When We Found Home

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When We Found Home Page 13

by Susan Mallery


  “Then let me talk,” she said, perched on the edge of her chair. “I need a job.”

  “What?”

  “I need to work. I have to be doing something with my day. I can’t just sit around here. Carmen keeps the house spotless and while Grandfather Alberto is a fascinating guy, I can’t expect him to entertain me.”

  “Okay.” He drew out the word. “What would you like to do?”

  Go back to college, she thought wistfully. No, she would like to be eighteen again, on the day of her birthday, and not screw up her whole life. That’s what she would like.

  “You know I’m a convicted felon, right?” she asked bluntly.

  Malcolm stiffened slightly. “Yes, but I—”

  “Don’t,” she told him. “Don’t say it doesn’t matter. Of course it matters. It’s something I have to carry with me every second of every day. It will never be out of my life.” She drew in a breath to get control. “I was in high school. I had fallen in with some bad kids who skipped school and did drugs. My boyfriend convinced me it would be fun to rob a liquor store. I was young and stupid and...” She paused. “That’s all I have. I was young and stupid. I wasn’t bad or evil, just foolish. I was scared, but I thought I had to do it to keep him, so I went along. What I didn’t know was he would use a gun and when we got caught, because he was a selfish jerk, that he would tell the police it was all me. I didn’t ask for a lawyer, I told them I did it and before I knew what was happening, I was convicted.”

  She met his gaze. “I was wrong. I’m not blaming anyone else. I take responsibility for what happened, just so you know. I served five years and I’ve been out for three. I lived in a halfway house and I did what I was supposed to do. In theory, I have paid my debt to society, only it’s never over. While I was in prison, I learned to cook. I worked in the kitchen and it was interesting and I got good at it, but I can’t get a job in a restaurant. I can’t get much of a job anywhere because they all have that box you have to check—the one about being a convicted felon.”

  She inhaled. “I worked nights cleaning offices and during the day I worked under the table for a caterer. I’m a good worker. I show up, I do my job. I just want to be like everyone else.”

  She realized she’d said too much—certainly more than he would want to know, so she pressed her lips together and waited.

  He studied her. “You do realize your grandfather started a business based on food. It must be in the blood.”

  “Like little tiny pie slices floating around?”

  One corner of his mouth turned up. “I wouldn’t have put it that way, but why not? You’re welcome to come work at the company. Just say the word.”

  “You’d give me a job there? Knowing what you know?”

  He hesitated just long enough for her to figure out he didn’t trust her. “Of course. For what it’s worth, Grandfather Alberto knows about your past, but we haven’t told Carmen or Keira.”

  Something she could be grateful for, she thought. “Thank you. And I would like a job at the company.” It would give her a local reference. If she had to take off, at least she would have that.

  “You can start tomorrow if you’d like.”

  “I would. Thank you.” She prepared to stand, but before she could duck out of the room, he spoke.

  “We should talk about money.”

  “You mean what you’re going to pay me?”

  He frowned. “No. The family money. I was waiting for you to get settled, but I probably should have told you sooner.” He opened a desk drawer and pulled out several envelopes. Two were legal size.

  “There’s a family trust,” he began. “Each of us—you, me and Keira—inherit a third of that. In addition, you own a part of the business and part of this house. There are restrictions—you can’t sell any part of the business. If you choose to walk away, then you lose your share of the company. The trust is different. That is fully yours regardless. You can’t touch the principle until you’re thirty-five, but you will receive a quarterly stipend.”

  He opened one of the envelopes and pulled out a checkbook. “This quarter’s payment has been made. I took the liberty of opening a checking account in your name. You need to go to the bank and sign some paperwork to activate it, but the money is already in the account.” He held out the checkbook.

  Her stomach turned over as unease settled over her. She didn’t want this, she thought. Despite what the lawyer in Houston had said, she wasn’t comfortable just being handed something for nothing. She didn’t know Malcolm or Grandfather Alberto. Why were they doing this? So what if Jerry was her father—she was a stranger.

  “Callie?”

  She took the checkbook and opened it. The neat printing blurred, cleared, then made her gasp. The opening balance was ten thousand dollars.

  “Are you kidding?” she asked before she could stop herself. “That’s what I get every quarter?”

  He nodded. “As I said, you can’t touch the principle until you’re thirty-five.”

  “H-how much is that?”

  “Five million.”

  “Dollars?” No. It wasn’t possible.

  “You’re allowed two additional withdrawals between now and your thirty-fifth birthday,” he said. “Of a hundred thousand each. If you wanted to buy a car or a house or something.” He passed over one of the large envelopes. “All the paperwork is in here, along with the name of our family lawyer. She can explain everything to you. Just call and say who you are, then make an appointment.”

  Right, because she always met with family lawyers. Yawn.

  Callie didn’t touch the envelope and she carefully put the checkbook back. “This is too much.”

  “I know it’s a lot to take in, but give it time. You’ll get used to it.” He put a small envelope on top of the larger one. “As part of locating you and determining if you were part of the family, we ran a credit check on you.” One eyebrow rose. “You don’t seem to exist in the credit world.”

  “I pay cash for everything.”

  His tone gentled. “You don’t have to, Callie. Not anymore. You’re going to need a credit history.” He tapped the envelope. “There are a couple of credit cards in there. Start using them. Pay them off every month. If you’re not sure how to build credit, we can talk about it or you can find some articles online.”

  Her head hurt and she felt sick to her stomach. If she’d eaten more than a single bite of the pancakes, she was pretty sure she would have thrown them up by now. No wonder he’d been so casual about buying her a car. He could afford to buy her three or three hundred.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

  “You’re family.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “That doesn’t matter. You’re Jerry’s daughter.” He hesitated. “And my sister.”

  She stood. “I don’t want it. Any of it. I just want a job.”

  “Be ready at seven fifteen tomorrow.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  She put the checkbook back on his desk and walked out. As she got to her room, she had a bad feeling that not taking the paperwork didn’t mean it wasn’t hers. No doubt she would find it in her room later. Malcolm might not be warm and fuzzy but he was thorough. According to him, she was now part of the family. Escaping seemed very unlikely.

  chapter eleven

  “This is so fun,” Keira said from the back seat of Malcolm’s car. “You’re going with us. The office building is really nice and Delaney works in the coffee stand in the lobby. I don’t think you’ve met her yet. She’s great. She looked after Lizzy while I was in hospital.”

  Malcolm appreciated his younger sister’s conversation. He had a feeling if he and Callie were alone in the car, the chill between them would freeze the engine.

  He had no idea what he’d done wrong. She’d blown up when he’d offered to
buy her a car and she’d been visibly upset when he’d told her about her trust fund. He wasn’t sure she’d even listened. Telling himself she needed time to adjust wasn’t working. He just wanted to know what the hell was going on.

  Keira talked the entire drive. Once he’d pulled into his reserved space in the parking garage, they took the elevator up to the street level, then walked through the large lobby. Keira made a beeline to the coffee stand, where Delaney was taking orders.

  For a second he looked at the stunning redhead and allowed himself to breathe. Everything was going to be all right, he told himself. Just as soon as she looked up and smiled at him.

  As if on cue, Delaney did exactly that. The humor in her green eyes was what he needed to help him relax. He smiled back before turning to his sister and motioning to the elevators. Callie followed him through the security gate and up to the top floor.

  He took her to his office and closed the door behind them. “There will be some paperwork to fill out,” he told her. “HR will come by later to take care of that.”

  He hesitated, not sure what else to tell her. He couldn’t talk about her clothes, even though he wanted to. They were in an office and there was a dress code—one he hadn’t told her about. So instead of tailored pants or a dress or a suit, Callie wore jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Given what she’d told him about her previous employment, it was possible that was all she ever wore, which made this slightly awkward situation his fault.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she said unexpectedly.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you expect me to blow up at you any second. I’m not mad.”

  “You weren’t happy about the car.”

  Her lips pressed together. “That was different.”

  “Want to tell me how?”

  “It just was.”

  “Well, that’s clear.”

  She glared at him. “This isn’t easy, okay? Just give me some time to figure it all out. I’m dealing with a lot.”

  “It was just a car.”

  “Maybe to you.” She put her hands on her hips. “Maybe to you, but to the rest of us, it’s a big deal.”

  He hesitated. “Is it because you’re afraid you won’t be able to get a license?”

  Her gaze narrowed. “You mean because I was arrested and convicted and served my time but I will forevermore be a convicted felon?”

  He didn’t know how to answer that, so he avoided the question and instead said, “I checked on the Washington State website. You can get your license with no problem. With your trust fund, you can buy whatever car you want and—”

  “I can’t drive,” she shouted, then lowered her voice and repeated. “I can’t drive. I never learned before I was arrested and it’s not like they teach driver’s ed in prison. After I got out, I never had the money for lessons, let alone a car, so I haven’t learned how. Are you happy? Any other humiliating secrets you want to know?”

  She stood in front of him, her shoulders square, her chin raised. Color stained her cheeks, so he knew she was embarrassed, but she didn’t back down. For one very confusing second, he wanted to hug her and tell her that it was going to be okay—that they might not know each other very well, but she was family and he had her back. Only he didn’t know her, didn’t trust her and, to be honest, he didn’t have her back.

  “Keira was not this complicated,” he muttered.

  Callie looked like she was going to say something, but instead she crossed to the window. “Nice view.”

  “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll arrange for lessons,” he told her. “I’m not sure of all the particulars but I believe you sign up with a state-approved company and they take you from getting your permit through getting your license.”

  She looked at him. “Thank you.”

  “You’ll be more comfortable with that, I think.”

  “Rather than you teaching me?” Her brows rose. “I think we’ll both be more comfortable with that.”

  He smiled. “Probably.” He let the smile fade. “Callie, I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “We’re not fighting. Believe me, this is not fighting. It’s not a fight until the guards show up.”

  “We don’t have guards.”

  “I meant metaphorically.” She looked around at his large office. “I really don’t belong here.”

  “You’re Grandfather Alberto’s oldest granddaughter. This is exactly where you belong.”

  “Right. Okay, what about the job?”

  He hesitated. He had no idea of her skill set, but she was family and...

  Her gaze narrowed. “You made something up, didn’t you? Or you’re going to.”

  “You mentioned working in catering. We have a food development division. You could start there.”

  Her expression was unreadable. “As what? Do I have a title?”

  “Ah, I was thinking maybe as a director.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Do I have an office like this one?”

  “It’s a little smaller, but yes.”

  She swore under her breath. “I don’t want this. Not any of it. Not the money or the house or the business or the fake job. I just want—” She turned away for a second, then looked back at him. “I’m out of here.”

  “Stop,” he said before she could even take a step. “You’re not going anywhere. I don’t know if you have a history of running when it gets hard, but you’re not running from this. You are Alberto’s oldest granddaughter and by God, you will suck it up and figure out how to make it work. He’s an old man who has already lost his only child. Now that he’s found you, he’s not going to lose you, too.”

  Not on his watch, Malcolm thought grimly. He wasn’t going to be responsible for that, as well.

  “You can’t make me stay,” she taunted.

  “No, I can’t, but I will hunt you down and do everything in my power to make your life hell if you walk out.”

  “You’re threatening me?”

  “If I have to.” He told himself this was not the way to make things work with Callie. He could feel it in his gut. He sucked in a breath.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I shouldn’t have said that. The truth is he wants you around and I love him and want him happy. He’s the only family I have. Callie, please, give it a try. For him. You can hate my guts all you want, but don’t hurt him.”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “We’re not exactly getting along.”

  “That’s because you have a stick up your ass. Loosen up and be human.”

  “You could try being less defensive. Not every slight is because you went to prison.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “You’re a pompous jackass.”

  “You’re a professional victim too scared to try.”

  “You need to spend more time with Keira.”

  The shift in subject caught him off guard. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because it’s true. She’s not settling in well. She’s scared and there’s too much stuff going on. You should be there more.” She folded her arms across her chest. “All right, enough with the name calling. I’m not going to be the senior vice president of something made up.”

  He was having trouble keeping up with her. “You were only going to be a director.”

  “Whatever. I have a GED I earned in prison and a few units of an AA. I’m not exactly executive material. When I had lunch with Grandfather Alberto, he told me about the company. Don’t you, like, make food and ship it across the country?”

  “Yes.”

  “So there’s a factory. I could do that. Work on an assembly line or sweep floors. I want a real job, Malcolm. Not something fake.”

  His grandfather would have a fit, he thought, but it was better than her walking out on them. “Okay, if that’s what makes you happy. The
factory is in the SoDo district. I’ll take you there.”

  “Great.” She hesitated. “Can we do this without telling them who I am? I mean I already have a different last name. Do they have to know I’m your sister?”

  He knew what she meant—being one of the family would make her different and he already knew Callie just wanted to be like everyone else.

  “No one has to know,” he told her. “About who you are or your past. I’ll make sure no one knows anything.”

  She visibly relaxed. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Do you promise not to take off without telling me first? And by that I mean in person while giving me a chance to change your mind.”

  She paused just long enough for him to know she was thinking about her answer. Her shoulders slumped a little.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “No disappearing in the night. But because of our grandfather. There’s no other reason.”

  “There doesn’t have to be.”

  * * *

  “I feel old,” Malcolm whispered.

  Delaney chuckled even as tiny shivers rippled down her spine. Maybe they were from his warm breath, or the fact that they were standing close together as they waited in line in front of Din Tai Fung in the University District. There were over a dozen couples or groups waiting for a table at the popular restaurant, but being so close to the University of Washington campus, the demographic was decidedly on the young side.

  “Because of all the college students?” she asked, her voice teasing. “Hmm, when did you graduate from UW?”

  “Looking at them, about a million years ago.” He grinned. “Okay, it was twelve years ago.”

  She looked into his dark blue eyes. “Well, darn, we just missed each other. I graduated seven years ago so we weren’t on campus at the same time.”

  “Too bad. I would have noticed you for sure.”

  She smiled even as she remembered Malcolm noticing her or not wouldn’t have been an issue. She’d been dating Tim and had always been true to him.

  When Malcolm had called and asked her to dinner, she’d regretfully told him she had a study group for her calculus class until six and that she had to be at work by five thirty in the morning.

 

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