The Last Letter(76)

“Is that a threat?”

“Not in the least. Why would I do that when you’re going to sign that release, and your little secretary outside is going to notarize it all nice and pretty?” I leaned back in the chair.

“Fine. I’ll sign it.” He ripped a pen out of the cup in the center of the table and scrawled his name across the paper. I didn’t relax. Not yet.

“Have it notarized.”

He cursed under his breath but pushed back from the table and barked for his secretary from the doorway. A twentysomething woman in a tight pencil skirt hustled over, signing the bottom of the document and stamping it before running back to her desk.

Jeff shoved the folder at me, and I looked over the document, making sure it had been signed and notarized correctly. I wasn’t doing this a second time.

“Now if there’s anything else?”

I let my smile loose. “Yeah. Get your checkbook.”

“Excuse me?” His eyes popped wide in indignation.

“Get. Your. Checkbook. You’re going to write Ella a check for six years of back support on the kids. Now.”

“The hell I am. Besides, I just started working last month. What do you want? Thirty percent of nothing?”

“Yeah, but your million-dollar trust fund kicked in the minute you attended your first class freshman year of college. So you’re going to write a lovely, fat check to Ella.”

“How did you know that?”

“Not important. You’re going to write what you owe her, or I’m going to take this document to your fiancée’s dad. What is he? A senator? And then I’m going to leak it to the press that you not only abandoned those kids, but you left their mother destitute while she struggled to afford the cancer treatments Maisie needs. How do you think that’s going to play out in the press?”

“You’d ruin me.”

I took a deep, steadying breath. Even knowing that Maisie had cancer didn’t affect this selfish prick. “Yeah, that’s the idea.”

“Why? Because I ruined Ella? Like she had a future anyway.”

“You think you ruined Ella? There’s no man on the planet who could do that. Don’t flatter yourself. The only reason she’s not here is because you’re not worth her time. Now get your checkbook.”

He left the conference room, returning quickly with his pen poised over an open checkbook. “How much?”

“Whatever you think it’s worth to keep your future father-in-law happy and your father’s name on the wall.”

He scrawled his pen across the check and then flung the paper at me.

The check rustled to a gentle stop right in front of me, and I took it, folding it in half and slipping it into my breast pocket.

“You’re not even going to look at it?” he squawked.

“Nope. It’s either enough, or it’s not.” I stood, buttoning my suit coat, and headed for the door, file in hand.

“How did you know about the trust fund?” he asked again, still seated.

I paused, my hand on the door, debating.

What the hell. Why not?

“Oh, you know. Small-town people with small-town minds, they have big hearts and bigger mouths. And just for the record, the best thing you’ve ever done in your life is walk away from Ella. You never came back to mess with the kids. I’d keep to that tradition if I were you. I protect what’s mine.”

I walked away without a second thought, heading for a little army base just outside of Denver. There was another set of papers that needed signing today.

…

“Beckett!” Colt flew through the door and launched himself into my arms, like I’d been gone two weeks instead of two days.

“What’s up, little man?” I lifted him into the air, savoring the smell of cinnamon and sunshine as I shuffled the folder in my hands.

“We’re baking!”

I carried him into the house and was greeted by the same scent. “Apple pie?” I asked.

“How did you know?”

“Well, the only thing that smells that good while it’s baking is apple pie or Little Boy Pie and, since you’re still here, I went with the apples.”

Havoc swirled around my legs in greeting, and I set Colt down to give my girl a little behind-the-ear rub. “Good job,” I told her, knowing she’d stuck by Colt’s side.

“Beckett!” Maisie called out from the couch.

“How’s my best girl?” I asked, coming around to crouch next to where she lay. She was pale, her skin nearly translucent. “Feeling okay?”

She shook her head.

“If you could get her to drink something, I’d pretty much fork over my soul,” Ella said, coming from the kitchen, a smattering of flour on her forehead.

A pang of yearning blended with pure lust. I wanted this life and this woman. Wanted the freedom to steal her away from the kids for a second and get my hands on her. Kiss her. Touch her. Watch her eyes flutter shut in pleasure. Watch the worry lines fade from her brow.

“Apple pie, huh?”

“It’s her favorite, so I thought maybe…” She shrugged.

“What do I have to bribe you with to get a few capfuls of Gatorade down you?” I asked Maisie.

She looked up at me, those blue eyes turning deadly serious. “No more Moana. Get me Star Wars. It’s not scary.” She shot a little glare in Ella’s direction.