Leo smiles tightly. “Yes, she was.” He sets the box on the coffee table and slides it toward me. “Mom wanted you to have this.”
“She did?” I eye the box, hesitant to open it. That will mean she’s really gone.
But Leo is waiting. My fingers tremble as I lift the lid. Inside is a vintage men’s Rolex wristwatch with a cream face and gold casing. The black leather band is worn thin on the sides from years of use, and I know it belonged to Maddy’s husband, Leo’s father. With a heavy breath, I set the box back down. “Thank you, but I can’t take this. It’s too … It belongs in your family.”
Leo shakes his head, suddenly adamant. “If Mom wanted you to have this, then it belongs with you.” His expression turns fond. “You knew my mother. What she wanted, she got.”
I laugh, but it’s weak and pained. “She terrified me half the time.”
All that determined vitality is gone. Just like that.
“That was Mom for you.” He straightens. “Please take it with my blessing.”
“How do you know she wanted me to have this?” My hands fist on my thighs. “Did she speak of me before …?” Shit, I’m going to lose it. Maddy was a friend. More importantly, she was there for me in a way few were. I felt safe confiding in her because she was apart from all other aspects of my life. And now she’s gone.
“No,” Leo says. “She left a note—”
“A note,” I cut in sharply, something horrible and cold slashing through me. “Did she … Tell me she didn’t …” Jesus, no. She can’t … I stand abruptly, moving away from the table.
Leo’s confused expression suddenly clears. “No, no. It was a heart attack. She went in her sleep while at our vacation house in Boca.”
I stop short, relief flooding over me like cool water. “You said a note …”
“I’m sorry, I’m not explaining well,” he says with a sad smile in Stella’s direction, probably because I look like a madman right now. He straightens in his seat. “Mom was all about lists. She has—had—books filled with them, from house accounts to future plans. Last year, she had a minor heart attack. After that, she started lists, cataloguing what she wanted to leave to whom and why.”
He digs in his suit pocket and pulls out a folded paper. “I copied this down.” He adjusts his glasses and reads, “Jax gets the ’69 Rolex. He’ll like that number, and he needs to know that the one thing we can’t hold back is time.”
I flush hard, then a laugh breaks free, bittersweet and aching in my chest. “Oh, hell, I’m going to miss her.”
“I am too.” Leo’s eyes gloss over before he blinks rapidly and stands. “I have to get going.”
A weird sense of panic skitters over my skin and creeps into my insides. I want him gone. I want to be alone in the quiet of my bed. The level of pain I feel for the loss of a friend I barely saw staggers me. What if this had been Scottie coming to tell me Killian was gone? Or Stella?
Undiluted terror sucks at my soul so hard, my head reels. Unless I go first, that day will eventually come. I’ll lose them all. Maddy was right about time—eventually everyone’s time is up. Sweat trickles down my back as my throat closes. I frown, trying to focus. Leo is talking to me, his voice muffled through the buzzing in my ears.
“If I could trouble you for one more thing—do you know of a Stella who lives in the building? Mom didn’t have a last name or apartment number.”
Stella jumps in her seat as if pinched. “I’m Stella.”
“Oh!” He actually blushes, which doesn’t fit his buttoned-up look at all. But how can he not fall under Stella’s spell? She’s a glowing light in the darkest of nights. He reaches out to shake her hand. “How do you do? Mom left something for you as well.”
“What?” Shock has her clutching my arm, her eyes round. “But we only had lunch together once.”
“Well,” Leo says with a wry note, “you must have made a big impression. I actually have it in the hall.” He gets up, and we follow him to the door. Leo returns with a big red handbag that makes Stella gasp. “I thought it might be odd for me to ring the bell while wearing a purse, so …”
He shrugs with a small laugh and hands the bag to Stella. She takes it with reverence, her hand smoothing over the nubby leather surface.
“Oh, wow. The Birkin.” Stella licks her lips, her eyes tearing up. “Just wow.”
“Mom’s notation for this one said every woman should have a fabulous handbag, and that this would clash wonderfully with your hair.” Leo eyes Stella bright curls with something close to confusion. “I’m not sure what she meant by that.”