Page 23 of The Love Dose
“I’ll be fine,” I say, not bothering to mask my distaste. I find my clothes in the small closet in the corner and put on my sweater, working hard to avoid making eye contact with my legal nemesis.
Looking at her, one would never think pretty-and-petite Rachel capable of cutting off a widow’s finances but there you go. It makes my skin crawl. If Calvin’s right, I’m here in large part because of her. Maybe she was hoping I kicked the bucket and can now save all the trouble suing me.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
She frowns, then shakes her head. “Josh told me not to come.”
I ignore the comment. Neither of Bernard’s kids ever took to me. True or not, I’ve been pegged ‘the other woman’ from day one. While I can understand Rachel’s dislike, her brother Josh fashioned a monster out of me in his mind.
For some reason she’s still here. She’s asking for it.
“Why are you trying to ruin me?” I ask.
She furrows her brow. “I . . . we aren’t. We want to protect our father’s legacy.”
“Legacy, my hiney. This is about money and spite.” If I had to guess, their mother’s spite but I keep that to myself.
Rachel’s gaze shifts.
“You do realize I am still spearheading your father’s fundraiser? All the proceeds are going to his beloved charity. Is that the sign of someone who only married him for his money?”
“Yes, I heard. That’s very kind.”
I’m livid. My face is heating up. “It’s more than kind. I believe in the cause.”
I sit, feeling faint.
Rachel takes a step closer and I put up a hand, halting her.
We stare at each other.
I don’t want her to see me like this. Weak, emotional. “I loved him you know. Even if you don’t believe it.” I feel a dampness in my eyes and blink it away.
Rachel is only a couple of feet away but her eyes are now boring into me as if she’s trying to read my soul. Her face registers confusion.
“Rachel?”
We both turn to the doorway. Somehow my room has become Grand Central Station.
Rachel’s demeanor changes immediately to upbeat. “Hi, Uncle Paul. I thought you would be here before me.”
Paul gives me the eye. “I would have been had Mrs. Page told me she was in the hospital.”
Great. More drama.
“How did you find out that I’m here?” I ask him.
“I have my ways. That you didn’t tell me yourself is quite disappointing.”
I know the man and he is more hurt than anything else. Still, it would have been worse for him to get a call that I was taken unconscious to the hospital. He’s received one of those before about Bernard and that one didn’t end well.
I say, “I’m sorry.” Then, “Do you recall our earlier conversation?”
“If you mean that I’m no longer employed by you, I have not forgotten.”
“Wait, what?” Rachel is looking between us.
“What do you think will happen if you cut me off? I’ll be drowning in legal fees. I won’t be able to afford a driver.”
