In life, things get thrown at you—crazy batshit things—and you just have to adapt. Either that or die. I choose the former.
Pushing back my shoulders, I muster the strength to face this head-on. It doesn’t take long before I reach the door Mr. Baker told my sister was his.
The cold metal knob bites my palm as I turn it. There’s no going back.
I swing open the door.
A squeak escapes my mouth.
In the far corner of the room is a desk, where a handsome man sits behind it.
Is this Mr. Baker?
It would make sense, seeing as he’s working behind the desk.
Did my sister know he’s gorgeous?
No, not gorgeous. That’s too simple a word for the man sitting there.
Then, as if it couldn’t get any worse, he lifts his head, and his gaze meets mine.
Jeez.
My stomach feels like a dozen butterflies have exploded inside me. Their wings flutter rapidly with excitement.
I have never seen eyes that blue.
Deep blue. Like the depths of the ocean. Bottomless. I shouldn’t be swooning at a time like this, but Lord.
I need to stop staring, but I can’t pull my gaze away.
“Hi,” I say nervously. “I’m here for the reading.”
He doesn’t answer me. Just continues to stare from where he’s perched.
“I’m here before my sister, I guess? I’m so nervous. I don’t know why I’m here. I—he never told me”—I shuffle my weight between my feet nervously—“about them. About . . . you?”
The air feels heavy with Mr. Baker’s silence. Uncomfortably, I look around the office and take a seat in a chair as far away from the desk as I can.
This lawyer is much more intimidating than I thought he would be.
“You’re not who I pictured,” I say before I can stop myself. I can feel my cheeks turning a shade of red I’m sure makes me match a tomato.
“And what did you picture?” When he finally speaks, I am not at all prepared for how gravelly his voice is.
Heat sweeps across the exposed skin by my collarbone, melting me into a puddle.
What is wrong with me?
Drooling over a man is not why I’m here.
“You’re younger than I thought—from your voice on the phone.” His lips tip up, and he smirks at me.
If I thought he was handsome before, he is downright deadly with that smirk.
Not why you’re here, Payton.
“Anything else?” he probes.
“Um . . .”
By now, I’m sure I could pass out. I want to fan myself. It’s like I have never met a man this handsome, which is ridiculous. But not really.
I’m used to college boys. He is definitely not that.
Nope.
He’s all man. An attorney. And apparently, Ronald’s attorney.
I shake my head to right myself.
“I can’t believe I’m here. I told my sister we shouldn’t come. That we should honor him privately, but she insisted. I can’t imagine his family will be happy to see us.” I bury my face in my hands at the thought of more private proximity to them. It was easier for some people to be civil in public. “Do you think they know about us? I don’t think I can face them. Imagine finding out your dad has another family.”
When Mr. Baker doesn’t respond, I move my palms away from my eyes and look at him.
The playful look is gone. In its place is a look I can only describe as pure hate.
A look I don’t understand at all.
A fine line appears between his brows, and his lips are no longer turned up. A scowl wears them down.
But that’s not what makes my back go ramrod straight.
What makes my body shiver are his fists, I can now see, balled by his sides with white knuckles showing.
I’m about to ask him what I said to upset him, but the door swings open, and in walks a man closer to Ronald’s age.
He strolls up to me and extends his hand.
“You must be Payton. I’m Larry Baker, Ronald’s attorney.”
I look from him to the man who I now realize is not him across the room. I shake Mr. Baker’s hand, but my eyes never leave the blue-eyed stranger who stalks over to us like an angry beast.
“Trent Aldridge. And who the fuck is this girl to my father?”
His father?
Shit.
3
Trent
* * *
I know. Dick move.
But I’m not one to stand on principles.
I guess when I got into business with the underworld, some of their scruples rubbed off on me.
Oh, who am I kidding? I’ve always been a dick.
Letting this girl think I was an attorney was low but worth it to watch her ogle me. Not that I need the ego boost. Mine is already large enough to fill a football stadium. Still, it was fun fucking with her, regardless.
The real question is, who is she? And why the hell is she at the reading of my father’s will?
“Hello, Trent.” Larry Baker wipes the sweat off his palms and reaches into his inner suit pocket, fishing for something. “I have a letter from your father that he wanted you to read.”