The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge

by Stewart, Mariah

  Jesse brushed off her concern with a wave of his hand.

  “I can get back to this later.” He returned all the papers to the file on his desk and set it aside. “Besides, I can always make time for a friend.”

  “Thanks, Jesse.” She sat and opened her bag again, this time removing a fat envelope. “I know I should have done all this sooner, but it’s just been so hard to deal with—”

  “No need to explain,” he replied. “I can only imagine how difficult these past few years have been for you.”

  “I really appreciate that you’re so understanding.” Her shoulders relaxed a bit. “I want to make sure that Logan’s interests are protected should anything happen to me. And there’s this matter of the business Eric had started with his brother …”

  “We can take care of everything for you,” Jesse assured her. “One thing at a time. Now, did you bring your existing will with you?”

  “I have the one Eric and I made after Logan was born, and I have the one he made right before he left the last time.” She opened the folder and sorted through the papers. “You must think I’m an airhead. I apologize for not having these papers in better order.”

  “I don’t think anything of the sort. Take your time.” He glanced at the clock. He could easily drag this out until lunch was delivered.

  “This is the one Eric and I made together.” She handed him a folded sheaf of papers with her right hand, and with her left, passed him a file. “And this is the one Eric made on his own.”

  “Thanks. Give me a minute or two to look these over.”

  “Of course.”

  From the corner of his eye, he could see her looking around his office, and he wished he’d spent a little time adding some personal touches to the decor. He wondered what she thought that portrait of his great-great-grandfather hanging over the corner fireplace said about him.

  Then again, since he wasn’t sure how long he’d be staying in St. Dennis—his employment being dependent on the whims of his grandfather—he hadn’t spent much time thinking about decorating the office.

  “This is all pretty standard.” Jesse held up the joint will. “You leave everything to each other, and in the case that you are both deceased, the estate goes to Logan.”

  Brooke nodded.

  “I don’t see anything about a business, though.” Jesse frowned and searched for a possible codicil.

  “That’s all in Eric’s last will,” Brooke told him. “He and his brother had agreed to go into business when Eric came home before his last deployment. His brother started up the business while he was gone, but Eric provided half the funding. It’s all in there.” She pointed to the file he was opening.

  “Let’s see what we have here …” Jesse began to read. When he got to the end, he looked up at Brooke. “So your husband and his brother agreed to go fifty-fifty on this business, with the brother actually running it until Eric left the service.”

  “Right.”

  “What kind of business are we talking about?”

  “Landscaping. His brother has a degree in landscape architecture, and wanted to start his own business. Eric totally supported him in that, and was going to work with him when he retired from the military.”

  “What contact have you had with”—Jesse scannned the will for the name—“Jason Bowers since Eric’s death?”

  “Jace was at the funeral, of course,” Brooke replied. “And he always remembers to send Logan presents on his birthday and at Christmas. We talk on the phone once in a while—less and less as time goes on, though.”

  “And what does he have to say about this business?”

  “Not a whole lot. He says he’s busy and that things are going well.”

  “He never asked if you wanted him to buy you out or pay you back for the money Eric invested? Has he ever referred to the financial arrangement he had with his brother?”

  “He did broach the subject right after the funeral, but I sort of waved it off. I told him I thought that was all between him and Eric.” She looked a little sheepish. “I probably should have pursued it, shouldn’t I? At the time I just wasn’t up to having that conversation.”

  “Obviously, you were distraught back then. We can touch base with him and find out the particulars. You’re certainly entitled to know how the business is doing. If nothing else, you want to know if it’s profitable or if it’s operating at a loss.”

  “I don’t really want to be involved with it,” she was quick to add. “I mean, that was his and Eric’s thing, you know? I don’t want him to think I want to be involved or that I’m somehow threatening him.”

  Jesse held up a hand to stop her from continuing.

  “There’s no need to threaten him or to put him on the defensive in any way. But since your husband put up half the money, and owned half of the business, Jason should be more than willing to let you know how things are going, since Eric’s half is now your half.”

  “I don’t want half of the business,” she explained. “But I do want to make sure that whatever Eric invested in that business is secured for my son.”

  “Would you feel better contacting him yourself?”

  When she hesitated and appeared uncertain, he added, “Or I could write a quick letter letting him know I’m the family attorney and as such, I’m looking into any assets Eric might have had that might go into a trust for Logan.”

  “Could you do that?” Her face brightened. “Could you do it in a way that doesn’t make him think I’ve gone all lawyer on him?”

  When she realized what she’d said, she laughed self-consciously. “Not that there’s anything wrong with lawyers.”

  Jesse smiled. “Yes, I can do it in a way that doesn’t sound like you’re suspicious of him. I’m assuming that’s what you meant?”

  Brooke nodded. “That’s exactly what I meant. I’m not even questioning why he hasn’t sent me a status report from time to time. But I would like to know if he’s still in business … well, according to Google, he is. And if anyone’s to blame for failing to follow up, it’s me.”

  “Don’t give it a second thought.” Jesse made some notes on a pad of paper. “I’ll take care of it. Now, we need to work on a new will, and I’m guessing you’re going to want—”

  “Jesse, excuse me, but lunch just arrived.” Liz announced over the intercom. “Do you want me to take it into the back?”

  Jesse pretended to be surprised, and looked down at his watch as if unable to believe it was already past noon.

  “No, I’ll come out for it.”

  “I’m heading out for lunch now, unless you need me for something,” Liz told him.

  “No, go ahead. Take your time.” Jesse turned to Brooke as he hung up the phone. “Excuse me for a minute.”

  “Jesse, we can reschedule to finish this up if this is an inopportune time …” Brooke began.

  “Not at all. Sit tight.” Jesse went into the front room, where Liz sat, and picked up the box from the Checkered Cloth, a relatively new take-out place that had quickly established a reputation for fine food. He came back into the office, this time leaving the door open, and placed the box on his desk.

  “Don’t you love getting takeout from this place?” Jesse moved things around on his desk to make room. “They make the best stuff.” He looked up at Brooke. “I hope you don’t have plans for lunch. I took the liberty of ordering for both of us since I figured we’d be working straight through an hour or so.”

  He removed a few wrapped items and peeled back the foil. “Chicken salad.” He peered into the box. “Tossed salads, éclairs. And two bottles of water.”

  Next he unpacked napkins and plastic cutlery. “We can talk about your new will while we eat. One stone. Two birds.”

  “Thank you, Jesse. This is very thoughtful of you. And eating now will save me time. I have a two o’clock class.”

  “Perfect. We’ll be done before then and you’ll make it to class without having to talk yourself out of a quick run through the g
olden arches.” He unpacked the entire box and passed a sandwich, salad, dessert, and water across the desk to Brooke. “One of your cupcakes would make this the perfect lunch.”

  “Their éclairs are sinful, though,” Brooke told him as she unwrapped the sandwich. “Clay brought some home a week or so ago. Chloe does a great job on everything.”

  “True enough. Without her and a few other establishments in town, I’d starve to death.”

  “Not a cook?” she asked.

  “Not much of one,” he admitted. “I always say I’m going to get a few good cookbooks and teach myself some basic things, but I haven’t had time.”

  “You only need one really good cookbook. Something sort of basic but not idiot-basic. Something that gives you recipes that are easy and fast and good.”

  “That’s exactly what I need.”

  “I’ll find a good one for you. I have a lot of cookbooks at the farm. Between Clay and me, I’ll bet we have fifty or sixty of them. I’ll see if I can find one that might work for you.”

  “I’d appreciate that. Thanks.” He took a bite of his sandwich, but barely tasted it. All he could think was, Yes! His subtle plan was working!

  Then, to keep the conversation on the personal side, he asked, “Does Clay do a lot of cooking?”

  Brooke rolled her eyes. “He thinks he’s, I don’t know, one of those guys on Food TV. Takes his food very seriously these days. It’s hard to believe, but he’s become a better cook than Mom ever was. He was like you, I guess, after Mom and Dad turned the farm over to him and moved to Myrtle Beach. He knew some basics, but he had a lot to learn if he didn’t want to eat out twice a day. Which he wouldn’t want to do, because he’s so into food—assuming, of course, that it’s organic and locally grown. He’s become almost militant about what he eats, but he’s got quite a repertoire of recipes.”

  “I guess a farmer—one who grows all the vegetables and fruits that Clay grows—would have to believe in what he’s doing.”

  “That’s exactly what he says.” She put down her sandwich. “Clay has never wanted to do anything but farm, and he’s always looked for ways to grow his crops without using pesticides. He’s been way ahead of the popular movement in that respect. My dad was, too.”

  “Clay and Wade MacGregor were talking about starting a brewery together.” Jesse started on his salad, taking his time. “Is that off the table now?”

  “Oh, no.” Brooke shook her head. “They’re both totally into the whole concept of brewing organic beer. They’ve already found organic seed for the hops and barley they want to plant in the spring. I heard Clay on the phone the other day talking to someone about organic rye seed.” She grinned. “But I predict that, for Wade, the actual growing part is going to be a life-changing experience.”

  “How so?”

  “He’s never grown anything before. Never operated farm equipment. It’s not the same as being the brewer. When Wade was in Texas, everything that went into his beer was delivered to him. Growing it all from scratch, that’s a whole ’nother thing. There’s a lot of physical work that goes into getting the fields ready. Planting. Fertilizing. Irrigating. And those are just the things you can control.”

  “Oh.” Jesse nodded. “I think I’ll stick with law.”

  “Yeah, farming’s not my cup of tea either.” She opened her container of salad. “I hated it growing up. All the chores, you know? But I’m so grateful that Clay is who he is. It would break my heart to see the farm sold, maybe have a bunch of town houses slapped up. It’s been in our family for so many generations. It’s comforting to think it will be intact for Logan and any kids that Clay might have one day.”

  “Like this place,” Jesse said. “My great-great-great-grandfather started this firm. An Enright has been in practice here every generation since.”

  “Handling legal matters for the Madisons, did you know?”

  “I think my grandfather may have mentioned that.” Actually, Jesse’d found the old files of many a St. Dennis family in the attic and had gone through them when he first moved to St. Dennis, before his grandfather was spending more than a few cursory hours each week with him.

  “Are you the last lawyer in your family? I know your uncle Mike has his generation covered.”

  “My sister Sophie is a lawyer.”

  “How did your father manage to break away from the family tradition and avoid law school?”

  “He didn’t.” He paused to tamp down the snap that was about to rise in his voice. She had no way of knowing who and what his father was. “He went to law school.”

  “How was he able to avoid getting roped into the family firm?”

  By being a crook and a womanizer and a total screwup.

  “He followed another path,” Jesse said simply, and prayed she’d let it go at that.

  “How is your aunt? I know everyone’s been worried about her.”

  “My uncle stopped in for a few minutes last week, and he said she’s hanging in there but she’s still very ill and isn’t expected to recover.”

  “That is so sad.” Brooke twisted the cap off her water bottle. “Andrea has always been such a sweet and cheery woman, you know?”

  “To tell you the truth, I don’t really know her or my uncle well at all.” There was no point in trying to explain to her why.

  “Oh.” She drank from the bottle for a moment. “Well, I can tell you they’re both pretty terrific people.”

  “So I’ve heard.” From just about everyone in St. Dennis, he could have added. Everyone in town seemed to know his relatives better than he did.

  His uncle Mike just happened to stop into the office the first week Jesse started there. Jesse knew the man had come to look him over, afraid, no doubt, that Jesse was too much his father’s son and therefore was unworthy to tread the hallowed halls of Enright and Enright. The memory of his uncle’s unconcealed scrutiny—the skepticism in Mike Enright’s eyes as he openly evaluated Jesse and obviously found him lacking—still rankled. Even though Jesse knew he’d proven himself over and over since that day, and even though his uncle had come around and actually seemed to like him, that first meeting, where he’d been dismissed as nothing more than a chip off of Craig Enright’s block, someone who’d come to St. Dennis with some sense of entitlement toward the family firm, still rankled.

  Then again, who better to know Craig’s character than his brother?

  “Why did you decide to come to St. Dennis?” she asked.

  “Why?” He thought for a moment. “My grandfather was retiring, my uncle wasn’t in a position to take over for him, so it just seemed like the thing to do.”

  “Will you stay on when Mike comes back? After Andrea … you know.” She obviously couldn’t bring herself to say, After Andrea passes.

  “We’ll see.” He hadn’t wanted to think about his uncle Mike coming back and wanting to head up the firm, but he was aware that he might have to deal with that at some point. For now, he was keeping things afloat here and doing a damned good job of it, and that’s all Jesse was focusing on. “I don’t know what my uncle’s plans are.”

  “Well, we’re all hoping for a miracle.” Brooke finished both her salad and her sandwich and looked for a place to dispose of the wrappings. Jesse slid the box toward her side of the desk and she tossed everything in.

  “I can’t believe I ate all that,” she told him. “I guess I was hungrier than I realized.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been burning the midnight oil.”

  Brooke nodded. “I have been baking every minute of every day for the past week. The only exceptions are when I’m sleeping or in class. The rest of the time, I’m either whipping something up to put in the oven, or waiting for something to finish baking.”

  “Do you count little cupcakes to help you fall asleep at night?”

  “Believe me, I have no trouble falling asleep these days.” Brooke laughed. “Though I do make these minicupcakes that look like little lambs. I suppose if need be, I could envision
them being tossed over a fence and count them as they flew by.”

  “Sounds like your business is really taking off.”

  “It’s starting to. I need to streamline my game plan so that things flow a little smoother, but all in all, I have no complaints. Tomorrow I have an appointment with Frank over at Krauser’s to see about having this old van of Clay’s fixed up so I can use it for deliveries.” She rested her chin in her hand, and a lock of strawberry blond hair fell over her forehead. She eased it behind her ear. “I’m going to try to use the van to sell from for a while, until I can make enough to get a storefront in town. I used to think I just wanted to sell from the van, but I changed my mind after being around Scoop and Bling. There’s a permanance about them that I hadn’t realized I wanted until I started hanging around with Steffie and Vanessa. Even Dallas is going for a permanent home for her film business here in St. Dennis. It just got me thinking …” Her voice trailed away.

  “Thinking about what?”

  “About how maybe it was time to set roots.” She grew quiet for a moment. “I never thought about moving back here, but I’m glad I did.”

  “So am I,” he couldn’t help but add.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here, too.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m happy to have someone my own age to share my legal issues with. This way, I won’t have to worry about breaking in a new lawyer when you decide to retire, the way so many people in town have had to switch from your grandfather …” She stopped and shook her head. “I don’t mean that to sound in a negative way.”

  “I didn’t take it in a negative way. I’ve tried to accommodate my grandfather’s older clients and reassure them that they’ll continue to have the same fine representation they’ve always had. For the most part, I think I’ve done okay, holding on to the old-timers’ business. We lost a few during the transition, but I think they would have moved their business anyway. Most of the clients have been willing to give me a chance.”

  “That’s St. Dennis for you.” She smiled and gathered her things. “Is there anything else we need to do right now? I should get going if I’m going to make it to class on time.”