Page 16 of Husband for the Holidays

“Yes. Mom had always used a trustee to manage her fortune. Cyrus. When he retired, Antoine took over. It’s totally within Mom’s right to let him. It’s her money from her first husband.”

“None came from your father?”

“No.” A small pang of mixed feelings struck, those that reminded her she wasn’t really a Drakos, merely a product of her mother’s whimsical appreciation for a good-looking man. “My father was a professional surfer. He made enough to stay on the circuit, but he had a bohemian personality. He died when I was five. I don’t really remember him.”

“What did your mother say about Antoine cutting you off?”

“Nothing.” She got another bite of waffle into her mouth and chewed, but all her enjoyment was gone. “Given the history between us when it came to men, I didn’t want to get between her and her husband. And Antoine had a point. It had always been on Mom to support me. I’m an adult and she doesn’t owe me a penny. She had already given me four years of university and I had nothing to show for it. I accept all of that, but...”

“Surely, Ilias made arrangements for you.”

“He didn’t expect to die before he was thirty, did he?”

“That shouldn’t have happened,” Konstantin said with muted fury, looking toward the window where snow swirled beyond the glass. “I ask myself daily if I should have talked him out of taking those lessons. He always seemed so competent.”

“He was. And he had a qualified pilot with him.” Bird strikes didn’t always take down a plane, but in this case, it had. “We met with lawyers once the funeral was over, obviously, but all of that is a blur to me.”

At the mention of the funeral, Konstantin flashed his attention back to her. His delving look caused that strange pull in her belly.

She looked down at her plate, not wanting him to know how many times she’d relived their kiss. How much it had confused her and left her incapable of fully tracking what had happened those immediate days after, when they’d been trying to chart the path forward.

She rubbed her brow.

“I remember Cyrus saying there were sufficient funds for my schooling, but I don’t remember how much. Control of the Drakos fortune reverted to Mom and I’m almost certain they said I would become a cotrustee if something happened to her. At the time, she just handed everything back to Cyrus. He had managed it before Ilias was old enough to do it and when I emailedhimto say I was ready to go back to school, he took care of all my bills. I’m embarrassed to say that’s all that mattered to me at the time. Then Cyrus retired and Antoine got his tentacles in.”

“You’re still her daughter. Does she know you’re living like this? Surely, she wants you to be safe?”

“Safely married,” she said dryly. “Antoine is very persuasive. He’s got her convinced that I should marry Edoardo Ricci. You might know the banking family?”

“He’s too old for you.” His words lashed like a whip across the room.

“He’s thirty-three,” she said with a snort. “One year older than you.”

His cheek ticked, but he didn’t insisthewas too old for her.

“Do you want to marry him?” he asked gruffly instead.

“No. Otherwise, I’d be there, getting married, wouldn’t I? Not that there’s anything wrong with him.” Beyond the fact he wasn’t Konstantin. She looked into her coffee. “I think about giving in every day. I know it would ease Mom’s mind if I was settled. She would love to plan a wedding,” she said into her cup, sipping to wet her damp throat. “But I find Antoine so patronizing. He said there was no point in Mom paying for my education if I’m only going to be a wife and mother, anyway. He said I’ve been enough of a drain on her resources and it’s time that I...” She looked to the ceiling, still galled. “That Icontribute to the family fortunes in a constructive manner.”

“That implieshehas contributed to her fortune in some way. Has he?”

“I don’t know. He has money from a previous marriage, I think.” She hated the sound of Antoine’s voice so she rarely listened to it. “Anyway, I told him to get stuffed, that I was going to school and walked out. I admit I was behaving like a spoiled brat. I flew here to look for an apartment, thinking he would cool off and go back to paying my bills. I thought Mom would insist on it. I’vealwayshad an allowance.”

She massaged the tension that invaded her brow again, unable to look at him because she was so embarrassed by that sense of entitlement.

“Maybe I deserved to be brought down a peg, but as soon as I landed, he cut off my credit cards and bricked my phone. I had to sell what jewelry I had on me to pay my hotel bill. When I finally got hold of Mom, Antoine was right there saying that if I wanted to come back and continue talking about Edoardo, he would send me a plane ticket. I said no thanks and hung up. I’ve been here, living on spite, ever since.”

He didn’t laugh. “When was this?”

“April.”

“What does Lilja think you’ve been doing all this time?”

“Going to school. When I said it, I was planning to get a student loan, but it felt like too big a hole to dig myself into. I kept up the lie as an excuse for not going home. I don’t want Antoine to know he has my back against a wall.”

“And your only income is door-to-door sales?”

“It’s not—no. I serve breakfast at a trattoria on Fifth Avenue.” She’d been crying into her espresso when the server had mentioned they were looking for help. “I room with one of my coworkers. She gets the more lucrative dinner shifts, but even the tips from a coffee and croissant are good. So were the tips from the Twelve Days gig. One of the dads gave me fifty dollars the first night. I was like, dude. Pace yourself. There are eleven more deliveries to go.”So much forthatcash cow, she thought wistfully.

---