Page 21 of Hush Money

“That’s right,” he says with a hint of bemusement. “And their main regular duty is doing whatever the fuck I tell them to do. And what I told them to do is to take care of you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a spoiled princess. And I don’t plan to become one.”

“Understood. But you work hard. You deserve a little pampering. I plan to do it. Get used to it.”

I don’t know why, but this conversation makes me intensely uncomfortable. It takes me a minute to piece together why. “Dad always trained me to be self-reliant. I did my own laundry. Made my own lunches for school. Did the dusting every week while he did the vacuuming. Cleaned the bathroom. I never dreamed of having anyone else do that sort of stuff for me. Dad never dreamed of it either.”

“Maybe not, but Big Ralph isn’t here anymore. I’m here. I plan to take excellent care of you, and I have the resources to do it.”

“Yeah, but?—”

Indulgent smile. “There you go with the money thing again. You’re exhausting. Let it go. Do it as a favor to me. It makes me happy to spoil you a little bit. And now that we’re not having sex, it’s the only pleasure I have left in life. Okay?”

I turn away, grinning and rolling my eyes as my cheeks heat up. “Fine. As long as you understand that I’m a very independent person. None of this extravagance comes naturally to me.”

“Understood. Right here.”

He gestures to the base of a giant tree. I take a closer look.

“Wait a minute,” I say, pointing at the sturdy wooden slats nailed up the trunk of the tree. “Is that a ladder?”

“It is.”

I glance up, and the full picture begins to take shape. “Oh my God,” I say, noting the large and perfectly camouflaged structure hidden among all the leafy branches. It’s as though the house itself was an organic growth, the same as the bark and the roots. “How did I miss this? It’s huge. This isn’t a treehouse. It’s a tree mansion. Although I don’t know what else I expected at a place like Ackerley.”

He seems pleased. “You like it?”

“Like it? Can I go up?”

“That’s why we’re here. We’re having a treehouse date.”

CHAPTER TEN

TAMSYN

I can’t scramble up the ladder fast enough and discover, way too late, that it’s a lot higher than I first thought. I’m no fan of heights, but I’m not afraid with Lucien right behind me. There’s no way I’m missing out on a treehouse like this. A flat surface eventually appears above me, and I climb through its circular opening, which reminds me of a fireman’s pole. Then I step onto the planked floor, and there it is.

Quite possibly the coolest place I’ve ever seen.

“Oh my God.” There’s no containing my girlish delight as I clap my hands and turn in a loose circle to take it all in. The hewn walls, railings and ceiling. The rugs. The fully stocked bar area with a white neon light—of course there’s electricity up here!—that says memento vivere. “What is that? Remember…something, right?”

He eyes me with new respect. “Remember to live.”

“I love that. Is it your personal motto? Does that explain why you drive fast cars, adventure travel and play polo and probably other dangerous sports that I don’t know about?”

Those dimples make another fleeting appearance. “It is and it does.”

“Hmm.” I return to my survey of my surroundings. The dark leather furniture is as masculine as Lucien himself. An old-school life preserver, ropes, lanterns, compasses, oars and other nautical decorations line the walls. There are stacks of books on sailing, gardening and architecture, plus a TV, a couple of chess sets and a mini fridge that’s not all that mini. The screens and awnings keep the sun and bugs out. The hefty telescope points out over the glittering bay, which provides a stunning view down below. Sailboats bob gently at the dock. “This is heaven. It’s like the people from HGTV came and flipped the treehouse from The Swiss Family Robinson to make it the perfect man cave. I’m surprised you ever leave.”

Lucien does one of those things where he doesn’t quite smile, but his entire face seems to glow as he looks at me. There’s so much warmth. It takes my breath away every time it happens.

“I thought you’d like it. You know The Swiss Family Robinson?”

“Know it? Dad and I used to read chapters to each other at bedtime. And we watched the old Disney movie, of course.”

“Of course.” He heads to the bar. “Champagne?”

I just sat on the sofa, but now I twist at the waist to face him. “You stock champagne in your treehouse?”

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