Deep (Pagano Family #4)(85)

His office. This was more impressive, large and decorated in a sleek style similar to his apartment. He sat her down on a smooth, black leather sofa and then sat next to her.

“Tell me.”

His typically terse way of starting a conversation like this made her smile. How many times had he said those two words to her in their months together? He always said them as if there was no question that he should know. Even when he’d been so careful with her, in this, in his certainty of his way, he’d been the same. That bit of normalcy cleared her head.

“I got a call from Chris’s lawyer this morning. He wanted to see me. We made an appointment for Friday afternoon, but then I remembered that Carmen’s rehearsal dinner is Friday, so I called him back. He said he’d squeeze me in at lunch today.”

She could tell by the twitch in his jaw that he didn’t want those details. But there wasn’t much to the story. Chris had been buried last week. Bev and Skylar had handled the arrangements, because Chris’s parents and older brother were all dead.

His friends had been his only family, and he and Bev hadn’t been speaking. He had died truly alone.

Today, his lawyer was executing his will. Just as when her father died, there was no big reading like in the movies. There was a phone call. And then there were papers to sign.

She hadn’t signed them.

“I don’t know what to do. He must have made that will before our fight. The way we left it, he couldn’t have wanted me to have everything.”

Nick pulled her sun pendant out from under her top and laid it over the fabric. “Are you sure? It’s been months since that fight. He had time to change it if he wanted to.”

“But why wouldn’t he?”

“He loved you, bella.”

She sighed, her chest aching. “And I let him die alone.”

He grabbed her chin, pinching it firmly between his thumb and the side of his forefinger. “No. He made his choices. How long were you friends?”

“Eleven years. More.”

“Were you a good friend? Were you loyal and…honest? Were you there for him?”

“Not the way he wanted.”

“Beverly, stop. You’re looking for a reason to blame yourself. I don’t give a shit whether you take what he left you or not. You don’t need it. But don’t make the choice because you think you don’t deserve it. You were a good friend. He let you think he was happy with that. You did nothing wrong.” He smiled. “Shake it off, sunshine. You’re past all that.”

She was. Somehow, Chris’s death had helped her. It was an awful way to think about it, but it was true. It had been the proverbial straw, but instead of breaking her back, it had broken the grip of dark fear that had kept her from feeling everything she needed to feel so that she could surmount her pain and get back to herself. All of herself.

Nick released her chin and pulled her under his arm, resting back on the sofa. “How much is it?”

“His life insurance is a hundred grand. I don’t know how much the other stuff is worth. The lawyer had a bunch of papers with valuation estimates and stuff, but I was too spun to think about it. I have them in the car. But it’s the store—there’s some kind of mortgage on it. The shop inventory and the van. And his house—that was his family vacation place, one of the little cottages in Quiet Summers Estates. It’s not much, but that was paid for when he inherited it.”

He nodded, and Bev could tell, looking up from his shoulder, that he was thinking. As he thought, his fingers traced the bare skin of her arm, making a slow, sensual circle. She sighed deeply, beginning to think of other things than what Chris had left her or why.

“Before you go, I’ll have Fred take a look at the valuations and any other papers the lawyer gave you. He’ll be able to tell you what’s yours, free and clear. And then you’ll decide what you want to do. It’s up to you, bella. Like I said, you don’t need any of it.”

“I’m still not working.” That was something she hadn’t yet been able to motivate herself to do. She knew for sure she never wanted to be a waitress again, and she hadn’t been able to figure out what else to do. She was making fifty bucks a week teaching her yoga class for the condo association. She owned the condo free and clear, but otherwise, she was living on Nick’s dime—which he loved, and with which she was becoming too comfortable.

As if to prove her point and to reiterate his, he said, “You don’t have to work. You know that.”

“I do need to work. I’m just having trouble getting ready. Maybe a job I wouldn’t have to interview for would be a good thing. Something I’m in charge of.”

“Wait—are you thinking about running the bookshop?”

Until he said it out loud, she hadn’t fully comprehended that yes, she was thinking exactly that. Now that she saw it, she liked it. It could be a way to remember Chris as she’d known him. The way their friendship had been through her eyes. She thought of the last day they’d really been close, sitting behind the sales desk, eating peach pie. That afternoon had ended badly for them, but they’d started it as friends.

“Would that be silly?”

“Have you ever managed a business?”

No, she had not. She’d been a waitress. A sales clerk. A receptionist. All of them, many times over. She’d never managed anything. “No.”