Take the Fall (Take the Fall, #1)(12)

Then I hit the road.

Shaw’s offices are located in downtown Forrestville, and it doesn’t take long to get there. Parking’s a bitch, though, especially with a truck the size of mine. I circle the block a couple of times before finding a space.

As I walk inside, a receptionist greets me.

“Hi, I’m Seth O’Connor and I have—”

“Go right in. First office on the right.”

The door to his office bursts open and Rowan walks out, a strange look on her face.

“Good morning,” I say.

She glances up at me, her strange look giving way to a glare. “I bet it is.”

“You can’t even try to be nice to me?”

“Why bother? You’re leaving. Again.”

You’re leaving. Again. The words echo in my mind. If Rowan didn’t care or had really forgiven me like she claimed, then she wouldn’t have said that. She would have left it with a simple Why bother?

“If I stay, will you be nice to me?” I ask.

“Totally,” she snaps. “In fact, I’ll be Little Miss Sunshine if you stay.”

She shoves past me, and I turn slightly to stare after her retreating form, grinning. She’s wearing faded jeans that showcase her ass, and a purple sweater that conforms to her body. I glance at her feet and grin. She still wears silver Converse sneakers. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say those were the same pair I’d bought for her.

“Mr. O’Connor?”

Dragging my attention from Rowan to Shaw, I nod at the man. “Ready when you are.”

“Come inside.”

We shake hands, and he indicates I should sit. I take out the envelope he gave me and open it. “I wanted to wait until I met with you before I read through this.”

“That’s fine. It’s a copy of Mrs. Gardner’s will.”

Unfolding the packet of papers, I scan the first page and my jaw drops.

“She left me everything,” I say, incredulous at her generosity. What the hell will I do with all this money? I already have everything I need with the Corps Savings in the bank from my tours in Afghanistan; my truck’s paid for, and my off-base apartment is a straight-up bachelor’s pad, complete with the requisite leather couch, Xbox, and a flat-screen that takes up an entire wall.

Shaw nods. “Everything and then some. Of course, a portion of the life insurance policy is going to one Rowan Patricia Simmons.”

My gaze jerks from the packet of papers to his face. “My grandmother left Rowan money?” Is that why she looked so pissed? I’d gotten money she thought she deserved? It’s an honest question, and while I don’t naturally assign the title of gold digger to a woman, I don’t know Rowan like I used to.

“Yes.”

“How much?” I’m not asking because I want the money. Honestly, I’m more curious than anything.

Shaw names the amount, and I blink. “She’ll never have to work again,” I mutter to myself.

“Ms. Simmons donated half of it to Jailbirds to Jobs.”

Jailbirds to Jobs? “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a charity Ms. Simmons started a few years ago that puts convicts to work at your grandmother’s auto shop once they’ve been released. She personally works with their parole officers. Her organization has helped hundreds of people and has lowered the recidivism rate by 10 percent in this area. I know that might not sound like a lot, but considering the rate is normally close to 90 percent, it’s a wonderful reduction.”

Wow. I always knew Rowan was smart as hell and had a soft heart, but this…a charity like this is beyond the soft-heart thing. Lots of people have intelligence and soft hearts yet do nothing to help others on such a large scale.

“You seem to know a lot about it.”

“I’m one of the sponsors of the charity, and I’m on the advisory board.”

“What are my options?”

Shaw’s face grows concerned. “Concerning Ms. Simmons’s inheritance?”

“No. I could give two shits about her inheritance. I want to know what I’m supposed to do with all this paperwork.”

Shaw’s face brightens. “Ah. That I can help you with.”

We spend the next hour going over the details, and what the law requires me to do as the executor of my grandmother’s estate. Apparently, it’s a hell of a lot.

“Can’t we get someone else?” I ask. “This might be more than I can do, given my occupation.”

Shaw takes a sip of coffee. “I’m afraid not.”

Mentally, I consider my alternatives and decide against any course of action that would label me a lawbreaker. I have a real aversion to breaking the law. Actually, I have a real aversion to prison. “Fine. I can get about two weeks off right now, but once that’s gone, I’ll have to come up on weekends.”

“Mrs. Gardner informed me that you’re a helicopter crew chief in the Marines. Will we have to work around a deployment schedule?” Shaw asks.

I shake my head. “No, my contract is up in eight weeks and then I’m out. For good.” Freedom. I can hardly wait. “But everything else, like paying off outstanding debts, can be handled electronically in the meantime, right?”

“Right, of course.” Shaw sits in his chair. “We’ll take care of most of it, and if you like, give you a list of reputable agents in the area who can help you sell the residence and business for a fair market value.”