The Hardest Fight

The Hardest Fight
Amy Vastine


There's no backing down this time Lucy Everhart expected her opposing counsel to be a slick, soulless corporate lawyer. Who else would represent developers intent on turning Chicago's Safe Haven women's shelter into condos? But she never imagined it would be Dylan Hunt. Clearly, he's no longer the idealistic young man she fell for in law school. This is Dylan 2.0. The man who let her go without a fight five years ago–along with his passion for social justice, apparently. He may have compromised what he believed in, but Lucy hasn't. Dylan has no idea what kind of fight he's in for. But then again, neither does she.







There’s no backing down this time

Lucy Everhart expected her opposing counsel to be a slick, soulless corporate lawyer. Who else would represent developers intent on turning Chicago’s Safe Haven women’s shelter into condos? But she never imagined it would be Dylan Hunt. Clearly, he’s no longer the idealistic young man she fell for in law school. This is Dylan 2.0. The man who let her go without a fight five years ago—along with his passion for social justice, apparently. He may have compromised what he believed in, but Lucy hasn’t. Dylan has no idea what kind of fight he’s in for. But then again, neither does she.


Lucy was halfway out the door when someone gripped her by the arm.

“Hang on a second,” Dylan said, letting her go the moment she stopped moving. “I just want to be clear about something.” His jaw was tense but his eyes were soft. “I don’t know why you dislike me so much, but this isn’t about us.”

The way he said us made Lucy’s stomach flip. There hadn’t been an “us” in a very long time. There would never be an “us” again.

“I know. It’s about Open Arms and Safe Haven. Two things I care about. Two things that I won’t give up.”

He leaned in close and seemed to be trying hard to keep his voice calm as he said, “Well, I want you to know that I’m not giving up, either. Maybe it’s your turn to find out what it’s like to lose something you care about.”


Dear Reader (#ulink_4f0dc624-d5af-56ca-b1a9-fa7e3b314888),

It was bittersweet to write the final book in the Chicago Sisters series. When you write characters for three books, you become more attached than I thought possible. At the same time, it seemed perfect to go out with Lucy’s story in The Hardest Fight.

Lucy is the oldest sister in the Everhart clan. She feels responsible for changing the world for the better. She also feels as if she has to do it quickly because her time on this earth is limited, more limited than most. Lucy has battled breast cancer once but can’t stop thinking about the very real possibility she could get it again. That’s why she shut the door on Dylan Hunt five years ago. He was the only man she ever loved, and Lucy was sure it was best for both of them to let him go without telling him she was sick.

Lucy reminds us that even the bravest people are still afraid. For Lucy, it’s the fear that helps her keep fighting. But she needs to learn that there’s no weakness in asking for help or letting others be there to support her. Lucy is excellent at being there for everyone else but not so good at letting people take care of her.

I love a happy ending, and as the Chicago Sisters series comes to an end, I hope you are glad you came along for the ride! Feel free to visit me on Facebook (AmyVastineAuthor (https://www.facebook.com/AmyVastineAuthor)), on Twitter (@vastine7 (https://twitter.com/vastine7)), or on my website, amyvastine.com (http://www.amyvastine.com). I love hearing from you.

xoxo,

Amy Vastine


The Hardest Fight

Amy Vastine






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


AMY VASTINE has been plotting stories in her head for as long as she can remember. An eternal optimist, she studied social work, hoping to teach others how to find their silver lining. Now she enjoys creating happily-ever-afters for all to read. Amy lives outside Chicago with her high-school sweetheart turned husband, three fun-loving children and their sweet but mischievous puppy. Visit her at amyvastine.com (http://www.amyvastine.com).


To my uncle, Tom Kuhn.

Sometimes we don’t know how strong we are

until we have no choice but to be strong.

Be strong and know we are here beside you.


Contents

Cover (#uaf212bd5-1202-5d47-83af-3e14faba780e)

Back Cover Text (#u9b39b504-337f-5de5-ab4a-3f5fe314f02f)

Introduction (#u11e28963-9fe7-5094-be56-8695fcce271d)

Dear Reader (#u80ebf545-d541-5559-a909-70dc496799b6)

Title Page (#u3a9fd57e-8410-5851-be4f-28faba1d44dc)

About the Author (#uf66cd080-543b-59e0-9359-00628d6c4e85)

Dedication (#ua1fcdbbc-8754-5e91-b3e9-e37c2952a812)

CHAPTER ONE (#u8a9a9713-b99a-5eaa-a4ec-1ffe11d45581)

CHAPTER TWO (#u40766c08-cdf4-5ba7-840b-4f2724108e1c)

CHAPTER THREE (#u040c03cf-7f91-53a4-811a-78a4c6d57a32)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u3ef3c1f1-62f0-548c-a835-0f2fd42f5249)

CHAPTER FIVE (#u309189d6-245b-5767-82c3-63c13d6055e9)

CHAPTER SIX (#u35d72643-d91f-5c0c-a28f-947ca72d3000)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_2e3f5d3d-4493-52d2-a25a-9d45d01e81a8)

“YOU’RE NOT GOING to believe this.” Paige Clayton tossed an innocuous-looking envelope on top of the piles of paper on her cluttered desk. As the executive director of Open Arms Women’s Advocacy Center, she had more on her plate than all the overpaid CEOs in the Windy City.

An unwelcomed feeling of dread hit Lucy Everhart as she reached for the letter.

“We’ve had an anonymous donor offer to pay all our bills and pledge an extra million dollars to our cause?” She knew better, but a girl could dream. As Paige’s second in command, Lucy wore many hats. Her official title was Director of Legal Affairs, but Lucy also worked as one of the counselors at Safe Haven, Open Arms’s temporary shelter for women and their children. She gave much of her time to outreach and fund-raising as well, which was most likely why Paige had called her in today.

Paige let out a heavy sigh. “I wish.”

Times were tough, and Open Arms was suffering the consequences of the country’s economic downturn. Government funding had been cut drastically over the past couple of years, and private donations were at their lowest in the center’s history. Less money came in while more women knocked down the door. It wasn’t surprising that abuse increased as a result of rising unemployment rates. Money troubles triggered tempers like nothing else.

Lucy slid the letter out of the envelope. It didn’t take long for her face to flush red with anger. “Are they serious?”

“These people want to meet to discuss our ‘bottom line.’”

This was all part of a conspiracy to run Open Arms out of the up-and-coming Logan Square neighborhood, where Safe Haven was located. The gentrification of that area had pushed out many who had lived there. Older places were being torn down in favor of fancy new condominiums and expensive single family homes. The new neighbors weren’t happy about having a women’s shelter on their block. Someone had bent the ear of a certain alderman; Lucy was sure of it.

Two months ago, the City of Chicago cut its funding to Open Arms. That money had been going to pay the mortgage on the seven-bedroom house they had acquired before the neighborhood had become such a hot spot. Lucy had projected that they’d have to give up the house or make some drastic cuts elsewhere if they didn’t get more money soon.

“We can convince the board that we’ll be able to cover the mortgage through the winter for sure. We’ll need to get creative around March.” Lucy began to pace. She thought better—clearer—when she was on the move. “We’ll promote the heck out of this year’s Hope and Healing fund-raiser.”

“We know what to expect from the Hope and Healing fund-raiser. It won’t be enough,” Paige lamented.

“We’ll come up with ways to make it bigger and better. Plus, the holidays always bring in lots of donations. People feel the most charitable between Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

“Most of those donations aren’t monetary. We get blankets and shampoo. People clean out their closets and give us their clothes and toys.”

“We won’t let anyone take what’s ours.” Lucy threw the letter back on Paige’s desk.

“They don’t want to take it. They want to buy it.” Paige held her head in her hands. “Maybe we call an appraiser and see what the house is worth.”

“Don’t even go there,” Lucy warned. “We are not going to think the worst before we even attempt to fight. Let’s meet with the board, light a fire under them to appeal to their connections and find donations. I’m not giving up. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s fight to win.”

When Lucy took up a cause, she did so with the intention of seeing it through. She had shut down puppy mills and rallied to give workers their fair pay. She’d helped clean up neighborhoods and build playgrounds.

Life was short. People had a limited amount of time on the planet. Their objective should be to leave the world a better place than they found it. Lucy worried she had less time than most, so she dedicated her time and energy to any cause she found worthwhile. Open Arms was her favorite. She wasn’t going to let it fail.

“You’re right,” Paige said, sitting up and squaring her shoulders. She tucked her black, pin-straight hair behind her ears. In her midfifties, Paige resembled Isabella Rossellini with her dark hair and hazel eyes. She was dedicated to Open Arms, forgoing any kind of personal life. Lucy knew she wouldn’t go down without a fight. “That’s why I called you. You’re my rock.”

Lucy smiled. Her sisters, Kendall and Emma, referred to her as that, as well. Whenever they were on the verge of some sort of emotional breakdown, it was Lucy’s clear head they sought out.

A knock on the door interrupted them. Hannah, Paige’s assistant, poked her head in. “I’ve got a woman here who needs to speak to someone in our legal department.”

It really wasn’t much of a department. Lucy was the only staff member with a law degree. She was the one who would help women obtain orders of protection or act as a legal advocate when needed.

“We’re going to figure this out,” she said to Paige before following Hannah out. “I promise.”

“I know better than to argue with you. You always win.”

Lucy winked. “Exactly.”

A woman fidgeted in the chair outside Paige’s office. Her designer clothes weren’t part of the usual wardrobe of an Open Arms’s client. Wealth didn’t make anyone immune from abuse, but it could keep some women from accepting aid. The woman sported rings on several fingers, except the ring finger on her left hand. That one was empty, and the woman kept staring at it as if something was missing. Her face lifted at the sound of Paige’s opening door.

Lucy recognized her as soon as their eyes met. Nora had been here a few months back, spent no more than a week at Safe Haven before disappearing. The angry red mark on her cheek spoke volumes about where she’d been since she left.

“Nora, right?”

Nora’s gaze fell to her feet, as if she was ashamed of being recognized. “I’m really sorry to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me. Come on, let’s go talk in my office.” Lucy often amazed herself with how calm she could sound at moments like this, even though all she wanted to do was find the man who had put his hands on this woman and give him a taste of his own medicine.

Lucy’s office was really more like a glorified closet with one small window that provided an excellent view of a parking lot. The cramped space left little room for more than a desk and two chairs, but it had a door and provided them with some needed privacy. She invited Nora to sit and took her own seat behind the desk. Unlike Paige, Lucy had an almost obsessive need to keep her things orderly.

“As sorry as I am that you’ve found yourself in need of our assistance, I’m happy you’re allowing us to be here for you. How can I help?”

Nora bit her bottom lip and lifted her purse into her lap. “I’m not sure anyone can help me.” She began to dig through the seemingly bottomless bag. “I wasn’t going to come, but there was nowhere else to go.”

“I hear that a lot, actually.” Most of the women who came to Open Arms had a million reasons why they shouldn’t be there. They had lived with the shame and the fear so long, it prevented them from believing they could escape. “I’m more helpful than people think.”

The woman set a manila folder on Lucy’s desk. “I’m pretty sure my husband has something in these files that can get me in trouble, but I don’t know what it is.”

Lucy often helped women obtain an order of protection or explained the confusing language lawyers and courts loved to throw at the layman. This was the first time someone had come to her about something a bit more complicated.

The folder was filled with bank statements, spreadsheets, invoices and other financial documents. As Lucy perused the paperwork, Nora told her story. She and her husband had met at work when she was hired as his personal assistant seven years ago. He had climbed the corporate ladder quickly. The more money he made, the bigger his ego—and temper—grew. They had still just been dating the first time he hit her, but she’d believed him when he remorsefully pleaded for her forgiveness and promised it would never happen again.

He had lied.

Instead of breaking things off, Nora had believed she could change Wade by proving her love and married him six months into their relationship. The only one who changed, however, was Nora. Wade quickly had her cut ties with everyone in her life. She’d been “encouraged” to stop talking to her parents, her brother and her friends. Wade had told her they didn’t care about her the way he did, weren’t responsible for her the way he was.

As she became more isolated, he became more controlling. He picked out all her clothes, told her when to get her hair cut, had rules about how she should clean the house. When she didn’t comply, she was punished. If he left marks, he made her stay home, and since he was her boss, no one questioned it.

Wade soon left his job to start his own wealth management corporation with a couple of other guys, taking Nora with him. It had been his way of removing all her social connections outside of him.

Alone and unable to meet her husband’s unreasonable standards, Nora had considered several means of escape. Some were more desperate than others. There was no telling what she would have done if she hadn’t seen a flyer for Open Arms tacked on a bulletin board at the coffee shop where she bought Wade’s morning latte.

“I’m grateful for everything Open Arms did for me, but when I left him the first time, he sent me a warning via my mother. He said if I didn’t come home, he would have no choice but to tell the world about what I had done. I hadn’t done anything, but that didn’t mean he had nothing to tell. Wade doesn’t make idle threats.”

“I see you have several accounts in your name—that was smart,” Lucy said, paging through the other files. It would take time to make sense of all this.

“I thought about opening up an account a couple of years ago. I figured if I ever wanted to leave, I was going to need some cash. The only problem was Wade watched every penny and nickel I spent—my checks from work were deposited directly into our joint account. There was no way for me to funnel money into anything.”

Lucy was confused. The statements in the folder were for three separate bank accounts, all in Nora’s name. “You didn’t open these?”

Nora shook her head. “I came across all that by accident. He was hiding it in a drawer in his office at home.” She pulled out a flash drive. “This, too. I don’t know what’s on it, but I have a feeling it’s all connected.”

“You need a lawyer.” Lucy had heard some crazy things working here, but this was the wildest of them all.

“That’s why I’m here. You’re a lawyer, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“I have no credit cards, no access to the money in our joint account, nothing. All I have is this.” She pulled out an envelope with several hundred-dollar bills in it. “I pawned my wedding ring this morning. You can have it all if you’ll help me.”

Lucy knew better than to take this case. It had trouble written all over it. Yet, if there was one thing Lucy couldn’t resist, it was putting someone in their place.

“That’s your money. My services are free.”

Nora sighed with relief. “Thank you.” Her teeth dug into her bottom lip again. “One more thing—he’s going to kill me when he finds out I took all of these files.”

“Not if I can help it,” Lucy said with a sure smile. She wasn’t afraid of anyone.

* * *

PAIGE HAD SET UP a meeting with the board a few days later, and with Lucy’s help she’d convinced them to hold off on accepting any offers before they put forth their best efforts to save Safe Haven. However, the board also thought it was important to meet with the prospective buyers to hear them out, at least.

Lucy had appealed to her two allies on the board. They seemed to be in agreement with her about the necessity of keeping possession of both the shelter house in Logan Square and the office space in Lincoln Park. They promised to make some calls and find some money. There were two other board members who were less opposed to selling the house. Their contacts were tapped out. The fifth and deciding member always voted however Paige wanted her to vote. She trusted Paige’s judgment unequivocally.

In order to prove to Paige that Safe Haven could be saved, Lucy had spent countless hours during the week brainstorming ways to raise the money to keep up with the payments. She had even enlisted the help of her sisters. Emma came up with the idea of having a live auction at the fund-raiser this year in addition to the small silent one they usually did. Kendall agreed to donate her time and talents to the cause.

Lucy was confident they could find a way to keep things going through the new year. That was why she wore an easy smile the morning of the meeting with the developers. They were going to show these people that the women who spent time in Safe Haven had been pushed around enough; they certainly weren’t going to be pushed out of a neighborhood that provided them with much-needed security.

“You look like you don’t have a care in the world. How do you do that?” Paige asked, appearing quite the opposite. Her hair was slipping out of its barrette and the worry lines on her forehead seemed almost permanent.

“They can offer us any amount they want. The board will side with us.”

“What if it’s a lot of money?” Paige wrung her hands as she paced around the reception area of Open Arms.

“We don’t need their money.”

Paige nodded and repeated Lucy’s words a bit less confidently. “We don’t need their money.”

The front door to the office opened and a parade of people waltzed in. Lucy hadn’t expected the buyer to bring an army. Perhaps they really were at war. She put on her game face until the last man stepped over the threshold. Her breath caught and her face fell. She hadn’t seen him since she’d told him to stay away from her almost five years ago.

Dylan Hunt had always been a golden boy. Blond hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders and a brilliant mind. He had also broken Lucy’s heart. It didn’t matter that she was the one who’d ended the relationship. He hadn’t fought for her, hadn’t cared enough to ask why. She’d been so easy to let go of, he had done it without a second thought.

“Ms. Clayton?” The only woman in the developer’s group approached Paige first. She was all glamour and gold. She wore her wealth like a shield, clearly separating herself from the underclass.

Paige ushered them into the conference room, where the board members were already waiting. At the same time, Lucy wrestled with the emotions threatening to destroy her nerves of steel. Her skin prickled with each step Dylan took in her direction. All the memories came rushing back. The warmth of his hand against her cheek, the smell of his skin after a shower, the sound of his heart when she rested her head against his chest.

His gaze was fixed on her, locking her in place. Dylan was ice-cold. He had that fake smile plastered on his face, the one that even he used to hate. He stopped in front of her and sank his hands into his pockets.

“Lucy Everhart, what a surprise to see you here.” There was no way he was as surprised to see her as she was him. If he was working for this buyer, he had done his homework on Open Arms and would have known the part she played.

Her heart pounded so hard the sound of it seemed to echo off the walls. If Lucy believed in things like fate and karma, she might have wondered what she had done to deserve this kind of punishment, but she was too rational for that. Bad things happened all the time; it was just the way the world worked. Except when bad things happened to Lucy, they often bordered on life-threatening.

“You’re as beautiful as ever,” he said. He flashed her another one of his award-winning smiles, complete with the dimple on his right cheek. Her looks had been what drew him to her the first time they’d met, and they were probably why he’d stayed with her for so long. That was the only reason Lucy could come up with for why he had walked away so easily. He had only cared about the wrapping, not the gift she had inside.

If he only knew how flawed she really was, he wouldn’t be so generous with his compliments today. Lucy was damaged goods, someone who wasn’t perfect enough to be Dylan Hunt’s significant other.

“You see the beauty, but you forget about the beast,” Lucy said, finally finding her voice. “Welcome to my jungle.” She gestured for him to lead the way into the conference room.

Dylan leaned forward, his lips so close she almost put her fingers on them so her own mouth wouldn’t be tempted. “You’re wrong, Lulu. That’s the part of you I’ll never forget.”


CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_5669fc2f-8003-5c3d-903e-7b6e62206c9e)

DYLAN HAD PRACTICED what he was going to say when he laid eyes on Lucy Everhart for the first time in almost five years, but nothing came out the way he had planned. As much as he wanted to play it cool and not give away the scar he still had on his heart, she provoked the truth right out of him. He’d always loved her tenacity, but today he could have done without it.

“I appreciate you agreeing to meet with us.” Elizabeth Kerrington was the epitome of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. She dialed up her perfect manners and lovely pleasantries right before she went in for the kill. Today’s hunt was for the piece of prime real estate that Open Arms owned in Logan Square. Elizabeth’s company had already purchased the two properties on either side of it and all she needed to begin building her luxury condominiums was Safe Haven.

“I didn’t realize you would be bringing so many people with you.” The executive director of Open Arms was more than rattled. She called out to her assistant to bring some extra chairs before turning and accidentally knocking a stack of papers off the table. Dylan was concerned she might have a nervous breakdown at any moment.

Elizabeth had already taken a seat. “No worries, Ms. Clayton. My associates can stand if need be. I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I’m sure there’s plenty of do-gooding for you to get back to.”

Lucy arched a brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Us do-gooders are part of an impressive network. We called up all the local superheroes and asked them to watch the streets for us while we conducted our business with you, Mrs. Kerrington.”

Elizabeth scowled while Dylan restrained himself from chuckling. Lucy was sassy as ever. The assistant dragged in a couple of chairs and apologized as she shoved them into the already cramped space.

“Let’s just get right to it, shall we?” Elizabeth asked.

“Let’s,” Lucy answered, taking a seat on Ms. Clayton’s side of the table.

“Obviously, we’re interested in purchasing the property you own on Western,” Elizabeth said with a wave of her hand.

Lucy’s expression gave nothing away, but her counterpart swallowed hard and began to fidget. Ms. Clayton was the key to the success of this deal. Dylan had done his research. The board was split. There was one vote to win over and that member would be swayed only by the executive director.

She was nervous, possibly anxious to get to the bottom line. How much was Prime Developments willing to pay? Open Arms couldn’t deny they needed the money. There were signs of financial trouble everywhere Dylan looked. From the broken door when they walked in, to the duct tape holding one of the chairs together, it was clear there weren’t extra funds for the little things.

“Are you making an offer?” Lucy asked.

As Prime’s legal counsel, Dylan had been invited to this meeting to help with negotiations. He saw it as a chance to show off his ability to read people. It was a talent, really. A skill that came in very handy when interviewing witnesses or figuring out how hard to push someone with relevant information. Not only could Dylan tell when someone was lying, his powers of observation allowed him to appear as if he was able to read their minds. It was the same tactic that so-called psychics used to convince people they were talking to their dead relatives. These tricks had served him well in his career and helped him dodge a few bullets in his personal life. That girlfriend in college who was cheating on him only got to cheat once before she wasn’t his girlfriend anymore.

Dylan could read everyone. Everyone except for Lucy. The woman was a complete mystery. He never knew what was going on in that pretty head of hers, which was what had drawn him to her in the first place. Her mind was a fascinating place when she let him in. Lucy was smarter than most people assumed.

Lucy wasn’t going to stop him from making a good impression. If Dylan could help Prime get this property, he would prove himself to everyone at his firm, especially his boss, who just happened to be his mother. Their familial relation didn’t give him any advantage in pleasing her. Results were all that mattered to Clarissa Stevens-Hunt. So, whatever it was that Lucy thought, it wouldn’t keep the board from taking Prime’s offer if Dylan had anything to say about it.

Elizabeth held out her manicured hand, waiting for Dylan to place the offer he had drafted in it. “I think you will find our offer more than generous.”

Dylan wouldn’t call it generous. It wasn’t nearly what the property was worth, but it was surely enough to entice a needy organization such as this one. He watched as Elizabeth’s assistant slid copies of the offer across the table. Ms. Clayton passed hers off to Lucy without even looking at it. Obviously, it was too tempting. Lucy was the one who would do the negotiating, of course, because she was the tough one.

She had been Dylan’s biggest competition in law school. He had thought she hated him when they met. Turned out she had been more interested than she’d let on. They had dated the last year of law school and for two years after that. Dylan had believed she was the One, and everything she had said and done told him she felt the same way. That was how he had learned about the tiny glitch in his superpower. She had broken his heart without any notice. Actually, she’d ripped it out, stomped on it and driven over it with a steamroller just to be sure she’d done the job thoroughly. She was tough, all right.

“Generous?” Lucy questioned with a tilt of her head after reading the offer. “I’m guessing you assumed we were too busy ‘do-gooding’ to have done our homework.” She folded the piece of paper in half and set it in front of her. Ms. Clayton glanced at it but didn’t pick it up. “The members of the board are educated businesswomen. This is insulting.”

Elizabeth uncrossed and recrossed her legs. She ran her tongue over her teeth, a sure sign that Lucy had struck a nerve. She took a breath before replying. “We aren’t looking to offend anyone. What would it take to get your interest?”

“We aren’t interested in selling,” Lucy answered, but Ms. Clayton bit her lip. The director clearly wasn’t as sure as the legal advisor.

“Well, not all of us are interested,” Tanya Robbards, one of the board members, corrected. “Yet.”

It was Dylan’s turn to negotiate. “We aren’t here pretending we don’t know the predicament Open Arms has found itself in. Surely, you understand that if we wanted, we could wait a few months until the house goes into foreclosure. What we’re offering you—” he pointed at the folded paper, hoping Ms. Clayton would simply look at it “—is a chance to continue to do your work in this city.”

“We don’t need your money to continue our work,” Lucy cut in. The cold, level gaze she gave him did nothing to cool the heat that had crept up his neck. He hated that she could get under his skin so easily yet be so unaffected herself.

“You don’t, or Open Arms doesn’t?” he challenged. “If you foreclose on the house, you gain nothing. If you sell, you have enough equity to keep the rest of the organization running smoothly.” He sought to prey on Ms. Clayton’s fears. “You wouldn’t have to worry about losing this place, as well. So many women and children would still benefit from what you do.”

Ms. Clayton’s gaze drifted back down to the paper and the offer she hadn’t even seen yet. Her fingers tightened around the arms of her chair. She needed one more tiny push. He gave Elizabeth the sign she had been waiting for, and she went for Ms. Clayton’s jugular.

“Add another five thousand to that number,” Elizabeth said. “I’m sure that will help Open Arms purchase a new house in another neighborhood.”

With wide eyes, Ms. Clayton glanced over at Lucy. Her lip had to be bleeding given how hard she was biting it. She was just about to break and glance at the number when Lucy stood up, snatched the paper off the table and crumpled it up.

“We appreciate that you’re so concerned about keeping Open Arms’s doors open. Perhaps you’ll consider donating. We accept all major credit cards and love it when corporations match an employee’s gift.” She opened the door and waited for them to leave the room.

“I suggest you carefully consider what we’re offering,” Elizabeth warned.

“Safe Haven is very important to this agency,” Sharon Langston, another board member, replied. “We’ll be in touch if we’re interested.”

“We promise,” Lucy added.

“Ah, you say that, but do you really mean it?” Dylan asked. She had made promises to him in the past, like she would love him forever and wanted to change the world with him. She hadn’t meant that, now had she?

She didn’t answer. Her expression was pained. Again, he couldn’t tell what that meant. Did she realize how badly she had hurt him five years ago? Did she feel any remorse?

“Well, you have thirty days,” Elizabeth said. “After that, the offer will be off the table for good. Then, like Mr. Hunt explained, we will simply wait for it to foreclose.”

Elizabeth and her team all stood and exited the office. Lucy seemed to be holding her breath as Dylan approached her. He, on the other hand, took her all in. She still smelled like lilacs. The lilac bushes that edged the front gate of his greystone always made him think of her in the springtime.

“Say hello to your family for me,” he said as he walked by. The Everharts were some of the nicest people Dylan had ever met. The first time Lucy had invited him to spend Thanksgiving at their house, he had wanted to be adopted by them. Her dad was so down-to-earth and her mom made everyone feel at home under her roof. Dylan had prayed for her every day when they found out Maureen had been diagnosed with breast cancer.

Even though Lucy had been so brave, she had broken down more than once in his arms over the possibility of losing her mom. He had been so grateful she had survived. When Lucy left him, he had mourned not only the loss of her but of the whole Everhart family.

Lucy didn’t respond to his request. She probably wouldn’t do as he asked. She didn’t care about him or his feelings. She never had.

* * *

BACK AT THE OFFICE, Dylan did everything he could to avoid his mother. Open Arms hadn’t signed on the dotted line and Elizabeth was less than pleased. That meant the same would go for his mother.

Clarissa Stevens-Hunt was one of Chicago’s top corporate lawyers. Stevens and Ellis had been the city’s most prestigious law firm since Dylan’s great-grandfather founded it back in 1924 with his partner, Roger Ellis. Great-grandpa Stevens passed it on to his son, who passed it on to his daughter, who couldn’t wait to bring her son into the fold.

Since the day Dylan was born, it was his destiny to work at Stevens and Ellis whether that was what he wanted or not. Clarissa had never allowed Dylan to consider any other possibilities. The only thing he was supposed to worry about was meeting her high expectations. He’d spent the past seven years trying to prove to everyone, especially his mother, that he deserved his position at the firm and wasn’t just there because of his heritage.

He stared at the stack of case files on his desk. This was Dylan’s reality—a lifetime of business law, white-collar criminal defense and sometimes a little real estate. There had been a time when he thought he might actually do something worthwhile, maybe convince his mother to let him dabble in some environmental law so he could advise corporate clients on sustainability issues and green standards. He had to get in her good graces before he dared to approach her about it. Securing this deal for Prime was about the only thing that could do that.

Clarissa Stevens-Hunt was the exact opposite of someone like Maureen Everhart. Warm and fuzzy were not character traits anyone would use to describe his mother. Dylan rarely saw her while he was growing up. She worked day and night, weekends and holidays. The woman had a smartphone before anyone else in the world knew what a smartphone was. Her phone was the last thing she checked before she went to bed and the first thing she looked at when she woke up. She’d missed family events, birthdays, vacations, even Dylan’s high school graduation. Her job was always the most important thing in her life, and that was how Dylan was supposed to think, too.

Only, Dylan had vowed he’d never put work above the people in his life. He was going to come home for dinner every night, ask his kids about their day, maybe even coach little league baseball. Dylan didn’t have a family of his own; but today, he needed to get out of work by five if he was going to make it to his neighbor Jeremy’s basketball game by six. Missing the game was not an option.

Jeremy was eight years old. His father had never been a part of his life and his mother’s addiction had led her to relinquish her parental rights. His maternal grandparents had taken him in and raised him as their own since the boy was three. Eugene and Gwen lived below Dylan and had sought his legal advice when they were trying to take custody of Jeremy. A year later, Gwen had been diagnosed with ALS and was told she had only three years to live. She survived for two.

It was during those two years that Dylan had bonded with Jeremy. They each filled an empty spot in the other’s life. Dylan had dreamed of having a family with Lucy. When she left him, that dream went with her. Being there for Jeremy while Eugene had been taking care of his wife had meant fewer hours at work and disappointing his mother, but it had been the most worthwhile period of Dylan’s life.

“If anyone calls, I’m unavailable until tomorrow,” Dylan told his assistant. He’d be up all night finishing some briefs, but seeing Jeremy play would be worth it.

“And if your mother calls?”

“My mother will call my cell if she wants to reach me, so you won’t have to worry about that.” He would have to worry about that, but Bridgette would be off the hook.

“How did your Prime meeting go?” Bridgette asked as Dylan shut down his computer.

Other than seeing the love of his life looking better than ever, it had gone the way he thought it would. Part of him had hoped Lucy would be a disheveled mess. The other part knew she would have thrived without him. She had definitely blossomed into a strong and independent woman.

“They didn’t sign. No one wants to accept a loss, but they’re smart women, they’ll take the money and start over somewhere else, I’m sure.”

Bridgette smiled. Her hair was a different shade of red than it had been the day before. She must have gotten it colored, but since she hadn’t mentioned a hair appointment yesterday, Dylan knew not to say anything. She was one of those women who told people she had never seen a gray hair on her head.

“Well, if anyone could tell what they were thinking, it’s you,” she said, picking up his coffee cup from earlier this morning. She was always taking care of little things like that for him. “Have a good night and don’t forget that tomorrow your eight-thirty got moved to seven-thirty and your eleven is now three-thirty.”

He couldn’t thank her enough for the reminder. Bridgette was excellent at her job. It often made him wonder if she had been assigned to him because his mother thought he needed someone like Bridgette or if he had worked hard enough to deserve her. Some people in the firm thought he was treated differently because he was the boss’s son, but Dylan had never considered that a good thing. Being treated differently didn’t always mean being treated better.

Dylan managed to make it out of the building and all the way home without crossing paths with his mother. By six o’clock, he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, sitting next to Eugene in the bleachers of Whitman Elementary’s gymnasium.

Eugene leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He was in his sixties and one of the gentlest souls to walk the earth. The man had been to hell and back, between losing his daughter to a world of drugs and his wife to disease, but somehow he’d maintained his positive spirit. He was a true inspiration and Dylan’s only real friend over the age of eight.

Eugene gave Jeremy a thumbs-up when the little boy scanned the crowd for his two biggest fans. With his hands cupped around his mouth, Dylan cheered loud enough for the entire gymnasium to hear. “Let’s go, Big J!”

“He’s nervous even though I told him all he had to do was have fun out there,” Eugene said.

“He’ll have fun once they get started.”

Jeremy was a bit of an anxious kid. He could be shy around new people, but once he got to know somebody, his true personality would shine through. The other kids on his team were joking around during warm-ups while Jeremy and another boy passed the ball back and forth.

A man in a suit and tie entered the gym, eliciting the biggest smile from Jeremy’s new friend. The guy climbed the bleachers and joined a woman holding a baby girl a couple of rows down from where Dylan and Eugene were sitting. He kissed the woman and promptly stole the infant away from her, planting more kisses on the chubby baby’s cheeks. Dylan felt a tinge of jealousy at the sight of the happy family. As much as he wanted that life, the possibility of ever getting it seemed slim to none. There weren’t many opportunities to date when he worked eighty hours a week, and no one he had dated held a candle to the woman he had wanted to be the mother of his children.

The buzzer sounded, cueing the teams to get ready to play. Jeremy gave them one more quick glance before paying closer attention to his coach’s last words of advice. Dylan had never bothered to look in the stands when he was a kid. He knew no one would be there. His dad had been a trader at the Chicago Stock Exchange, while his mother billed her hundred hours a week for Stevens and Ellis. The nanny dropped Dylan off and picked him up but never stayed for the game. That was why he swore he’d do things differently when he had kids. Jeremy wasn’t his but close enough.

“How’s work going?” Eugene asked as the boys ran up and down the court, no one able to get the ball through the hoop.

“Same as always,” Dylan replied. His phone rang and the caller ID told him it was his mother. He rejected the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. If he didn’t answer, she might think he was busy with something work-related.

Eugene chuckled. “That’s what I get for mentioning work, right?”

“Yeah, knock that off.”

“Maybe if I ask if you’ve met any pretty ladies lately, one will call you and ask you to dinner.”

It was Dylan’s turn to laugh. “I wish.”

Jeremy got the ball under the basket, but instead of taking a shot, he passed it off. The other boy scored and everyone cheered. The family with the baby screamed the loudest.

“Good assist, Jer!” Dylan shouted.

“So, met any pretty ladies lately?” Eugene asked.

Dylan was about to answer when none other than Lucy Everhart slipped through the gym door. He pulled his baseball cap down to hide his face as she scanned the crowd.

His chest tightened and his mouth went dry. What in the world was she doing here?


CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_e8e93b99-2aa7-542c-a4b0-000bbc770ea7)

LUCY WAS LATE for Simon’s game and had no one to blame but herself. She’d spent the better part of the day talking Paige out of calling Mrs. Kerrington and taking her pathetic offer. Today’s meeting had planted dangerous seeds in Paige’s head and made all of the board members question if selling Safe Haven was the right choice or not.

The thought of Dylan and his sparkling blue eyes, pleading with Paige to think of all the good she could do with the money from the sale, was enough to make Lucy scream. As if he had any idea what it took to make a difference in the world working at Stevens and Ellis. Years ago, he had sworn he’d find a way to fight for those without a voice instead of selling his soul to his mother’s affluent and avaricious clients, but it appeared he had done just that.

Kendall waved to get her sister’s attention. Lucy smiled and began trudging up the bleachers. Kendall’s husband, Max, bounced their daughter on his knee. The man was completely smitten. Five-month-old Darcy had her father wrapped around her little finger already. Kendall was in for trouble when that one got big enough to ask for things.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, taking the spot next to Max and holding out her hands for her turn with the baby.

“I just got here,” he protested. Darcy loved new attention more than anything and lunged for her aunt, so Max reluctantly let her go.

The baby girl’s screech was earsplitting. It was her way of saying hello. Lucy made a funny noise in return and Darcy giggled, showing off the two cute baby teeth in her mouth. Her adorable laugh always made Lucy smile. Kendall made amazing babies. The tiny, delusional part of Lucy’s heart that wasn’t completely convinced she didn’t have a family in her future ached a bit more than usual.

“Simon scored a basket.” Kendall reached across Max to give Darcy a toy. “Just before you walked in.”

Of course he had. Keeping Safe Haven from going into foreclosure wasn’t going to be easy, and every minute Lucy spent working was a minute she wouldn’t get to spend with her family. Lucy’s anger toward Prime Developments and Dylan Hunt resurged.

“Your little one dropped her toy,” someone said behind her.

Max snatched up the elephant rattle and shook it in front of Darcy, much to her delight. Lucy tried to push the negativity she felt aside. She was here to watch Simon and enjoy her time with Kendall.

“Thanks,” she said to the older gentleman behind them. The hair at his temples was gray and his beard was more white than brown. He gave her a nod and a gentle smile. Just as she was about to turn back around, Lucy made eye contact with the man sitting beside him and her temper flared. “Are you following me?”

Dylan sighed and readjusted the brim of his hat. “No, I’m not following you.” He dared to sound indignant. “Are you following me?”

Lucy handed Darcy back to Max. She wasn’t going to dignify his question with an answer. “What are you doing here, then?”

“I’m here to watch a basketball game. What are you doing here?”

She faced forward and tried to pretend he wasn’t sitting back there. If she ignored him, it would be as if he didn’t exist. Kendall made Max switch seats so she could be next to Lucy. She hooked arms with her sister.

“Is that who I think it is?” Kendall whispered, glancing over her shoulder.

“Don’t look at him,” Lucy demanded. She wasn’t surprised by her sister’s uncertainty. Kendall had lived out east when Lucy and Dylan were together. “And don’t let me look at him.”

“Well, aren’t you the queen of the cold shoulder? No one does it better than you, Lulu.”

How dare he use that name not once, but twice, today. As much as she wanted to keep her cool, exhaustion was making it impossible. She swung her head around to find Dylan glaring back at her.

“I’ve had just about enough from you,” she snapped.

“I’m sorry, but what exactly did I do that offended you so much?”

“Oh, like you didn’t know I was going to be there today! Just like you probably knew I was going to be here tonight. No one does more research than the almighty Dylan Hunt.”

His eyes narrowed into angry slits. “Hate to burst your self-absorbed bubble, but the world does not revolve around you. I had no idea you were going to be here.”

“Oh, that’s right. Your world revolves around your family’s money and power.” Lucy could feel her skin tingling with her own indignation. “I hope you know I’m not going to let the board sell Safe Haven today, tomorrow or ever. Whatever your big plan is, you can forget it because we’re not interested. You can leave me alone now.”

“I’m already done with you,” he sneered. Those words stung more than she expected. “You don’t really have a say. Your role at Open Arms doesn’t give you the power to decide what you do with that house on Western. Your board will realize Prime is offering them an easy out. There was more than one person at that table today ready to accept our offer even before Elizabeth sweetened the deal. I could tell.”

It burned her to know he was right. She hated that he could read people so well. Some of their fellow students in law school had actually believed he was psychic. Lucy knew better than to buy into that baloney. He was observant, that was all. Too observant.

“They’ll never sell, and if by some miracle they do, it won’t be to anyone associated with you. I’ll make sure of that.”

Kendall tugged on her arm. Hard. “Lucy, stop.”

It was unclear how many times Kendall had already said that before it finally registered. The quarter had ended and the referee walked up the bleachers, stopping before he got to Lucy’s row.

“I’m going to have to ask you both to leave. This isn’t the place for whatever is going on between the two of you. You need to take it out of the gymnasium, please.”

“You’re kicking me out?” Lucy’s embarrassment heated her cheeks.

“I’m asking you to leave the gym, yes.” The ref glanced up at Dylan, as well.

“Fantastic,” Dylan mumbled under his breath, which for some reason struck another nerve.

“Don’t act like this is my fault. You’re the stalker.”

“Get over yourself,” he said, rising to his feet and shaking hands with the man next to him. “Tell Jeremy I’m sorry I couldn’t watch him play. I’ll be at the next one—as long as we sit as far away from certain crazy people as possible.”

Lucy huffed and grabbed her purse. “I’ll be outside,” she said to Kendall.

The referee followed them out, waiting until the door closed before returning to the game. Lucy peered through the narrow window that offered her a partial view of the court. She could feel Dylan staring a hole in the back of her head.

“Don’t think seeing you again was easy for me just because I knew it was coming,” he said. His voice was soft, as it often sounded in her memory. “You left me, remember?”

She hadn’t forgotten, although it was more like she had left him before he got the chance to leave her. He would have left. Eventually.

Lucy swallowed down the emotion lodged in her throat. Her feelings for him had never really gone away, and they demanded to be felt right now. There had been a vulnerable side to Dylan that made her protective of him. A side that longed to break free from his mother’s expectations and demands. He had wanted to make a difference, to work beside Lucy as she made a difference, too. They were going to change the world...together.

She could deny it all she wanted, but part of her still loved the man who once climbed up onto the bar at their favorite restaurant and announced to everyone that he was madly in love with her. She still thought about the guy who had fallen asleep more times than she could count on her couch, surrounded by law books after a long night of studying.

Lucy searched for some courage and turned around, only to find the corridor empty. He was already gone. It shouldn’t have been such a shock. She already knew that the man she had fallen in love with didn’t exist anymore.

* * *

“I’M SORRY,” LUCY mouthed to Kendall when they finally emerged from the gym after the game. Lucy had been able to see everything that happened on one end of the court but not the other. The final score was still a mystery.

Her younger sister gave her “the look,” the one that said she forgave her but wasn’t the least bit happy.

“So, how’d you do?” she asked Simon.

The smile on his face spoke a million words. “We won by four points!”

Lucy held up her hand for a high five and he didn’t hold back. She shook her hand out to ease the sting. The kid was growing up too fast. Lucy could remember when he was as small as his baby sister. At eight, Simon was too heavy to carry and had feet that were almost as big as his mom’s.

“I think that means I need to take you out for ice cream to celebrate.”

“Yes!”

Max side-hugged Simon. “I have to head back to the restaurant, but you did awesome, buddy.”

Kendall had lucked out in the kid and the husband department, at least the second time around. Max wasn’t Simon’s father, but no one would ever know by watching the two of them interact. When Simon’s father died, so did the light inside of him. But then Max came into their lives, and he lit him back up and helped him shine even brighter than before.

As Kendall and Simon said goodbye to Max, Lucy watched as the older gentleman who had been sitting with Dylan walked by hand in hand with another kid on the team.

“Are you sure Dylan wasn’t mad at me for not making a basket?” the boy asked the man.

“No, no, no! He would never be mad at you for that. He’ll be at the next game, I promise.”

The guilt was like a stab straight through the heart. Dylan really had been there to watch the game. Not only was she embarrassed for the attention she had drawn to herself, but now she had to live with the fact that she had made a little boy doubt himself.

“Can we go to the Triple C, Aunt Lulu?” Simon asked, grabbing Lucy’s hand. Lulu was the name Simon had called her when he was just learning to talk. Dylan had thought it was cute, so he took to calling her Lulu, as well. The nickname always left her with mixed emotions.

She forced herself to smile for Simon’s sake. “Where else would we go?”

The Chi-Town Chilly Cow was an Everhart family favorite. Lucy remembered going there as a kid and wanting to order everything. Her dad would only let them get a one-scoop cone, so she would order a different flavor every time they went. Now she could get whatever she wanted, but ice cream was not part of her diet. Given the studies on dairy, there was no way she was giving her body any more ammunition to do her in.

Lucy let Simon order the craziest sundae on the menu. Something with chunks of brownies and chocolate chip cookies in it, topped with gummy bears and more chocolate. The girl behind the counter began to ring it up, when Lucy stopped her.

“There should be a note back there saying Lucy Everhart gets free ice cream for life.” Thanks to her idea that the Triple C go all organic, the owners had experienced an explosion in sales. They’d offered her a lifetime supply of ice cream as a thank-you. She rarely took advantage of the perk unless she was treating her favorite nephew.

“There is, but you’re not Lucy Everhart,” the girl said.

Lucy’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m not?”

“No, you aren’t. I’ve been working here for almost a year. Lucy Everhart comes in here all the time. She’s a really tall brunette. Comes in with this supercute guy. I know Lucy Everhart.”

“Emma,” Lucy said with a growl.

Kendall nodded. “I told her it was going to catch up to her one of these days, but you know Emma. She thought she could get away with it forever.”

Lucy pulled out her driver’s license. “I am Lucy Everhart. The woman you’ve been giving free ice cream to is my sister. Do me a favor and add an extra note back there that warns your coworkers not to be fooled by tall brunette frauds.”

The girl inspected the ID as if she was a bouncer at a college bar. She even tried to scratch the picture off to no avail. Once she finally agreed she’d been duped by the most conniving of the Everhart sisters, she gave Lucy Simon’s sundae for free.

Simon and Kendall took turns devouring the frozen treat while Lucy kept Darcy entertained. It didn’t take those two more than a few minutes to put the whole thing in their bellies.

“So...Dylan Hunt,” Kendall said, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

“Don’t start.”

“I don’t remember him being so incredibly hot.”

“Don’t. Start.” Lucy didn’t want to think about how good-looking Dylan was or wasn’t. Of course, he was incredibly hot, just as Kendall had said. He was the most attractive guy Lucy had ever dated.

“You got kicked out of my son’s basketball game because you made a ridiculous scene. I get to start.”

“Fine,” Lucy huffed. “Dylan showed up at Open Arms today with his client—the developer that wants to buy the house we use as a shelter in Logan Square. I spent all day trying to convince Paige we don’t have to sell yet.”

“Yet? I thought that was why you were adding the auction to the fund-raiser.”

Lucy wanted more than anyone to believe that was true. “Right. The fund-raiser should bring in a lot of money.”

“Enough to pay off the house?” Kendall asked. Her hopefulness was almost too much to bear.

“No, but enough to get us by until I come up with another plan.” What that plan would be was beyond her.

“Things will work out the way they’re supposed to. So, back to incredibly hot Dylan—is he married? Did he ask if you were married? What’s he been doing the past five years?”

Kendall was obviously trying to punish her for embarrassing them all at the game today. This was some cruel payback. “I don’t know, no and I don’t care. There really is nothing to tell. He’s probably trying to think of a plan to convince Paige to beg the board to sell. He’ll fail. He’ll move on. I’ll never see him again.”

“And I thought I’d never have to see Max once I finished remodeling Sato’s,” Kendall reminded her. “And look how that turned out.”

“Fine, never say never. But it doesn’t matter.”

“Really?” Kendall could always tell when Lucy was hiding something.

“Really.” Even if Dylan wasn’t working for the enemy, she couldn’t let herself forget that she’d sent him away and he’d gone willingly. “Running into him twice in one day? Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something,” Kendall said although she knew Lucy didn’t believe in that kind of stuff.

“The universe doesn’t communicate with anyone.”

Kendall threw up her hands. “I don’t know what happened five years ago. You didn’t want to talk about it then, and I’m sure I won’t get it out of you now. But he was the only guy I ever thought had a real chance with you. You two seemed so perfect together.”

Lucy wasn’t perfect for anyone. She had been guilted into this conversation, and now it was over. Lucy didn’t let any man have a chance with her because what was the point? She was a ticking time bomb.

Cancer was always lurking around the corner. It was sinister, biding its time, waiting for Lucy to drop her guard and believe she was safe from its clutches. She’d beaten it once, but how long would it really be before it put her to the test again? She certainly wasn’t going to ask someone to commit to her when their lives might have very different expiration dates.


CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_002ce93d-85b0-5046-96e0-ebc570fb8601)

DYLAN DROVE HOME and sulked on his couch for a few minutes before the urge to do something with his hands overtook him. Fixing and fiddling with things were the best stress relievers. Dylan had installed all the crown molding in his apartment with Eugene’s help. A former carpenter, Eugene often spent hours teaching Dylan how to do things right the first time. Together, they had refurbished the fireplace in Dylan’s place and updated all the trim work in Eugene’s.

The building they lived in was an older greystone that was split into two residences. Eugene had the downstairs two-bedroom unit and Dylan owned the two-story loft above it. Moving here had been the best decision he’d made after Lucy broke up with him. He could have easily afforded a fancy rehab in the neighborhood, with all the modern conveniences, but Dylan found he enjoyed taking something that was a little rough around the edges and sprucing it up on his own.

His latest project was the kitchen. Since he rarely cooked, it wasn’t a big deal for him to take his time updating it. Dylan had stained the cabinets a dark, warm gray. With the stainless steel appliances and marble backsplash he’d picked out, it was going to be ultrastylish. He needed Eugene’s help to hang the uppers, but he figured he could put the door pulls on the lower cabinets tonight.

It was a mindless task, which wasn’t good. It allowed his thoughts to wander back to Lucy. The woman had a way of making him want to run away and never leave her side at the same time. In the end, he had decided that if she didn’t want him around, he wasn’t going to force someone to care about him.

He had no idea where he had gone wrong with Lucy and often wondered what his life would have been like if they had stayed together. Would they be married right now? Would they have kids? Would they be happy, or would she be miserable?

Dylan wasn’t sure he could make her happy. It was too difficult to tell how she really felt about anything. Whenever he thought he had her figured out, she made sure he knew he’d been wrong. He still couldn’t believe he had misread her feelings for him so completely. He had never hidden his feelings from her. He loved her so much he worried he would love her forever. Unrequited love was a horrible cross to bear.

His phone rang. It was his mother. He couldn’t avoid her at this time of night. In her opinion, if he was working this late, it was work that could be interrupted by a call.

“Dylan Hunt,” he answered as if he didn’t know it was her.

“How did it go today? I didn’t hear anything from Elizabeth. Does that mean the deal went through?”

Did she micromanage everyone this way? He was sure she didn’t. It felt as if she never trusted him to be competent enough. He’d felt that his entire life. He was determined to prove he was capable, which was why he’d taken on this particular case.

“The board is still considering its options. If they vote to sell, they’ll hopefully sell to Prime Developments. Not much more I can do at this point but wait.”

“I see Lucy Everhart works there. Is that the same woman who stole the Wigmore Key from you?”

Dylan rubbed his temples. The Wigmore Key wasn’t something that could be stolen. His mother still resented the fact that Lucy had won the prestigious award from Northwestern Law instead of Dylan. What she failed to realize—or maybe just wouldn’t admit—was that Lucy had earned it.

“She’s the same woman who won the award.”

“Well, there you go. You need to use your relationship with her to move things along. What more do you need than an alumni connection?”

Dylan couldn’t stand how his mother saw relationships only in terms of what two people could do to advance each other’s plans. He also hated that she refused to acknowledge that Lucy was more than a rival from school.

It didn’t seem to matter to her that Lucy and Dylan had dated for years. Or that she was the woman he’d wanted to marry and the one who obliterated his heart. To Clarissa, they had graduated from the same law school and Lucy should give Dylan what he wanted out of respect for that connection.

“I don’t think Lucy views our shared past as a reason to work with Prime Developments.” He didn’t want to tell her how Lucy had sworn not to let the board deal with anyone associated with him personally. “I’m going to keep my distance and let the board think things over.”

His mom sighed. “That sounds like the exact opposite of what you should do, Dylan. If that house goes into foreclosure, there will be plenty of people vying to snatch it up in an attempt to force Prime to buy it from them for a killing. You need to use every advantage you’ve got to get this done quickly.”

He had nothing except one very angry ex-girlfriend. “I have it under control. The executive director is still on the fence about selling. If I lean on her a little and she supports the sale, the deal will go through for sure. The board trusts her and her judgment.”

“Then do it. Do whatever you need to do to gain her trust. What does she need? Give it to her in exchange for the deal.” She pulled the phone away to talk to someone else for a moment. It was no surprise that she was still at the office so late into the night. The woman never stopped. If she could find a way to sleep and work at the same time, she would do it. “I have a case to get back to. We’ll do lunch next week. I’ll have my assistant set something up with yours.”

She’d never offered to get together for lunch before. Dylan was so caught off guard he didn’t get a chance to accept the invitation before his mother hung up. There had to be some ulterior motive. She was probably displeased about something and needed to scold him in person to make her point. Maybe he wasn’t billing enough. He definitely wasn’t working as many hours as she’d like. Maybe she had caught wind of the rumor that he’d been asking about doing some pro bono work. That wasn’t really a rumor. He was seeking something a little more spiritually satisfying than what he’d spent the past few years doing.

Scrubbing his face, he wondered how much more of this he could take before he broke. This job, this life—none of it was what he’d dreamed of. There was more than enough money in the bank, but money couldn’t buy him anything he really wanted.

What he wanted was a blonde fireball with dreams bigger than both of them. He wanted her to smile when she saw him and put her hand in his whenever she was near. He wanted to kiss her lips anytime they were close enough and to feel her heart beat in rhythm with his.

Dylan had lived a charmed life, for sure. He had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He grew up in the lap of luxury, wore designer clothes, drove the fanciest cars and went to the best schools. But what Dylan wanted had nothing to do with money and material things. He wanted a family of his own. He had wanted that family to begin with Lucy, but he could never deny her anything.

So, if she wanted a fight, he’d give her one.

* * *

GIVING PAIGE CLAYTON what she wanted was fairly easy once he thought about what she really needed. Dylan entered Open Arms with a few helpers in tow.

“Can I help you?” her assistant asked, standing up to see why they were invading.

“Is Ms. Clayton in?”

Ms. Clayton came out of her office and stopped short when she saw Dylan. “Mr. Hunt, how can I help you?”

Lucy came flying out of her office, apparently at the sound of Dylan’s name. She was in jeans and a T-shirt today. Casual never looked so good. “Seriously? What are you doing here?”

“I noticed your office furniture has seen better days. You said you’d love any donations, and we had some chairs and such sitting in storage. I was hoping you could use them.”

He motioned for them to join him by the door so they could see the chairs and other goodies he had brought with him. Ms. Clayton’s mouth dropped open and he could practically hear her internal squeal at the thought of getting a real desk chair. Lucy didn’t appear as excited, not that his perception meant anything. She could be just as thrilled, but she wouldn’t show it.

“We don’t need hand-me-downs from Stevens and Ellis,” she said, stepping back toward her office.

“Uh, yeah, we do,” Ms. Clayton said, giving Dylan a pat on the shoulder. “This is really kind of you.”

Lucy let out a harsh, derisive laugh. “He’s trying to bribe us, Paige! We don’t take bribes, Dylan. It’s unethical for your firm to give us anything.”

“This is a personal donation. I bought them from Stevens and Ellis with my own money, and I want you to have them. Would you like to see the receipt?” He pulled a sheet of paper from his back pocket.

“Personal donations are completely ethical. We accept, Mr. Hunt,” Ms. Clayton said. “Bring those babies in here.”

Dylan’s guys brought in all the new office furniture and helped remove all the broken, worn-out stuff. Ms. Clayton smiled ear to ear while Lucy stood with arms crossed and a scowl on her face. This had to mean she was unhappy, but Dylan noticed she swapped her desk chair for a new one. She never did what he expected; at least that much was predictable about her.

Once everything was in place, he sent his hired hands away and made Ms. Clayton one more offer she couldn’t possibly refuse.

“I noticed there are a couple of things that could use fixing around here.” Dylan pointed to the hole in the wall by the entrance and the broken light fixture above Ms. Clayton’s assistant’s desk. “I have a friend who could help me get these things patched up for you in no time.”

“We don’t have a budget for repairs right now,” Ms. Clayton said, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Thank you for offering, though.”

“Oh, no, it would be another donation,” Dylan clarified. “I would take care of all the materials. Eugene and I would do the work ourselves.”

“You would do the handiwork?” Lucy leaned against her doorjamb.

He tried not to be offended. His Mr. Fix-It side hadn’t shown itself until after she left him. She didn’t have to act so surprised by it, though.

“Is that really so hard to believe?”

She shrugged as if it didn’t matter any way. Lucy didn’t care about what he could or couldn’t do. She simply wanted him gone. He needed to make this deal for Prime Developments and then he would leave her alone.

Ms. Clayton was pretty much putty in his hands. Her smile was large and grateful. “Sometimes I feel like this place is falling apart around me and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a big deal for me to help out. I’m one of those guys who sees a need and likes to fill it.”

Lucy let out another sarcastic guffaw and turned to her boss. “Please tell me you see what ‘need’ he’s trying to fill here. Or maybe I should say whose need he’s trying to fill, because it isn’t ours.”

“Good to know your trust issues are still holding you back.” Even though she was right for questioning his motives, he couldn’t stop himself from going on the attack.

Her arms fell to her sides and Lucy stood straight and tall. “Don’t you dare claim that my not trusting your intentions is a personality flaw.”

Ms. Clayton had been watching the exchange nervously. “Why do I feel like you two know one another?”

It was another blow to Dylan’s ego that Lucy hadn’t mentioned their history to Ms. Clayton. He really must not have meant that much to her back then. “She didn’t tell you we knew each other in law school?” Dylan decided he’d let Lucy be the one to acknowledge their romantic connection.

“She did not.” Ms. Clayton glared at Lucy, who was rolling her eyes.

“Let me guess, this isn’t the first time Lucy has left out some details. I bet that drives you nuts, but you let it slide because picking a fight with her is pointless. She never loses, which also drives you nuts but also makes you glad she’s on your side.”

“Whoa.” Ms. Clayton was impressed. “Get out of my head.”

“Dylan fancies himself one of those people who can read other people’s minds. What he really does is make you believe you want to buy what he’s selling. Of course, in our case, he’s going to try to convince you to sell what he’s buying.”

“I’ve never claimed to be a mind reader. I simply notice things others ignore.”

Lucy shook her head. “And ignore the things people are trying to get through your thick skull.” She slipped back into her office and shut the door.

Little did she know she was making herself crystal clear. She hated him. He didn’t need to be a mind reader to figure that out. What he didn’t understand was why.

Ms. Clayton stuck out her hand and Dylan shook it. “I accept your offer to help us out. I may not read minds, but my instincts about people are usually spot-on.”

“Thank you,” Dylan said sincerely. “I really do enjoy fixing things up.”

This might be a way to get Open Arms to sell to Prime Developments, but it was also a chance for Dylan to do something good, something worthwhile. Lucy could doubt his intentions all she liked. He truly did want to help out. Couldn’t he help both Prime Developments and Open Arms?

Paige smiled as if she believed him. “We have lots of things that need fixing.”

“I promise not to discuss real estate while I’m here.” He wouldn’t need to. Once she believed he was one of the good guys, everything else would work itself out. Open Arms wasn’t going to be able to afford their mortgage payments soon enough. They might not want to sell, but there would soon be no other reasonable option. They would eventually sell the house to someone. Why not to his client? Being a person Ms. Clayton trusted put Prime Developments in an excellent position and would give him the win he needed to confidently go to his mother with a new vision for his career at Stevens and Ellis.

“Good,” she said. “And I promise not to ask how close you and Lucy were when you were in law school together.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “I’m picking up on some very strong you-were-more-than-just-classmates vibes. Am I right?” She opened her eyes, the corners of her mouth upturned in a self-satisfied grin.

“And she thinks I’m the mind reader.”

“She should know better than to underestimate me. So should you, Mr. Hunt,” she said with a wink.


CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_2e9c101c-713e-5d00-8ee9-24e9413d1061)

LUCY HAD NEVER met a checkbook she couldn’t balance. She might not have gone to school for accounting, but she had good number sense. The files Nora had given her were filled with a lot of numbers—numbers that were not adding up. Of course, the incessant hammering going on in the main office was not helping her concentration.

Paige was too smart to fall for Dylan’s manipulation, so why was she being naive about his true intentions? He was so transparent, it was pathetic. He had to know no one was going to believe he was doing anything for Open Arms out of the goodness of his heart. He wanted their house. He also wanted to drive Lucy crazy.

She covered her ears and shut her tired eyes. It sounded as if an entire construction crew was out in the reception area. The banging and drilling and sawing were creating a sensory overload. If she had wanted to listen to this racket all day, she would have gone to work for her dad’s construction company.

Pushing back her new chair from her desk, she practically flew the three steps to the door and yanked it open. She wasn’t expecting to come face-to-chest with Dylan. His navy blue T-shirt was pulled tight across said chest, the muscles clearly defined under the cotton. His arms were raised up over his head and his focus was on something above her door.

The urge to wrap her arms around his waist and press her cheek against him nearly knocked her off her feet. Shocked by the impulse, Lucy stepped back and cleared her throat. There would be no comfort found in Dylan’s arms ever again.

He lowered his chin and leveled his gaze with hers. “Sorry, are we too loud out here? The noise is bugging you, isn’t it?”

She refused to let him know he was right. “No, you’re just in my way.”

Dylan took notice of the fact that he was blocking her path. He sighed and stepped aside. “Of course.”

Lucy slid past him and she made her way into Paige’s office, closing the door so their new handyman couldn’t overhear.

“How can you work with your door open?”

“Did you see how quickly they got that hole patched up?” Paige was grinning from ear to ear as she leaned forward. “Eugene offered to give the whole place a fresh coat of paint. I’m thinking we should add a little color to this place. Maybe do everything in yellows and grays. That’s in right now. What do you think?”

“What are you talking about?” Lucy felt as if she had stepped into another dimension. “Who’s Eugene?”

“Dylan’s friend. The guy helping him with the repairs.” Apparently, they were all on a first-name basis now.

Lucy hadn’t noticed anyone else once she got past Dylan and his too-tight T-shirt. “I came in because it’s supposed to be quiet here on Saturdays. I can’t get anything done with all this noise. Do you want to get some lunch with me before I head home?”

Paige sank back in her fancy leather chair. “Are you really going to make me get up?” She closed her eyes and swiveled the chair from side to side, something she could never do with her old one. “I love this office furniture. Have I mentioned that?”

“Only a hundred times. It’s not annoying or anything. Oh, wait. Yes, it is. It’s very annoying.”

Paige opened one eye and then the other. “I’m not falling for anyone’s tricks if that’s what you think. There is no reason not to enjoy the gifts we are being given.”

“He’s making you like him,” Lucy argued. “If the board is swayed to sell, you’re going to feel like you owe it to him to sell to his client because he’s been so nice to you.”

“If the board votes to sell, why shouldn’t we sell to his client? What’s your deal with this guy? Give me a reason not to like him.”

The real reason would only lead to more questions that Lucy didn’t want to answer. “Just trust me on this one. Please.”

Paige narrowed her eyes as if trying to read Lucy’s mind. Seemingly giving up, she sighed. “Fine, but one of these days I’m getting the whole story. I’ll bring the wine, you’ll bring the details.”

Not even Lucy’s sisters knew the details. Dylan was an off-limits topic even with those closest to her. Opening those wounds any further could only result in disaster. Lucy wasn’t going there—ever.

The pounding of a hammer brought Lucy out of her head. She stood up and motioned toward the reception area. “Can we please go get some lunch before I take all of their tools away and throw them out the window?”

Paige laughed and pulled herself up and out of her chair. “Can I like Eugene? He has nothing to do with Prime Developments and he wants to paint this place for free. Did I mention that he offered to do that?”

“You did. And I don’t care who you like as long as it’s not—” Lucy opened the door and was once again greeted by Dylan’s blue shirt. Her eyes found his. “Why are you always in my way?”

“I was just coming to tell Paige that we’re breaking for lunch.”

“We were heading to lunch, too.” Paige nudged Lucy aside. “Do you and Eugene want to join us?”

Had she completely forgotten everything they were just talking about? Lucy was going to lunch to get away from Dylan, not to socialize with him. “We’re going to City Vegan. That’s not really Dylan’s style.”

“We could go somewhere else,” Paige suggested.

“No, don’t change your plans for us.” Dylan backed away from the door. Lucy’s shoulders relaxed until he added, “We’ll go to the vegan place.”

“Since when do you eat vegan food?” she asked, frustrated by his air of nonchalance around her. If he had really cared about her five years ago, he should find it as hard to be around her as it was for her to be near him. She had broken up with him. Why did it feel as if she had been jilted?

“You’re the only one who can change her diet? I remember you telling me that eating less meat could save my life. Maybe I listened to you.”

She didn’t believe him for a second. When her mother had gotten sick, Lucy changed several of her habits. What she ate became a matter of life or death. Dylan had been supportive but had not been a fan of a vegetarian or vegan lifestyle. Tofu burgers had never satisfied him the way the big, juicy ones made out of midwestern Angus beef had.

He was obviously trying to ruin her entire day. Maybe this was his way of punishing her for the breakup. Maybe he wasn’t being as mature about it as she originally thought.

If getting under her skin was his plan, she would do everything she could not to show her irritation. He wasn’t the only one who could act as if their past meant nothing. She took a breath and pasted on a smile. “Great.”

“Great?” Dylan and Paige both echoed. Evidently, neither of them had been expecting that answer.

Lucy motioned for Dylan to step aside and exited Paige’s office. “Come on, Eugene. Put down your hammer and let’s get some lunch!”

Eugene stopped midswing. His eyes moved back and forth between Lucy and Dylan. That was when Lucy realized she had seen the older gentleman before. He was the man with the little boy at Simon’s basketball game. The man who was sitting with Dylan and had heard her verbally blast him for being there. No wonder he could hardly believe they were going anywhere together.

“Well, you heard the lady,” Dylan said. “We’re going to lunch. With them. Let’s go.”

“I promise not to get us kicked out of anywhere this time,” she added in an attempt to reassure Eugene. That seemed to do the trick. His shoulders relaxed and he slid his hammer into a loop on his tool belt.

“This time? Oh, that sounds like a story,” Paige said, closing her office door.

Paige, and her need to know things. Some stories weren’t worth being told. The endings were too depressing.

* * *

CITY VEGAN WAS one of Lucy’s favorite restaurants. In her mind, there wasn’t a bad thing on the menu, but she could tell Dylan and Eugene were having a hard time finding something they dared to try.

“What’s soy chicken?” Eugene asked Paige. “I thought this place was vegetarian.”

“It’s fake chicken. It’s soy made to look and taste like chicken,” Dylan answered for her.

Eugene’s nose scrunched up and he set down his menu. “If vegetarians don’t like meat, why would they want to eat something that looks and tastes like chicken?”

Lucy was used to fielding this kind of question. The animal rights activist inside her pushed her to skip meat more often than not, but being a child raised on midwestern beef and Chicago hot dogs, she hadn’t given it up completely.

“There are a lot of people out there who don’t eat meat because they believe it’s wrong. That doesn’t mean they don’t miss the taste and texture of it. Soy chicken allows them to pretend to eat meat without harming any animals in the process.”

“Well, you learn something new every day,” Eugene said, picking his menu back up.

“If you aren’t used to eating this way, I suggest these noodles.” Paige leaned in, reaching across Eugene to show him what she was talking about. Her hand brushed against his arm and he smiled at the contact.

Lucy cocked her head and stared at the two of them. Was Paige flirting with this guy? She giggled at something Eugene said and playfully pushed his shoulder.

Oh, she was definitely flirting.

It was still unclear how Dylan and Eugene knew one another. Theirs seemed an unlikely friendship. Lucy couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the boy, whom she deduced was Eugene’s grandson. It sounded as if he lived with Eugene but was spending the weekend with an aunt and uncle. Perhaps Dylan had known the boy’s parents. Why else would he attend the eight-year-old’s basketball game?

They ordered lunch and Dylan joined in the conversation between Eugene and Paige. The three of them laughed and socialized while Lucy sat in silent objection to this ridiculous game Dylan was obviously playing. She fought an eye roll when he showed off his skill at reading people.

The waitress became his unwitting subject. He guessed she was newly engaged, a student at DePaul University and not originally from Chicago. Paige hung on every word but doubted he could have gathered that much information from the few interactions they had had with the young woman.

“If I’m right, lunch is on you. If I’m wrong, I’ll buy,” he offered.

“Don’t make any bets with this man,” Lucy warned. She had seen Dylan swindle too many people in the time they were together to let her friend become his next victim.

Paige wouldn’t listen. “There’s no way he’s right about all of that. I’m in.”

“You have to swear you don’t know that girl, though,” Eugene said. “Don’t be cheating this nice lady. If you know her, fess up right now.”

Dylan raised his hands. “I swear I have never seen her before in my life. Ask her when she comes back to the table. I don’t have to cheat to win. I promise you that.”

This was true. Dylan Hunt did not cheat and he almost always won. It used to drive Lucy crazy. Still did, apparently.

The waitress came back to refill their drinks, and she confirmed for Eugene that she had never met Dylan. She was surprised to be asked but happy to share that she actually was recently engaged, showing everyone her ring and gushing about how romantic the proposal had been. She also admitted to being a student at DePaul, studying library science. Spitefully, Lucy thought there was no way Dylan would have guessed the woman wanted to be a librarian. Last, the waitress informed Paige that she was originally from South Carolina. Lucy had picked up on her slight accent earlier and had known Dylan was right about that one.

“That totally freaks me out.” Paige’s eyes were wide and her mouth hung open. “How did you know all that?”

“My grandmother was a psychic,” Dylan said straight-faced. “She taught me how to read minds.”

“Seriously?” Eugene asked, his expression a mirror image of Paige’s.

Lucy snorted. Dylan had a way of turning even the most intelligent people into naive nitwits. “He can’t read minds.”

“Well, not hers,” Dylan said, jerking a thumb in Lucy’s direction. “It’s the metal plates in her skull. Blocks me out.”

“You have metal plates in your skull?” Paige’s jaw dropped farther.

Lucy sighed heavily. “No, I do not have metal plates in my skull. And no, he cannot read minds. He pays attention. That’s it. He heard her Southern accent. He noticed her showing off her ring to someone else. He probably just guessed based on her age that she’s a student. He can’t read my mind or anyone else’s.”

“Actually, she has a DePaul lanyard sticking out of her back pocket. That’s how I knew. I didn’t guess. I rarely guess.” The way he glared at her made Lucy’s cheeks flush.

“Of course. I should have figured you got a good look at her backside.”

“Excuse me?” Dylan’s voice rose slightly.

“Oh, please. You always notice a beautiful woman’s assets.”

“I think all men appreciate a beautiful woman. You make me sound like some sort of creep.”

The heat of her anger warmed Lucy’s whole body. She didn’t even care about his stupid mind tricks. Five years of built-up feelings were hitting her all at once. He had let her leave him. He would have left her when he found out she would be permanently scarred. He never would have wanted to be with someone whose curves weren’t real.

She did her best to tamp her emotions back down. “If the shoe fits...”

Eugene cleared his throat and Lucy noticed the other diners in their section of the restaurant were gaping at her.

“I was told no one was going to get us thrown out of here,” Eugene said. “If you two can’t be civil, that’s exactly what will happen.”

Lucy and Dylan each took a deep breath and kept their mouths shut so no more words could sneak out. This was a huge mistake. Thinking they could spend an amicable lunch together was laughable. Lucy was about to get up and leave when the food arrived. Eating would thankfully keep their mouths busy.

All conversation ceased at their small, square table. Eugene let Paige know her noodle recommendation was a good one, but that was pretty much all anyone said until it was time to go. Dylan pulled out his wallet to pay the bill.

“Put that away,” Paige said, reaching for her purse. “I lost the bet. Lunch is on me.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t really read her mind. It was all simple observation, like Lucy said.”

“The bet wasn’t about whether or not you could read minds, it was about whether or not you were right. You were definitely right. Lunch is on me,” Paige insisted.

Dylan stole a glance in Lucy’s direction. He was probably afraid of being verbally assaulted if he let Paige pay. With a full belly and some self-reflection, Lucy could admit she had been harder on him than he deserved. Eugene must think she was crazy.

“How about you all let me pay? I’m the one who ruined everyone’s lunch.” She had also made it clear to Dylan that he was affecting her more than she wanted him to know. She pulled out some cash and slipped it in the bill folder. “Tell our waitress to keep the change. I’m going to head home to finish some work.”

Paige and Eugene thanked her and offered her a goodbye. Dylan said nothing. She was halfway out the door when she felt someone grip her arm.

“Hang on a second.” Dylan let her go the moment she stopped moving. “I just want to be clear about something.” His jaw was tense but his eyes were soft. “I don’t know why you dislike me so much, but this isn’t about us.”

The way he said “us” made Lucy’s stomach flip. There hadn’t been an “us” in a very long time. There would never be an “us” again.

“I know. It’s about Open Arms and Safe Haven. Two things I care about. Two things that I won’t give up.”

Dylan looked as though she had punched him in the gut. His hurt expression quickly changed to one full of nothing but exasperation. He leaned in close and seemed to be trying hard to keep his voice calm. “Well, I want you to know that I’m not giving up, either. Maybe it’s your turn to find out what it’s like to lose something you care about.”

He disappeared back into the restaurant, leaving Lucy without an opportunity to have the last word. She knew better than anyone what it was like to lose. Where were his sense of passion and willingness to fight for what he wanted five years ago? He seemed to care more about this real estate deal than he’d ever cared about her.


CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_77a6c9a4-edde-5370-b234-b214d9b7180c)

IF DYLAN HAD to write a list of words that described Lucy Everhart, it would include every synonym for infuriating. Her nasty attitude toward him was beyond tiring. It was unbelievable that she could be so bitter when she was the one who had ended their relationship half a decade ago. If anyone had a right to be hateful, it was Dylan, not she.

He decided he needed to do whatever it took to get this deal promptly done for Prime Developments. Paige was the key and Dylan had her all figured out. The gifts of furniture and repairs opened the door exactly as he’d planned. What he hadn’t expected was the way she’d taken to Eugene. It was an added bonus.

The good news was that Eugene seemed equally smitten. He was definitely disappointed when Paige didn’t stick around on Sunday while they painted. She had business to attend to at Safe Haven and left them to work under the watchful eye of Hannah, her assistant.

Lucy was not around, which was a relief. He couldn’t take any more of her wrath. She made him question everything about their shared past. The things she had said at lunch made him feel as if she’d doubted his fidelity when they were together, which was unbelievable. When she had been in his life, there had been no one else. No one caught his eye the way Lucy still did.

“I have to go,” Eugene said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Jeremy gets home in an hour.”

They had primed all the walls and trimmed everything in the light gray Paige had picked out. Dylan could finish the rest on his own fairly easily. “Thanks for your help this weekend. I owe you one.”

“You always owe me one. I think we’re up to somewhere around a hundred ones by now.”

“You know I’m good for it, right?”

“Maybe if you give my number to Paige so she can call me, you know, whenever she needs a handyman, I’ll call us even.”

Dylan’s eyebrows lifted. Good ol’ Eugene was more than smitten. Taking care of Jeremy was all he ever focused on. It was good to see him doing something for himself. “Well, well, well. I think someone hopes she calls for more than just a handyman.”

Eugene fought a smile as his cheeks pinked up. “Don’t forget to touch up the ceiling where we patched.”

“I won’t,” Dylan promised, chuckling at his friend’s attempt to change the subject.

Finishing the job alone wasn’t difficult. Hannah was busy gossiping with someone on the phone, classic rock was playing on the radio Eugene left behind and rolling paint on the wall didn’t take too much skill. Dylan let the music move him while he worked. His hips began to sway a little and his head bobbed to the beat. During a particular part of the song, he might have strummed a few chords of air guitar.

“What are you doing?”

Dylan’s head snapped in the direction of her voice. Lucy was staring as if he was spray painting graffiti on the walls. He gave his work a quick once-over to make sure he hadn’t messed something up while enjoying the music. When he was satisfied that everything was fine, his gaze landed back on her. “Painting.”

“Painting?” She cocked a brow. “Not channeling Eric Clapton?”

Was she teasing him? When the corners of her mouth curled up the tiniest bit, he relaxed and shrugged. “You know how I feel about Eric Clapton. I can’t resist when he’s on.”

She almost unleashed a grin but controlled herself and moved on to Hannah, who was more than eager to get out of there. Dylan tried not to eavesdrop on their conversation, but it was impossible. Lucy somewhat reluctantly agreed to stay until he was finished painting so Hannah could have the rest of her Sunday off.

No one wanted Lucy to babysit Dylan less than he did. Things had been going so smoothly, and now he was destined to walk on eggshells the rest of the afternoon. Luckily, she slipped into her office and shut the door. Maybe this way they could each pretend the other didn’t exist.

Dylan went back to painting, ignoring the pull Lucy’s presence had on him. What was she doing here on a Sunday? Did the woman ever take a day off? Had she known he was here and come to check on him? How long was it going to take her to inform him for the millionth time that he was unwelcome and she planned to do everything in her power to win this fight?

Lucy didn’t come out or say anything to incite another argument, but sounds coming from the other side of the wall made Dylan curious. Groans of frustration. Slamming of books. Obscenities shouted, perhaps at the computer. Dylan couldn’t be sure.

Against his better judgment, he set his paint roller down and knocked on her door. “Do I need to call for help?”

The door swung open and a beautiful but frustrated Lucy had exasperation written all over her face. “You’re a lawyer.”

It was a strange statement and one Dylan wasn’t sure what to do with. “I am. Do you need a lawyer? Did you kill someone in here?” He leaned forward and took a peek inside her office for a dead body.

Her shoulders sagged. “I need to consult with someone on a case. I can’t figure out what’s going on and I’m ready to pull my hair out.”

She had pretty blond hair. The last thing he wanted was for her to yank it all out. Dylan’s fingers itched to run through it as they used to when she hadn’t been so opposed to his existence.

“You can consult with me,” he offered. He quickly questioned whether that was the answer she was looking for. He could never be sure with her. “If that’s what you need.”

Lucy stepped back and waved him into her office. Warily, he crossed the threshold. Maybe this was some sort of trick. She might be luring him in only to take him out. He pulled on the collar of his T-shirt and sat down.

“I agreed to take this divorce case, but it’s bigger than that. My client brought me all these files and said that she’s afraid her husband set her up, possibly tricked her into committing a crime. I think he might have embezzled some money from his company and made it look like it was her doing. Do you have any idea what any of this means?”

She turned her laptop around, revealing a spreadsheet. Dylan pulled the computer closer and began scrolling through the information. He was no accountant, but he had analyzed enough similar documents in white-collar cases to know that Lucy had every reason to be concerned.

“It’s called smurfing. You deposit small amounts of money into several accounts. The banks would have to report a fifty-thousand-dollar deposit but not five ten-thousand-dollar deposits. He just had to make sure he did them over a long enough period of time, since he was doing it all under her name. What else do you have that connects your client to this?”

Lucy shared the other files from the flash drive as well as hard copies of some documents, including bank statements in her client’s name. Dylan examined everything carefully and asked questions as he scanned each piece of potential evidence.

What felt like minutes turned into hours. It was as if they were transported back in time, back to when they would work on mock cases in their criminal defense class or when they spent entire days studying for the bar exam. They had always collaborated so well, balancing out one another’s strengths and weaknesses. Dylan realized it wasn’t just working with Lucy but working on something meaningful that made him feel more alive than he had in a long time.

“Look at this,” he said after scanning one of the PDFs with a list of financial transactions. “I think he’s taken more than what he put in the accounts in her name. This company comes up multiple times but it’s not on the list you showed me earlier.” He dug through some papers until he found the right one. “Brick Industries must be something he set up to funnel money into.”




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The Hardest Fight Amy Vastine
The Hardest Fight

Amy Vastine

Тип: электронная книга

Жанр: Современные любовные романы

Язык: на английском языке

Издательство: HarperCollins

Дата публикации: 16.04.2024

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О книге: There′s no backing down this time Lucy Everhart expected her opposing counsel to be a slick, soulless corporate lawyer. Who else would represent developers intent on turning Chicago′s Safe Haven women′s shelter into condos? But she never imagined it would be Dylan Hunt. Clearly, he′s no longer the idealistic young man she fell for in law school. This is Dylan 2.0. The man who let her go without a fight five years ago–along with his passion for social justice, apparently. He may have compromised what he believed in, but Lucy hasn′t. Dylan has no idea what kind of fight he′s in for. But then again, neither does she.

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