return to my desk and dial Reese’s office, and ask his secretary to have Cat call me ASAP. Right about the time Nancy hands me the package, my cellphone rings. “Thank you, Nancy. So much. This was important.” I answer the line, “Cat?”

  “Hi, Mia. I should have given you my number.”

  “I need a favor.”

  “Of course. I’m listening.”

  I tell her everything and then pitch her. “Would you agree to out the ADA in your column if I can’t get the DA to drop the charges?”

  “Heck yes. That’s a big scoop.”

  “Thank you. Do you know the DA?”

  “He’s new. None of us have really interacted with him, but the word is he’s not much better than his predecessor, who was shady. In other words, you were smart to use me. Do it. Use me and end this for that poor woman.”

  “Thanks, Cat.” I have a thought.

  I hang up and look up the DA’s number. I dial his office and get his secretary. “I need to speak with DA Hendrix.”

  “He’s out of the office.”

  “This is Mia Cavanaugh at the Bennett firm. I need to see him right away.”

  “Oh ah, okay. I’ll let him know.” She hangs up. She doesn’t even get my number.

  I dial Blake. He answers with, “Damn skippy, you’re right. Jim Wittmore paid off the ADA. I have the proof.”

  My heart races. This is it. This is Delaney’s salvation. “Can you email it to me?”

  “You betcha. What else?”

  “I need to have someone hand something to the DA once our immunity deal is signed. As in at home, where it will be more impactful. I know that’s pushing limits but—can you make that happen?”

  “Can we fucking make it happen? Are you serious? Ouch. Fuck. Kara, damn it. Okay. Mia. I meant, yes. I can.”

  I laugh and we disconnect.

  A few minutes later, I’ve made copies of what I need for this meeting, and step to Grayson’s door to find him behind his desk while Eric lounges on the edge. Eric stands up and crosses his arms. “I have to tell you,” I admit. “I missed seeing you two powwowing like you are right now.”

  “Well then, you won’t mind that I just invited myself to Thanksgiving dinner, now will you?” Eric asks.

  This makes me smile inside. A family Thanksgiving, because that’s what me, my father, Grayson, and Eric equal. And Delaney set free. Perfect.

  “At the Hamptons house,” I say. “Bring the peanut butter pie.”

  “I don’t do peanut butter pie.”

  “You’d better start googling then.”

  Everyone laughs now and Grayson’s eyes turn this wicked warm wonderful shade of green, a little bit lustful and a whole lot happy. “What’s happening with Delaney?” he asks.

  “I have a plan. A good one.” And I realize then that I’m confident enough not to need to share it just yet. “Right now,” I say. “I need to call the wedding planner.” I grin, and with the satisfaction in Grayson’s eyes, I head back to my office. I belong here and it feels good.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Mia

  Before our dinner with Reese and Cat, we gather in their kitchen, where we are introduced to their beautiful daughter, Heather, who is a blonde doppelganger for Cat. She’s also a one-year-old daddy’s girl. In between all the cuteness, Reese and I talk about Delaney and my plan to pressure the DA to clear Delaney’s name. “I want to have the evidence delivered to him at his front door. That way it gets his attention. Blake said he’d make it happen. And Cat’s willingness to write a tell-all helps immensely.”

  “Then let’s clear a path for pressure on the DA,” Reese says. He opens a drawer and slides a file onto the island. “I read the new agreement. The changes your team wanted are present, and honestly, they left me nothing to complain about. I’m feeling pretty overpriced right now, but bottom line, I’m going to advise you to sign it. Once you do, they have to clear any use of your business to catch the Dungeon through us. However, you do have to be reasonable, considering the full immunity clause.” He glances at me. “And you don’t need me after all. Go get the DA and make this right for Delaney. And now,” he picks up Heather, “we’re going to go put this little one to bed.” He grabs a fancy Mont Blanc pen and sets it next to the folder. “Ink that and I’ll scan that to the right p
eople as soon as I get done reading Cinderella.”

  I smile and he and Cat head off with Heather. Grayson and I end up standing across from each other at their island.

  “A little girl,” Grayson says, his eyes tender as they meet mine. “I want a little Mia.”

  “I do believe you will be outnumbered if that happens.”

  “When that happens, I welcome that scenario. Did you call the wedding planner?”

  “I did. And she said that a rush wedding, even small, was going to cost us a fortune.”

  “And?”

  “And I set it up for New Year’s Eve.”

  My reward is his devastatingly sexy smile. He grabs the pen on the counter and signs the agreement before sliding it in my direction. I sign as well: Mia Cavanaugh.

  “Soon to be Mia Bennett,” I say, casting him a shy smile.

  “Not soon enough, baby.”

  Fifteen minutes later, we’re on the balcony of Reese and Cat’s apartment, with the fireplace sparked hot, a fall night breeze blowing cool, and expensive wine in our glasses. Reese has sent in the agreement, and I call Blake. “It’s a go. Send him the file.” I hang up and we touch glasses, toasting one win and another on the way. I sip my wine, which is delicious, but not a smart idea. We’ve been having a lot of unprotected sex. We want a baby. I end up pouring my wine into Grayson’s glass. Cat arches an eyebrow, and as the men chat, she leans in closer. “Are you—”

  “Not yet. Or I don’t think so, but we want to be.”

  We start talking about pregnancy and Grayson clearly overhears because his hand settles on my leg, his fingers squeezing lightly. My hand covers his but I don’t look at him. I’m shy and that is silly but true. A good kind of shy. The kind of shy that will be tender and warm and wonderful when we are alone.

  For the next two hours, we enjoy conversation, food from the restaurant downstairs, and lots of legal discussion. It’s clear that we have become fast friends with Reese and Cat. We are at the front door in the foyer of their apartment, just about to leave, when an unknown number rings my cell. I answer. “Mia Cavanaugh.”

  “Ms. Cavanaugh, this is the District Attorney.”

  My eyes go wide and I look between Grayson, Cat, and Reese. “Mr. Hendrix.”