Chapter 22
A
s Kit stood there, half wrapped around Morgan, trying to process what was happening, she knew she’d been right about one thing: The bigger picture had definitely happened when she’d least suspected it.
She supposed it could have been worse. Olivia could have shown up thirty minutes later . . . and caught them naked and in bed. Of course, if she’d knocked first, Kit could have at least hidden in the closet. Or something.
Looking at Olivia Westlake, Kit doubted she was the knock-first type. Clearly, she wasn’t the call-first type, as Morgan was obviously as surprised as Kit to see her on his doorstep.
Deep end of the pool,
she thought,
I’m back!
Morgan carefully shifted Kit to his side and slid his arm around her waist. Whether to bolster her or himself, she wasn’t sure.
“Hello, Mother. I’m sorry to have missed your call letting me know you were planning to visit.”
“Let’s not play coy, dear, shall we?” Olivia smoothed a hand over her sleek hairdo, the color as shiny and dark as her son’s.
And what a marvelous feat of perfectly teased, styled, and executed engineering it was, too. In fact, Kit couldn’t have said if Olivia Westlake was forty or sixty. She either had the most amazing genetics ever or had been assisted in her youthful appearance at the hands of exceedingly skilled surgeons. Her makeup was expertly applied and, from her calf-length, black cashmere coat to her hand-tooled leather purse and boots, her couture shouted expensive, tailor made, and sporting only the most exclusive labels. She was imposing on the scale of Cruella DeVille—only less friendly.
“We both know you wouldn’t have taken my calls,” Olivia went on to say, “so I didn’t bother.”
“Why have you come?” Morgan asked. “And where is your car . . . and driver?”
“I’ve sent Thomas back to Savannah. There was an issue with our rooms and he’s gone to straighten that out.”
“Rooms?”
Her smile could only be called such because the corners of her mouth inched slightly northward. “You certainly didn’t think I’d be staying here.” She gave his cottage a dismissive glance, indicating she’d likely need a thorough cleansing just for standing so close to it.
“No,” Morgan agreed. “I certainly didn’t think that. Why have you come? I told you Lilly and I would visit—”
“I’ve come because my patience with this little . . . escapade of yours has finally worn thin.”
“Mother, I believe you know me well enough by now to realize that when I decide to relocate, I generally don’t return. You know full well that I intend to stay here, raise Lilly so she’ll have the benefit of being close to both sides of her family.”
“Yes, yes, point taken. We’ve exhausted this topic many times over,” she said, waving a weary, heavily-ringed hand. “However, the holidays are upon us, and surely you don’t mean to exclude Lilly from her rightful place with her family during the upcoming festivities. Coraline told me you wouldn’t be returning for Thanksgiving, but we’ve not received a single word of your plans for Christmas. There is much planning being done, and so I’ve come to make certain we’re all in concert with one another, and that you’ll be present. We’ve got your rooms ready and expect to see you no later than the twenty-first, preferably by the nineteenth.”
Kit noted Olivia hadn’t once asked about Lilly or even wondered where she might be, since she clearly wasn’t with the two of them. Morgan had explained how his family was more about business than sentiment, and to her it had seemed as if they followed the
better seen and not heard
edict when it came to child rearing, but until that moment, Kit had never comprehended what he had really been trying to describe.
“Now, am I to be kept out here on the stoop like some poor relative, or shall we go inside and finish getting our calendars in order?”
“I can save you the trouble,” Morgan said. “We aren’t planning to travel back to Atlanta for the time being. Perhaps after the new year, or during spring break.”
“Spring . . . break? Whatever in the world is that?”
“It’s the seasonal vacation for kids in school.”
“Not in any reputable school I know of. And you wonder why we choose private education. Surely you don’t mean to enroll a Westlake in public . . . oh my—” She broke off, then pulled a small hankie from her bag and pressed it to her cheek, then her other cheek. “I’m becoming quite taxed, Morgan. I really should sit a spell.”
“You could have rebuilt Rome in three days with one hand tied behind your back,” Morgan said. “I think you’ll manage.”
At any other time, Kit would have been shocked that Morgan would speak like that to his own mother. But, after less than ten minutes of exposure, Kit had to keep from doing a little fist pump in solidarity.
“Unless Thomas is close to returning, I’ll call you a cab to take you back to Savannah. Or all the way to Atlanta.”
Apparently realizing she wasn’t going to have the upper hand, even with witnesses, Olivia changed tactics. “Surely you don’t mean to deprive me of some time spent with my darling granddaughter. I’ve come all this way.”
“And, until this moment, you haven’t so much as asked how she’s doing. I must have missed all those calls from you as well, these past few months. I know Lilly has.”
If Morgan’s pointed reply so much as dinged Olivia’s armor, she didn’t let it show.
“You know what it’s like this time of year, the chaos, the madness of organization, not to mention all the end-of-year business to be taken care of. And this year, in particular, what with dealing with the horrible tragedy we’ve suffered. It’s been beyond brutal. But I’ve shouldered it, with no help from you, of course. The very last thing I’d do is visit any of that on the poor child. I’ve kept my distance and handled what needed handling. I’m sure she understands.”
“She’s five years old. I’m not sure she grasps the tricky nuances of managing a business and a household during trying times. She only understands actions and how people treat her.”
“Well, she will certainly understand one day, as it is her birthright I’m working so hard to safeguard.”
Kit thought she might have felt Morgan actually shudder at that. Or maybe it had been her.
Just then a sleek town car slowly tooled past the front of the house and quietly eased to the curb, the purring engine barely making a rumble.
“Ah, good. Your ride is here,” Morgan said.
“And my visit with my granddaughter?”
“Her name is Lilly. And she has other plans today.”
“Surely nothing as important as the chance to spend time with her grandmother.”
Morgan smiled. “Surely not, as that is exactly what she’s doing.”
It took a moment, but his meaning registered. Even someone as cold and seemingly unfeeling as Olivia had a visceral response to the knowledge that her flesh and blood was enjoying time with the Other Grandmother, the shunned one, the one who didn’t measure up to Westlake standards.
Yes, how that must rankle,
Kit thought.
Olivia’s expression went from rigid to downright glacial. “I see.” She stepped down from the porch and walked toward the two of them still standing in the driveway, in front of Morgan’s SUV.
Kit had to work not to shrink back behind Morgan as the woman neared.
She stopped just in front of them. “I’ll assume, since you couldn’t bother to make introductions, that this isn’t someone of any importance to you or that you’ve forgotten her name altogether.” Olivia didn’t so much as flicker a glance at Kit. “Please be advised, however, if this is how you’re going to conduct yourself, perhaps I’ll have our lawyers revisit that agreement Asher regrettably made with you regarding my granddaughter’s care. I’ll hardly allow her to be subject to a string of questionable women parading in and out.”
Morgan slipped his hand in Kit’s and held on firmly. “Mother, this is Kit Bellamy. I didn’t introduce you, because, frankly, given this exchange, I’m embarrassed.”
“Well, I should think so.” Then Olivia seemed to gather his meaning and looked downright horrified. “Embarrassed? By
me
?” She all but spit that last word out.
She paused and looked directly at Kit. “Wait. Surely, you’re not related to the Bellamy family who—”
“Who your exceedingly wealthy law firm helped my equally wealthy brother-in-law dismantle and destroy a generations-old family business and decimate countless lives? Entirely aided by a whole lot of billable hours put in by the smug, arrogant lawyers you employ? Yes, that would be me,” Kit said, the words spilling out before she’d realized she was going to say them.
Olivia swung her astonished gaze back to Morgan, instantly dismissing Kit as apparently unworthy of a response. “Did you know this? Know of her connection to Atlanta? Surely not, or you would never have taken up with her.” She turned back to Kit then. “If you’ve followed him out here to seek revenge for what was purely the fault of your own gross negligence and seduce your way into this family and his trust fund, the way your sister did with the Carruthers family, then—”
Morgan stepped between the two women, his face mere inches from his mother’s. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but with a steel edge that made even Kit shiver. “You’re going to want to be very, very careful about the words you choose to use right now.”
“Are you—are you actually threatening me?” Olivia asked. “Has she gotten you wound that tightly around her—”
“She is not after my fortune. Hell,
I’m
not after my fortune. You know better than anyone, I’ve never touched a dime of it. As for Kit, I had to persuade her to give me the time of day. Trust me, being a Westlake was no selling tool.”
Olivia’s expression made it clear she couldn’t comprehend such a thing. “Then she’s an even bigger fool than I thought. As are you, if you think—”
“I don’t think anything,” Morgan said quite calmly. “What I know, however, is that I love her. Very much. And if I’m fortunate enough to convince her to marry me, she’ll make me—and Lilly—the happiest people on earth. I can only hope you haven’t destroyed any chance I might have had.”
“If you think I’m going to allow this . . . woman,” she spit out, “to raise my grand—”
Morgan dropped Kit’s hand and slid his other arm neatly through his mother’s, then march-stepped her straight down the driveway toward her waiting town car.
“What on earth—why I never! Unhand me this moment! How dare you—”
“No,” Morgan said quite heatedly as Thomas leaped from the car and scrambled to open the rear passenger door, looking uncertain as to what to do about this unexpected scene.
Kit was still standing, frozen, on the driveway, trying to process what Morgan had just said. He loved her? Wanted to marry her? Had that been grandstanding, for shock value?
Morgan’s words—or more the steel tone of them—drew her attention back curbside. “I want you to be part of Lilly’s life and she yours. But if you ever decide to drop by unannounced, again, issuing orders and expecting command performances, I will find it very hard to think it’s a good idea to expose her to you. If you ever speak to Kit again in that manner, I will assume you don’t want a relationship of any sort, with any of us.”
“Are you . . . blackmailing me? Thomas, are you hearing this? He’s my witness,” she told Morgan. “How dare you—”
“No,” Morgan repeated, leaning in closer.
Kit and Thomas had to strain to hear.
“How dare
you
. How . . . dare . . . you. You may rule your world, but you don’t rule mine. You don’t rule Lilly’s. And you most assuredly will never have a hand again in Kit’s. I will say this one more time. I want you and Lilly to have a relationship. Hell, I’ll be happy if you learn to call her by her first name. For the time being, however, we’re going to focus on our lives here, without any interference or assistance from you. So . . . please consider this my RSVP to your invitation. I’m afraid we won’t be able to attend.”
Then Morgan seemed to find some semblance of calm and stepped back, handing the care of Olivia to Thomas, who took her arm.
“But I sincerely hope we can find a way to share some time together, just us. Just family. No social events, no obligations, no guests, no company circus. Just a meal, some conversation, and quality family time. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. If you decide this is something you also want, then please call me. Call us. We’d very much enjoy that.”
Olivia opened her mouth, then shut it again, apparently unable to decide if it was some other form of attack . . . or if he could possibly be as sincere and honest as he sounded.
“I’m sorry,” Morgan said. “About today. I wish it wasn’t like this. I wish we weren’t like this. I just don’t know how else to handle it. If it were only me, I’d simply walk away. But now I have family of my own, and as long as you force me to take a stand, that’s what I’ll do. I hate that it’s come to this. Especially when it seems so easy, so simple, for it to be so much better.”
Kit watched raptly as Olivia took in Morgan’s heartfelt words. For a split second, Kit thought Olivia wavered, thought she saw true understanding, even a desire to reach out to her son as he’d asked her to. Family member to family member. Mother . . . to son.