by S. L. Scott
“May I?” she asks, taking the locket in hand. “It’s Victorian in design. So lovely.” Turning it over, she reads the stamp, “Browning. Elizabeth Barrett Browning. She lived during the Victorian era.” While she’s talking, I shoot a glance to Bennett whose smug grin says it all. He did know. “We have some of her poems in our collection and have copies of her published books, though they don’t have monetary value. We have them for reference purposes.”
I stand, my fingers pressed against the solid wood of the table. “May I see them?” I grab the piece of paper with the address on it and follow her to her desk. While she types into her computer, I look at the scrap again. “She would have never ruined a book of value, a first edition. But she might if it’s a newer copy.” The librarian eyes me disapprovingly. “My mom loved to read.”
That seems to satisfy her, and she stands. “I’ll be right back with the books.”
I return to the table and sit, my knee bouncing anxiously. “This is it. I know it.”
Holding up her crossed fingers, Ally says, “I feel it, too.”
The librarian sets a small stack on the table, then moves her eyes from the scrap to the books. “The paper looks similar to Browning’s most popular book of poetry. This particular book is used for research if anyone needs it. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone ask for it, though since it’s not a collector’s edition.”
“This would have been eighteen years ago or longer.”
“Ah,” she says, “I’ve been here twelve.”
My heart starts racing as she fans the pages with her thumb. “Here we are. ‘Sonnets from The Portuguese XLIII.’ A perfect match.” She presses down on the page. “I’m not sure if I should be thrilled to solve the puzzle or charge you for the damage.”
When she starts to laugh, the others do as well, but I’m too stunned to react. “A perfect match,” I say, looking at the scrap and how it fits the page. Taking the book, I read the poem, though I know the words by heart, “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. My mom used to recite this to me while we painted each other’s nails.” I didn’t know I had any more tears left to cry, but happy tears bubble up from the memory.
Bennett moves his chair closer and wraps his arm around me. “I love you.”
Too choked up to say anything, I stare at his hand covering mine and relish his love.
He leans forward, squinting his eyes. “What’s that?” Pointing at the open page. I bend over the table to take a closer look. Written along the inside crease of the spine are tiny words in ink. “That’s a bank!” Bennett says.
“A bank? What is that number after it?” I ask.
Ally says, “A box. A safe deposit box.”
Bennett’s chair tips back when he bolts upright. He’s quick to pick it up and grab my hand. “We have to go.”
The librarian startles but picks up the book and hands it to me. “Take it. We can replace it.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much for helping us!”
Holding the book to my chest, we rush from the library to the SUV parked one block down. The bank is in the Financial District, and we’re hitting rush hour traffic. Tucked inside the vehicle, I say, “Now I’m stressed.”
“We’ll make it,” Bennett replies.
The fun we had on the way to the library has turned serious heading to the bank. It’s not like we can’t go tomorrow, but if we can make it today, we’ll know our next move as opposed to running through imaginary scenarios all night if we don’t.
As if my mom works her magic, the traffic clears in our lane, and we cruise through the green lights. At the curb, we file out, and I hurry inside with fifteen minutes to spare before closing. “Hi, where do I go for safe deposit boxes?”
The guard directs us to a desk, but when I look back, Bennett and the others have stayed behind. He says, “This is all you.”
I want to shout my love for this man from the rooftops, but I don’t have a moment to spare, so I’ll show him later. As soon as a banker greets me, I say, “I have a bank deposit box.”
She smiles. “I’ll be happy to help you. What’s the number and name?”
“1753.” I go with my mom’s name. “Nora Nobleman.”
She types in the information and then peeks up at me. Types some more and then leans toward me from the other side of the desk. “Do you have a key and ID?” Damn it.
“I have my ID. Nora’s my mother. She passed away.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” I take it as a good sign that she’s still waiting for my ID.
I dig it out of my purse and set it between us. She analyzes it while I add, “I don’t have a key.”
Pushing my ID back, she digs a key from the back of the drawer, and says, “It’s password protected. Do you know what you need?”
“What I need?”
“That’s the question I’m supposed to ask you, Ms. Nobleman,” she replies with an endearing smile.
What I need . . . like in the phrase. I roll the question around in my head, trying to remember everything my mother ever said to me. “Love? Mother? Mom? Nora? Am I limited?”
“I’m not a computer,” she says with a sympathetic laugh. “We’re only limited by the bank closing. Unfortunately, we close in ten minutes.”
I tap my nails nervously on the desk. “My name?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
Help me, Mom. What do I need? She didn’t know Bennett. I look back and see the others waiting patiently. I don’t want to disappoint them. What can it be? The click of my nails draws my attention, and I see the polish I had painted again the other day. “Stay the warrior you were born to be. Warrior blue. I need to be strong. I need to be a warrior.”
She pushes the key over to me and stands. “You’ll have privacy in the room, but please note we close in a few minutes.”
“Wait, what?” I pop up from the seat. “What did I say? Strong? Blue?” I gasp. “Warrior? Oh, my God!” Tilting my head back, I whisper, “Thank you, Mom.”
“Yes, Ms. Nobleman. Right this way.”
Looking back at Bennett, Ally, and Hutton, I jump and squeal, totally giddy. “Yes!”
I’m given a round of applause and take a bow. “I knew you could do it,” Bennett says.
We did it, Mom, I praise, my heart full knowing she’s been with me all along.
I’m quick to the room, knowing I only have two minutes. Locating the box, I stick the key in, my mind going wild with what could be inside. After I set the heavy metal box on the table, I lift the lid while holding my breath.
Then I release it, deflated when I find another envelope from the same law firm. “Okay, what is this?” Opening it, I pull out the folded letterhead and spread it flat on the table, reading it slowly.
And then again. Until the security guard knocks on the door. “Closing time.”
I glance from him back to the paper, reading the title once more before I fold it and stuff it back into the envelope. I don’t know what to think, and I’m too nervous to assume it’s what I think it is.
When the glass door opens, I rush from the room and straight into Bennett’s arms. “You will never believe it.”
40
Bennett
Night surrounds the legal offices of Everest Enterprises, and I keep the blinds closed because I don’t want anyone to see us in here. I also keep Winter away from the windows.
“I’ve put in a call to Mrs. Nobleman’s lawyer,” says Reegan, Everest Enterprises’ lead legal eagle. “He drafted the document, not leaving any room for interpretation. It’s straightforward. Based on the legal language, if Winter claims her rights under this document, she’ll own Nobleman Inc.”
This confirms what we suspected. Winter hasn’t said much in the past ten minutes as shock fully sets in. Still staring at the paper, she finally exhales. “Um . . . huh.”
Ally smiles and leans over. “Winter?”
“Yes?” She glances over at her.
“Do you have any questions?”
“I do.” She looks at Reegan. “Do you mind repeating it for me?”
Laughing, he replies, “Not at all. So this paragraph says that Nora Nobleman grants her stake in the corporation to the sole designated receiving party. This is where your name, Winter Renee Nobleman, has been filled in. This document is signed by her, your father, her lawyer, and has been notarized. It’s official and will hold up in court.”
“And that means?”
“That means if you sign here, you accept the agreement and can enforce it.” He glances at Winter, and then continues, “This paragraph notes that if you deem the company is not being held to previous standards of better business set forth in this paragraph—mishandling of funds, treatment of employees, poor decisions and bad deals, you can take back the rights from the current CEO and dismiss him without severance. How has the company been performing? Do you have data from the past five years?”
Winter grins. “I sure do.”
Her stint as a corporate spy with insider information has finally paid off.
She rests her elbow on the desk and gives the document a closer look. The office is so quiet I can hear her whispering to herself as she rereads each line. Again. Finally, she angles toward me, and says, “We have some firing to do.”
I chuckle. “We do indeed.”
* * *
“I remember when I showed up the Monday after I graduated with my briefcase in hand, my résumé tucked inside, and a head full of optimism.” She glances up at me. “I thought for sure I had done everything right. I thought my father would finally see me as an asset to the team.”
I ask, “What happened?”
“I did everything the right way by setting up an appointment with HR and letting him know I was taking the opportunity seriously.” She looks down at the file in her hand. “He wouldn’t take the meeting, and he told human resources to cancel theirs after they kept me waiting for two hours. For two hours, I sat inside those doors, making the receptionist uncomfortable with my presence as the family battle played out before her.”
“What an asshole.”
We waited until morning to take this next step. It’s a doozy for her. She drags the locket back and forth on the chain, and says, “You know what the worst part was? I actually believed him. He told me if I got the degree he wanted me to, the internships, and worked hard to pay my extra expenses, I would earn a place at the company. I did it all and still wasn’t accepted like my brother was without doing half as well.”
“You did it for you. Not him. You were proving you could. If he couldn’t see the value in what you had to offer, it’s his loss. But this will ultimately be his biggest loss of all. He’s about to lose his company, but more importantly, he loses you.”
“You’re an incredible man. You’ve given me your support from the moment we met. With you, I feel like my old self, a better version, and that feels damn good. So thank you.”
I gently massage her neck and then kiss her head. “I would have never let you slip into the competition’s hands. Not in business or personally. One of the things that first struck me about you was your obvious intelligence. As I’ve gotten to know you, I’m in awe of your gutsy attitude, your passion, your need to fight for what’s right. Your compassion for Chelsea is admirable. To help her wasn’t a choice for you. It was simply what you did. You, Winter, are an asset in so many ways, one I always intend to cherish.”
The elevator doors open, and Ethan arrives with Reegan, Aaron, and Lars.
Winter asks, “I’ve been thinking about last night. I stayed up all night reading and rereading every line in this document. My father’s signature means he acknowledged the agreement. Why would he do that?” I sigh, blowing out a bit of frustration. “I worry I might never know since my mother can’t tell me, and there’s no one else listed. Did you find out anything else?”
Ethan moves around to the front. “Once we knew where to look, we discovered more.”
“Of course,” I say, “skeletons aren’t meant to stay buried when covered in lies.”
Reegan hands Ethan an envelope. Ethan pulls the papers out and shows them to her. “Your mother and father started the company as partners and shared fifty-fifty. She worked there until she had children and then decided to stay home. Your father would run the day-to-day operations, but big decisions would be made jointly. The initial contract was amended when she took a step back to include that her approval was needed regarding decisions involving one million dollars or more.”
She takes the papers from him and smiles, pointing at her mother’s signature. “She had such pretty handwriting. It matched her heart.” After a quick pause, she says, “I’m catching the drift. Basically, he made decisions without her approval, which puts him in violation of the amended contract, giving me the right, as her designated representative, and the power to end his reign.”
“That’s correct,” Reegan says. “And since the profits have been squandered for personal gain, that’s how we double down on the claim. This contract gives you full ownership, including the debt, unfortunately.” He glances at Ethan and takes a step back. “And there’s a lot of debt.”
The silent exchange is not subtle, but then Ethan says, “Not more than the company is worth, though, so that’s good.”
I say, “They tried to have a sister and a daughter killed for whatever’s left. Life never meant anything to them.”
“My life never meant anything to them.” She presses to the side of me, quietly studying the company name in silver lettering on the bleached wood doors.
I take her hand. “This isn’t going to be easy, Winter, but you’re not doing it alone.”
Ethan steps toward the doors. “We should probably go in and take care of business while the element of surprise is on our side. Are you ready?”
“I don’t think my mom’s lawyer is coming, so I’m ready.” She lifts up on her toes and kisses me. “You’ll have my back?”
“Always.”
Winter hands the paperwork back to Ethan while holding the copy of the contract she found in the safe deposit box. She opens the door. The receptionist looks up in surprise to see the crowd, her eyes darting among us. “May I help you?”
She doesn’t even know who Winter is, for fuck’s sake. I have to remind myself not to punch her father’s and brother’s fucking lights out when I see them. Winter says, “I’m here to see my father, Ross Nobleman.”
“Oh. Um . . .”
“Winter Nobleman.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“No. He never saw me coming.”
She picks up the phone, but Winter is quick to cover her hand. With a smile, she says, “I want to surprise him.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Winter heads for the glass double doors and pulls them open. “Don’t worry. This won’t take long.”
Winter leads the way through the cubicles and past a row of offices with large windows. When I look back, Aaron is keeping the receptionist company. More importantly, he’s keeping her from giving a warning.
Winter stops at the door and knocks once before walking in. “Hello.”
Her father looks up and frowns. First, his gaze lands on the locket, then drifts from her to me, and to the others as we all file into his office. “Leave the door open,” I say.
“What are you doing here?” he asks. Wow. He just does not give a fuck. Crazy. If she weren’t so strong, I’d worry about her reaction, but my warrior is fierce. She’s weathered worse than the contempt on his face.
She moves in even closer, standing on the other side of his desk. “You couldn’t find what you were looking for. But guess what? I did. Right here in this memento. Mom has always been watching over me. Something you never did.”
His feigned innocence doesn’t bode well for him. “That necklace is a piece of junk.”
“Junk that’s worth a lot . . . worth everything really. To you and to me.”
Trying to intimidate her, he stands, p
resses his hands to the desk, and raises his voice. “What are you getting at, Winter? Say it and get out.”
She pops the paper open in front of her and holds it so he can see for himself. “The truth always comes out, and it has. You need to vacate the premises in five minutes or I’m calling the police.”
Snatching it away, he reads. “What is this?”
“Your execution.”
He balls up the paper and throws it at her face. Fuck him. I rush to knock him on his ass, but Lars and Ethan grab my arms, holding me back. “She can handle this,” Ethan says.
Her father laughs. “Yes, keep your animal under control.”
Winter hasn’t moved. She never even flinched when the paper hit her. What kind of life has she had that she doesn’t even react to his hostile act? “Winter?”
She angles back. “It’s okay. It’s just taking him a minute to process that his life is over. I’ve had years to get used to his absence. I can spare him the time to realize what he’s losing.”
Nobleman laughs again, but it never reaches his eyes. He knows he’s in trouble. He looks at me, and says, “You can have her, Everest. She’s no good just like her mother.” Directing his hate back to Winter, he adds, “I married her for money and got it all, every last cent her family left her.” He grabs his jacket and slips it on. “You coming in and claiming the company means nothing. A contract I signed under coercion will never hold up in court.”
“And how exactly were you coerced?”
He takes his phone from the top of the desk, and replies, “She caught me in bed with another woman, a younger more beautiful woman.” Winter’s indifferent expression slips, but he continues, “She was going to die anyway.”
“Shut your mouth.” Her voice is steady, but I see how her hands tremble. God, I want to help her, but she’s a warrior, and this is her dragon to slay.
“What’s the big deal? She wasn’t meeting my needs. That’s grounds for divorce. I saved her the embarrassment.”
Winter rushes toward him, but I catch her before she makes it across the top of the desk. “It’s okay, sweetheart. He’s not worth our energy.” Holding her around the waist, I can feel every heavy breath of hers. I hold my mouth to her ear, and whisper, “Tell him the good news.”
