Page 39 of Hotshot Mogul

She’d saved the tree.

Some of the investors pulled out when I revised the plans to keep this glade intact and not construct the high-rise. Callie and Rufus proposed a plan to make this glade a nature conversancy. I put up some trust-fund money for an endowment fund to manage it in perpetuity and funded the improvements: walking trail, benches, playscapes. Then other investors wanted onboard with something next to the preserve. The condos, swanky homes, work and living loft spaces, restaurants, stores and medical offices would be finished next year.

One year had passed since Anneliese had ridden away from me, vanished on that fucking scooter. I never found her. The only thing I had left of her was that damned horseshoe.

It was hot in the sun. Sweat trickled down my spine. A faint breeze rustled the giant oak leaves. Are you here, babe? Am I losing my mind?

I came to the glade a lot. It didn’t help.

“Brucey? Damn, I mean Bruce?”

“Mom?”

Mom and Dad, holding hands as always, came toward me, grinning. “We love this place,” Mom said. “Could we get a condo here?”

I laughed as she kissed my cheek and hugged me, then wagged her finger at me. “I mean it, about the condo.” She was healthy, strong, and beautiful as ever. When she stood aside, Dad and I did the man-hug thing with just a twinge of awkwardness.

I’d joined a grief support group when Anneliese left. I’d spilled my guts—some of them—to Mom and she begged me to. Callie joined, too. She’d had a number of miscarriages that her jerk of an ex-husband didn’t help her through.

I was coming to terms with my anger at Diana, Dad, Anneliese, and myself for the shitty way I treated people, mostly women, after Diana died. A DNA test showed Beth’s son wasn’t mine. The concrete proof of that sharpened my grief and anger over Anneleise leaving. The group helped.

“What are you doing here?” Shit, that sounded douchey. “I mean, it’s great to see you. What a cool surprise.”

Mom threw back her head and laughed. Dad watched her as if the sun rose in her eyes. And for him, it did. I was okay with that, being second for both of them.

Mom stared up into the branches of the oak. “This tree is freaking amazing,” she said. “I’m so glad you didn’t cut it down.”

And cut out my own heart? “Yeah.”

A look passed between them. “Er, there’s three things,” Dad said.

Uh-oh.

“First, Maria Rosa.” Dad sat down on the bench made with a couple of the pine trees Rufus couldn’t save. Mom settled next to him. “She has an urgent message for you,” Dad said. “Second, we missed you. And third, there’s nothing like a Michigan summer.” He grinned.

He’d grown up close to the glade, although none of his family still lived there. As for Maria Rosa, she was way “out there.” But who was I kidding? If I believed half of what Anneliese said that she was, maybe I could believe whatever Maria Rosa had to say this time.

“She said…” Mom faltered.

“Out with it,” I said.

Dad grabbed her hand and pressed it over his heart. “Her words were: ‘The great tree in the glade, it holds your heart. Look close for what is true.’”

Hope of anything useful in Maria Rosa’s message vanished—like Anneliese had. My temper exploded. “What the fuck does that mean?” Shit. I scrubbed my hand over my face, as if that would erase what I just said. “I’m sorry. I just…”

Mom stood and came toward me, looking concerned. “Hey.” Callie and Rufus, carrying garbage bags and sticks to pick up litter, came toward us.

Rufus glanced at me and grinned. “Your folks, right? You’re a ringer for your dad, with your mom’s blue eyes.”

Mom stood behind me, dropped her hands to my shoulders and kissed my cheek. “He’s ours, all right.”

“I’m Rufus.”

“Callie.”

“I’m Kendall, and this is my husband, Carter.”

“Nice to meet you,” Callie said. “Enjoy the park. We heard there’s a beehive up the path. We’re going to work our way up there. Have a good day.”

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