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Authors: Linda Hill

BOOK: Treasured Past
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She raised a brow, and I could almost read her thoughts. She was probably thinking that it must be nice to be the daughter of wealthy parents. I wanted to change my mind, but it was too late. I honestly didn’t like to flaunt money. But I couldn’t help thinking that it seemed every time I was around Annie I was spending ridiculous amounts of money. “Like I said,” I hastened to explain, “I’m really just beginning to decorate my home, and it’s actually kind of stark.” It was true. My walls were bare and my shelves empty.

She was smiling again. “Then you should come shopping more often!”

“Maybe I will,” I told her. “Now that I know what wonderful stuff you have here.”

The bell above the doorway tinkled again, and we both glanced up. A rather short, elderly woman entered the small store.

I glanced at my watch and cringed. I was going to be late for my first meeting with Donald Junior.

“Wow. I’m running late. Will you take a check?”

“Of course,” Annie told me.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my checkbook and pen, scribbling madly.

“So Friday at six?” she asked quietly.

Suddenly nervous again, I almost tore the check as I ripped it from its pad. “Friday at six,” I told her.

The woman who had just entered the store was clearing her throat.

“Let me wrap the phone up for you,” Annie suggested as she glanced at the woman and smiled.

“No, no,” I told her. “I need to run. Why don’t you just bring it with you on Friday?”

She shrugged. “You trust me with it for that long?”

“I guess I’ll have to.” I glanced at the woman who tapped her heel impatiently. “I’ll see you. Thanks for your help.”

“Thank you. Enjoy your day.”

I smiled a reply and waved as I walked back out into the sunlight.

CHAPTER FIVE

Donald Gold Junior was creepy. I couldn’t think of a better word to describe him. He was dressed perfectly in a three-piece suit, the cuffs of his white shirt starched just as stiff as his father’s. I suppose he was attractive enough, handsome in fact. Wavy dark hair and a chiseled jaw. Teeth perfectly white and even.

But he wouldn’t look at me. Except for the first moment when we shook hands, he wouldn’t let me see his eyes. They shifted nervously, just as his body seemed to bounce in his chair as I asked him questions.

“There’s no chance of reconciliation?”

“Hardly.” His voice was harsh.

“What assets do you own jointly?”

“The house.” He frowned. “I want the house,” he snapped. It was the third time he’d said those words. He began to fidget again as his impatience grew. “I thought my father already went over all of this with you.”

I tried to remain calm. “He did show me a short list of assets. Are you aware of what’s on the list?”

“Of course I am. I’m the one that wrote it.”

I nodded, biting my tongue.

“I want the house and all of the furnishings.”

I nodded again, trying to control the frown that pulled at my lips.

“I’m not sure whether or not your father explained to you that under Massachusetts law—”

“I don’t care about the law. I have ammunition. If she fights me on the house, I’ll ruin her. It’s that simple.”

My throat grew tight.

For the first time since the beginning of our meeting, he met my eyes. “Did my father tell you what she did?”

I chose my words carefully. “He mentioned that there was a woman involved.”

“Involved? How about bare-ass-naked-in-our-bed involved,” he spat.

I wanted to throttle him right there.

“I really don’t need you to go into the details right now, Mr. Gold.”

“I’ll spill everything if this divorce gets in front of a judge.” He placed both hands palm down on the table between us before lifting and pointing a finger at my face. “You make sure that her lawyer understands that, okay?”

I held my breath and swallowed the anger that was beginning to choke me. “I think I have enough information for now, Mr. Gold. If I have any other questions I’ll be sure to give you a call.”

He nodded, eyes shifting again. “I want this over with as soon as possible.”

“I’ll do my best, Mr. Gold.” I stood up, dismissing him. Decorum suggested that I hold out my hand, but I refused. The thought of touching him made my skin crawl. “You’ll hear from me soon.”

Eyes shifting, he nodded his head, apparently satisfied. I did something unprofessional and turned away, busying myself with a deposition and fingering through several files. I didn’t look up again until I knew he was gone. And when I did, I found myself nearly choking on my anger.

The situation was impossible.

CHAPTER SIX

I hadn’t been kidding when I’d told Annie that I didn’t cook very often. In fact, it had probably been an understatement. Maria had cooked nearly every meal I’d ever eaten until I was twenty-two years old. I had attended Wellesley College for my undergraduate degree, and living at home was just too convenient and easy for me to consider leaving. Not to mention the fact that between my parents and Maria, I had been spoiled rotten.

Maria was a wonderful cook, and I had spent many hours in my youth atop a kitchen stool pulled up close to the counter while I watched her prepare our meals. I spent hours watching as she chopped, grated, mixed, and poured as she created delightful delicacies of every kind. Italian was my mother’s favorite, and Maria was a master. I had studied the way she layered lasagna noodles over ricotta cheese and meat sauce, and then added another layer before draping on the mozzarella.

Now as I stood in my kitchen, I couldn’t quite remember the order that the different ingredients went into the dish. I was tempted to call Maria but decided that the order of the layers probably didn’t matter. The sauce tasted near perfect, and that was what really mattered. I tasted the sauce one last time before grinning and sliding the dish into the oven.

Annie arrived right on time. She carried a bottle of Merlot in one hand and my candlestick phone in the other. Her smile was genuine as we greeted each other and awkwardly shuffled the wine and phone from her hands to mine.

“I’m so excited about my new phone. You’ll have to help me decide where to put it,” I chatted nervously as I led her from the front hallway and into the living room. I placed the phone down on the coffee table and excused myself while I deposited the bottle of wine in the kitchen.

When I returned, she was standing near the middle of the room, hands clasped behind her back as she tilted her head toward the ceiling. I followed the direction of her gaze and watched as her eyes trailed over the carvings of the molding that edged the ceiling.

“Very nice design. Is it all original work?”

I really had no idea what she was talking about. “I guess so. It was all there when I bought the place, so I can’t be certain.” The house was an old Victorian, with vaulted ceilings and intricate molding. It had been part of what had attracted me originally.

“It’s exquisite.”

I don’t think I’d actually ever heard anyone say the word
exquisite
before, and I smiled at the word, thinking it perfect from her lips.

“Exquisite?”

Her eyes met mine. “Yes. Incredible detail. Are you mocking me, or do you really not know what you have here?”

I wasn’t quite sure how to interpret the question.

“No,” I stammered. “I mean, it’s lovely to me, which is why I bought the place. But beyond that, no, I don’t know what you mean.”

She glanced around the room once more, eyes narrowing before she brought them back to me. “If it’s all original, then you have a small fortune here. It’s remarkable work, really. You don’t see it very often anymore. Many people gutted their Victorians back in the fifties and sixties. Stripped everything down and modernized the rooms.” She stepped toward the glass pocket doors that separated the living room from what had probably once been a parlor or great room.

Placing her hands on each door, she slowly pushed them apart and watched them glide smoothly open before disappearing into the walls. She stood back and shook her head. “This is wonderful.”

“Thank you,” I told her, slightly embarrassed. I looked past her and the open doorway and into the great empty room before her. It was probably larger than many apartments, with oak flooring and tall, white walls. But it was completely empty of furnishings. I rarely went in that room. The truth was that I rarely went into any of the rooms besides the study and the bedroom.

I had purchased my home many years before, just out of college. At the time I had imagined filling the rooms with many grand things. But somehow my work had gotten in the way until my home was just a place to fall asleep at night.

Now Annie was glancing back over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised and a smile on her lips. “You weren’t kidding when you said the place was empty, were you?”

I laughed, a bit embarrassed. “You didn’t believe me? I told you, I’m just now getting around to decorating.” I took a few steps to stand beside her and we stared into the empty room together. “Unfortunately, decorating is not one of my talents. I may have to hire someone.”

“That would be a shame!”

I wrinkled my brow in reply.

“Decorating should be fun. Something passionate that you can get excited about. Envisioning what you want the room to look like and then creating it and watching it come to life.” Her voice was full of enthusiasm.

I frowned. “I hate to dampen your spirits, but there’s just one small problem.”

“Don’t say you don’t have time.”

I laughed. “No, it’s not that.”

“Or money.” There was definitely sarcasm in her voice.

“Talent.” I shrugged. “I have none. I have no concept of what looks good together. This place would be a complete disaster if I let myself decorate.”

Annie threw me a look that said she didn’t believe a word of what I was saying. She turned back to the living room and glanced about. I followed her gaze and took in the coffee table on the simple throw rug in the center of the room. An overstuffed sofa lined one wall. A mission rocker stood beneath a tall lamp. A variety of potted plants stood against the window that faced the front of the house.

Her eyes rested on mine, and I could tell that she was
struggling with what to say. Then a broad smile broke onto her lips.

“You have a gorgeous home, Kate. But you’re right. You’re either a horrible decorator or you just moved in last week.” If anyone else had said those words to me, I probably would have been angry. But hearing the teasing tone in Annie’s voice made me laugh.

“See? I told you and you didn’t believe me, did you?”

“No,” she laughed again. “I thought you were pulling my leg. I thought for sure that you must have this gorgeous home that would be decorated right out of a magazine.”

“Like my parents’ house?” I raised a brow.

Her smile faltered a bit, and I could almost read her mind. It was something that I’d seen on her face before, and I thought it had something to do with my parents’ wealth.

“Daddy’s spoiled little girl?” The words came out before I could stop them.

She dropped her eyes for a brief moment, and I knew I was right. Her smile was contrite.

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