Page 56 of The Bitter Heir and the Beauty

Her eyebrows lift with a smile. “I prefer to think of it as an interview.”

“In that case, no comment.”

She inclines her head and leans close. “But you’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

“In separate sections of the house.”

She adds, “He buys you beignet buns.”

“He also got biscuits for Frodo.”

Molly jots something down, then says, “But I see the way you look at him.”

The corner of my lip twitches. She’s not entirely wrong about that.

Late in the afternoon, after picking Leonie up from Lexi’s house, I return to the chateau to find Maddock loading the bed of his truck with boxes.

I haven’t quite accepted that he’s going to let us live here. Nor do I like the way the idea of him leaving makes me feel.

Least of all, I’m not a fan of how it’s making me feel: like a raccoon that found the snack drawer, gobbled up its contents, and has been hopped up on espresso beans all day.

Oh wait, that’s me.

Maddock stops at the foot of the stairs that lead to the kitchen as I mount them, Leonie in my arms. She waves hers, eager for him to hold her. He sets down the box and the two exchange a sickeningly adorable greeting. She pats his cheeks, and he nuzzles her, eliciting a peel of laughter. Then she kind of bites his nose and he laughs. It probably tickles. Raspberries blown on her belly come next, which results in a fit of giggles. They both make nonsensical happy noises.

While they’re occupied, I peek in the box Maddock set on the ground. It contains a Corning Ware bowl, a few Pyrex baking dishes, a citrus juicer, and some other stuff—mostly kitchen items neither my mother nor scavengers thought were valuable. But they’re vintage and well-made.

“What are you doing with all this?”

Without interrupting his motorboat lips while Leonie claps his ears and laughs with glee, Maddock says, “Clearing out odds and ends. Figured I could donate it on my way out of town tomorrow.”

“No! You can’t get rid of this.” I pick up the box.

“It’s junk.”

“No, it’s treasure.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in that.”

“I don’t. It’s just that this is part of history. If you intend to restore the Tickle Chateau, it has to contain original items.”

“It’s not going to be a museum. We’re going to live here.”

I stagger backward. “We?”

He looks slightly sheepish. “I mean, yeah. For now. If you want.”

I’ve gotten the sense that Maddock wants to help me out like I’m some pity-charity-single mom case. But I’ve gotten this far on my own. I can do it without being a tax write-off.

He adds, “No pressure.”

But that’s just what I’ve felt. So much pressure from every direction: the past with my mother, the present with the restaurant and taking care of Leonie, and the looming future with wanting to do everything I can so her life doesn’t turn out like mine.

My thoughts turn foggy and I get dizzy. My knees suddenly feel like they’re going to buckle. I reach for the handrail but miss as my vision blurs. A steady hand lands on mine as my thoughts fade and my surroundings turn spotty.

“Honey. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Like an octopus, Maddock somehow manages to take the box from my hands while holding onto Leonie and me.

I struggle to return to full consciousness, knowing I need to take care of her.

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