Page 130 of With A Little Luck
I frown.
Motherfucker.
I haven’t even had time to warn her about that yet, but Easton lives to stir up shit.
I tease my hand over Quincy’s hip from behind as she steps back after shaking. “We should go. Calder is waiting for us.”
“It was nice to meet you.” Quincy gives a little wave. “This is so weird, but when I first caught sight of you, you reminded me so much of Trigg. It’s uncanny.”
Easton rocks back on his heels, glancing between me and Quincy. “Yes, well, I needed to see who caught my half brother’s eye. Not many around here know that tidbit of information. I would appreciate it if you kept it to yourself until I’ve had the chance to inform everyone.” He must have assumed one of us let the cat out of the bag, but I figured that was Trigg’s conversation to have.
Also, thank God I kept my mouth shut. If I had told Quincy, and she outed me, Easton would never have trusted me again.
“I won’t say anything,” Quincy says softly. “I’m a little surprised Trigg didn’t mention it?—”
“We didn’t meet until well into adulthood, and I have two brothers and a sister that I should warn before I share that news with the office,” Easton says. “Welcome to the family, Quincy.”
With that, he does an about-face and saunters down the hallway.
I peek at Quincy over her shoulder.
“You can barely tell they’re related. Am I right?” I laugh to show I’m only joking. “Come on. We have an appointment to keep.”
Chapter Forty
Quincy
I’m going to strangle Ridge…once he’s healed and when it won’t actually hurt him, but holy shit, he’s on my last nerve.
No one should ever surprise anyone with bringing them into their place of employment to sign survivor benefit forms.
That’s the kind of thing someone should be warned about. Then have some time to mentally process before being tossed into the deep end.
Someone—who is not me—should also have a serious conversation with Ridge about how not to be taken advantage of in the future.
Honestly, he’s a very sweet man.
But he should have demanded proof of paternity before signing any of this stuff over to me.
The tech guy, Calder, has big black framed glasses and an easy smile as he walks us through everything. “Okay, last one. This is just for you, Ridge. It’s your life insurance?—”
“The one outside of the survivor benefit package if I die on the job?” Ridge asks, like that thought is no big deal.
“Yeah, we already handled that one. This is the extra coverage you picked up. We’re swapping it out from going one-hundred percent to your mom to being split fifty-fifty between her and Quincy.”
My hands wrap around the arms of the chair to keep from popping up and yelling that Ridgequits.
The notary guy catches my gaze and offers a polite smile, but I’m about to beat Ridge to death with my ballet flat.
What in the hell is he thinking?
First of all, he needs to see paternity results, just so I’ll always feel confident that he knows the truth.
Second of all, who the fuck is okay with working a job that’s so dangerous the company gives your family a million-dollar severance package—survivor benefits—whatever, if you die while on a mission?
This is insanity.
My eyes ache from the thought of something happening to him.
