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For The Love of Easton : A Single Parent Romance and Sequel to For The Love of English

Page 11

by A. M. Hargrove


  “Why do you think Sherman did it?”

  “Mom. He and Mother are thick and probably have been having a relationship for years.”

  Stanton nodded. “Makes sense. Dad was considerably older.”

  “True, but Sherman was Dad’s friend. That’s disgusting any way you look at it.”

  “Oh, I’m not condoning it in any way. I’m just not surprised. Mother was always a cold fish.”

  “She should’ve picked someone other than him. Regardless, he’s out of our hair now, and she’ll be paying the price. I’m reducing her monthly stipend.”

  Stanton’s brows rose. “Can you do that?”

  “I sure can. As the executor, I received all power to do that. Mom does receive money, but Dad must’ve known some shenanigans were going on because he added a codicil that Sherman didn’t share with us. It stipulates I can change her stipend, if I so deem. Oh, and before I forget, I’ve updated my will so if anything should happen to me, you inherit everything I did and if something happens to you, Landry does. I’m keeping it out of the hands of the greedy ones.”

  Stanton hobbled back to bed and I assisted him to get situated. “Thanks for that.” He offered me a snarky grin.

  “Anytime. Okay, I’m off for my chat. I’ll see you later this week.”

  Mother and Ravina waited for me as I entered the drawing room. Ravina glanced at her diamond-encrusted watch and said, “I thought you stated three. It’s three-twenty.”

  “I’ve been upstairs with Stanton.”

  “You could’ve texted.”

  “As could you. How’s the job hunt?”

  “A disaster.” She pouted.

  “Oh? What’s going on?”

  She stood, did a circle around the room in her designer outfit, then sank back onto the settee. “All those inferior people ask me such mundane questions. ‘What are your qualifications? Why do you want this position? Why should we hire you?’ As if my name doesn’t speak for itself.”

  Was she serious? Of course she was. Christ, the woman was a pain in my ass. “Let me fill you in on something. You’re not the queen of England. No one is inferior to you, Ravina. In fact, it’s the opposite. You’re close to thirty years old, college-educated with zero experience. And why’s that? Because you are a spoiled lazy brat. Besides that, you’re most unpleasant to be around with your better-than-thou attitude. My suggestion is change. Change it all because in two weeks, your allowance gets cut to nearly nothing.”

  “You can’t do that to me.”

  “I can and I will.”

  “Mother, make him stop.”

  “Sorry, Ravina, but Mother is powerless in this. She can’t help you. But don’t worry, you won’t starve. You’ll have a roof over your head and food to eat. However, if you don’t get a job, you’ll receive no spending money each month. I will cancel your disbursement.”

  Her nostrils flared and she stood. “Fine,” she spat, and then flounced out of the room.

  Mother looked down her cosmetically altered nose at me, though how she did it I didn’t know, since I was much larger than her. “That went well, Tristian.”

  “I thought so. As for you, I thought you should know I fired Sherman this morning.”

  She paled as her jaw slackened. “Y-you what?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me. It didn’t take long for my attorneys to find out what the two of you had tried without success. Stanton will run the company, along with Landry. Your stipend will be reduced as of today. You can live here as long as you want, though.”

  “What? My stipend reduced? How can you?”

  “It’s easy, believe me, Mom.” She despised it when we called her that, but I relished in it. The ice queen was getting doused with hot water today and we would see how she dealt with it. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be back later this week.”

  I left, not taking another look back. Once in the car, I made a call to Ryan Cooper, asking him to check on Stanton’s car. “I have a feeling the steering was sabotaged. Locate the car and have it thoroughly checked for anything unusual. My brother was meticulous with his vehicles. If there was something wrong, he would’ve known.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  English

  Stacey’s laugh was so obnoxious I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

  “Oh, God, you just made my day. I adore that kid of yours. She’s priceless.”

  “Priceless? I was mortified. When she asked to see his weenus, I pretty much choked.”

  “At least she was supplying you with a great opening.”

  “Opening? She dug a deep hole and I fell right into it. Good Lord! And what about the marriage part? It couldn’t possibly get any worse. Where the hell did she learn all that? I’ve never ever talked about it.”

  “I loved that she told him he wouldn’t want to marry anyone who wasn’t pretty.”

  “No, just no. That was crossing the line and too much. I’ve never talked about anything remotely like that. We don’t discuss how pretty people are. I’m concerned she’s hearing this stuff at school.”

  “It’s possible. You know how kids are these days and everyone on TV and in the movies is beautiful. But just for the weenus line, I’m buying her something special.”

  “Don’t you dare. She is so spoiled already. The last thing she needs is another toy.”

  “Fine, I’ll take her to the movies then.”

  The buzzer sounded, meaning someone had come into the office. Then I saw Tristian stride past my door.

  “You there?” Stacey asked.

  “Oh, sorry. He just got to work.”

  “Does that mean you have to go?”

  “No, I just haven’t seen him in the last couple of days. He’s been taking care of personal business. His dad died and all that.”

  “Right. Well, go talk to the hottie.”

  “Stop.” But I’d already started perspiring. “I have to go. Talk later.”

  I grabbed some tissues out of the box and was dabbing the sweat away from under my arms when a shadow fell across my desk. Glancing up, I saw him standing there. Why didn’t I ever shut my damn door?

  “Uh, hi.” I quickly stuffed the tissues into the trash bin under my desk.

  “Hi. You okay?”

  “Fine. Great. Excellent. You?” I rattled off like an idiot.

  “Crazy. Family stuff. You sure you’re okay? You’re sort of flushed. Do you have a fever?”

  “Nope. No fever. Just a little warm in here.” I fanned my face, which was probably as red as a beet.

  “Lunch today?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Great. I’ll come get you.” He double-tapped the door and left.

  Aw, fuck. I should’ve said no. Having a relationship with him was such a bad idea. Why had I said yes? I was so stupid. Stupid in lust. The guy was a cherry lollipop I wanted to lick. Or maybe a Fudgsicle. I loved Fudgsicles.

  After he’d stuck his head in my office, my brain was consumed with images of him. I slapped my head, hoping to knock some sense into myself. Finally, lunch time arrived and he knocked.

  “You ready?”

  “As ever. Where to?”

  “I have a place I think you’ll like.”

  We rode over to a small deli not too far away. I’d never been there, but the food was delicious. As we ate, a blob of mustard plopped on my shirt. Not only did it fall, it landed square on my boob. I wiped it but only made it worse. Why had I worn a T-shirt, and a white one at that? I had dressed a bit on the sloppy side, not expecting him to be in today. He’d been gone for the week so I’d figured he’d miss today too.

  His finger made a little circle. “Um, that looks kind of bad.”

  “Yeah, I’m a klutz so I carry one of these.” I reached into my purse and pulled out a stain pen. “Plus, having a six-year-old, this comes in handy.” Not giving it a thought, I went to work on the stain, and it cleared up the mustard issue while creating a perfectly transparent background. My lacy bra shone through like a boob bu
llseye.

  “Yeah, that’s, um, better,” he coughed out.

  Sure it was. Good thing it would dry soon and be gone. But his eyes kept straying there as we talked. I finally snapped my fingers and said, “Hey, eyes up here,” and pointed to mine.

  He made a funny face and said, “Busted.” Then he told me what was going on with his family. His mother must be a real viper, but the sister sounded like she needed a swift kick in the ass.

  “Think your plan will work?”

  “They don’t have a choice. I’m in control now, so it’s my way or the highway.”

  “I’m sure that went over well.”

  “Yeah, I’m waiting for my sister to stab me in my sleep.”

  “What?”

  He laughed. “I’m kidding, but it’s time she takes responsibility for herself. She hasn’t so far and I’m doing my best to teach her how. And my mother… she is beyond help, I’m afraid. But her betrayal was too much.”

  “Betrayal?”

  Tristian explained about the situation with the attorney and how he’d fired him.

  “Wow, you really have had your hands full.”

  He leaned back and was quiet for a second. “You know something? This has brought my brothers and me much closer. I was under the impression my father was angry and didn’t want me to succeed as a photographer, but I learned he felt the opposite. I wish we were still alive so I could thank him. It’s sad that his death achieved something I never saw happening.”

  I automatically reached for his hand. “I’m happy you’re closer to your brothers now. I grew up in a home filled with love and happiness so I can’t imagine it any other way.”

  He blinked several times and turned away. “I was shipped off to boarding school when I was ten. My mother didn’t want the responsibility of kids. Funny thing about that, she didn’t have it anyway. We each had a nanny to care for us.”

  “Ten? My God, you were so young.”

  His lip curled as he said, “She wanted us to go earlier but my dad wouldn’t allow it. It was awful, but I had my older brother there for support. I can’t imagine what he went through.”

  “I’m sorry. Your mom missed out on so much. Kids are the best. I mean they’re bright and funny.”

  “I realized that the other day at your house. Easton is quite a pistol.”

  Shit. Why had he brought that up? I’d been trying to avoid that embarrassing conversation. “Yeah, sorry about that. She doesn’t have much of a filter and gets carried away sometimes. I think since it’s just the two of us, she is much more talkative because she doesn’t have to share me with anyone.”

  He nodded. “Makes sense, but she’s quite a comedian.”

  “Don’t tell her that. She’ll try to put on shows for you.”

  “Shows?”

  “Any kind of shows. She’ll dance, sing, try to act funny, just about anything. But hey, I don’t want to be that parent who always talks about their kid.”

  “You’re not. I was the one who brought it up. Not to mention I love to hear about her. She’s great.”

  I laughed. “The best thing she ever did was throw up on Stuart.”

  “The dude who tried to strangle you?”

  “Yeah.” Why had I brought that asshole up? That wasn’t very wise.

  “How did that happen?”

  “He met us out for lunch one Saturday. I had a momentary loss of sanity when I agreed to that.”

  Tristian grabbed my hand and in a grave tone said, “Please don’t ever have anything to do with him again.”

  “I don’t plan on it until we go to court.”

  His compelling gaze had me staring right back.

  “Is that a promise?”

  I slowly tipped my head up and down.

  We got back to work and, speak of the devil, my phone rang.

  “English, it’s Clayton Summers. I’m calling to let you know that Stuart has been released and we have a court date. It’s set for the following month. We’ll meet beforehand to prepare everything. There is an order of protection out on Stuart. He is not to come near you or your daughter.”

  “Should I be frightened?”

  “No, but if he makes an appearance at your home, call the police immediately. Do not engage with him at all. And call me for anything.”

  “Thank you, I will.”

  I wanted to go get Easton out of school and hug her. The school had been notified that no one, absolutely no one was to get her except my parents or me. I would make a call and remind them now. After I did that, I called my mom to let her know about the situation.

  “Mom, I’m really scared.”

  “Don’t worry, honey. It’ll be handled and when he goes to prison for assault and battery, you won’t have to deal with him anymore.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “If you want, I’ll pick up Easton, and you can come straight home. Then you won’t have to worry about making that extra stop.”

  “That’s great. Thank you, Mom.”

  I left work early because I wasn’t getting anything done. I got home and tried to get something accomplished before Easton arrived, but it was useless. It was a beautiful day, so I decided to wait on the front porch. I sat down on one of the chairs and, as I flipped through the emails on my phone, I heard the voice I’d come to despise again.

  “Well, look at the princess sitting on her throne.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tristian

  I was on the way to pay a visit to my brothers when the phone rang.

  “Mr. Baines, it’s Ryan Cooper. I’ve looked at your father’s will from every possible angle. The clause about your being married is firm. There is no feasible way around it. If you aren’t married by the end of this year, everything in the estate will go to the charity your father chose.”

  My damn stomach hit the floor and I almost had to pull the car off the road. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. There is nothing that can be done or I would suggest it to you.”

  “Fine,” I bit off. “Thanks for checking into it.”

  Stanton was in a chair when I arrived. I was so out of it, I couldn’t speak at first.

  “You’re going to wear out your shoes if you don’t stop.”

  “I’ll buy new ones.”

  “Can you tell me what the problem is? I know Mother and Ravina are bitchy, but—”

  “It’s not them.” My lips pressed together for a second before I launched into my… complication. “I spoke with the attorney and Dad royally put the screws to me.”

  “What do you mean?” I had his full attention now.

  “The marriage thing in the will is solid. No way around it. I have to have a Mrs. Baines by the end of the year, or everything in the estate goes to charity.”

  His eyes widened, then he grinned. “You’re fucking with me. You had me for a second.”

  “Stanton, I am not fucking with you. This is legit.”

  He slanted his head. “I don’t get it. The company has never been better. Business is soaring. Why now?”

  “No idea. I was going to ask you. And why me? You should be the one going through this.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, dammit. You’re the oldest.”

  My brother grabbed his crutch and went to stand. As I attempted to assist him, his hand shot out. “I’ve got this. I’m getting stronger by the day and therapy is helping.” I was proud of his progress as I watched. “Tris, Dad was extremely proud of how much you built your business on your own, so I get why he left you in charge. He always told me I was too reckless in my personal life and we often had words over it. But I’m baffled over the marriage part.”

  My brother and I stared at each other. Then he snapped his fingers. “Heirs.”

  “What?” I stupidly asked.

  “Dad used to get after me about serious relationships because I was only with women for the sex. He knew it and said it was disappointing. Maybe he thought you were different.”

&
nbsp; A spiteful laugh came out of me. “I’m not. Maybe if Dad had married a loving woman, we both would’ve been different. The last thing I want is to have kids. Every time that thought enters my mind, all I can think of is how we were raised and what an awful life it was. I didn’t remotely enjoy life until I left this family, sorry to say.”

  “I get it. Mother didn’t make it easy on us.”

  “Why the fuck did Dad marry her?”

  Stanton moved in front of me. “You honestly don’t know?”

  “No, or I wouldn’t be asking.”

  “He loved her, hard as that pill is to swallow.”

  Was my brother still on pain meds? How could anyone love that iceberg of a woman?

  “Dad and I talked a lot, and I mean about everything. The family, you, Mother. He told me he fell so hard for her the first time they met, he had trouble functioning. He knew how she was toward us. She never wanted kids. He was the one who did. She made him promise we’d go to boarding school and have nannies. He kept the promise. He regretted that he was away so much because she never spent time with us, but as he said, she was upfront about that from the beginning.”

  I took a seat in an empty chair next to the one he’d vacated. My temples throbbed as I massaged them in hopes of alleviating the ache. “Do you remember how I used to come into your room when we were young, like not much older than five or six?”

  “Yeah. You’d come running if there was a bad thunderstorm.”

 

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