Once and Again (24 page)

The law offices of Rebecca Teller, located in a small Victorian house very close to Yale University’s campus in New Haven, were exactly what Carolyn expected: well appointed, comfortable, and practically oozing competence. On the wall of the waiting room in the front of the house, there were Bex’s framed degrees—one from Harvard College, the other from Yale Law School. And hanging next to them were framed copies of the front covers of law journals, dozens of them. When Carolyn stepped forward to get a closer look, she could see Bex’s name on every one.

“All my articles are searchable on Westlaw or LexisNexis,” Bex said, walking up to her side. “But there’s something nice about having physical copies. Makes you feel like you’ve actually accomplished the work.”

Carolyn smiled. Today Bex was wearing a blousy blue top and a different pair of stylish jeans. It was hard to believe the woman had been a lawyer for over a decade. “They’re very impressive.”

“Eh, not really,” Bex said, giving a little shrug. “When you’re passionate about something, you just do it. Anyway, thank you for coming to New Haven today. I wanted to give you an update on my progress, but I really didn’t feel comfortable telling you everything over the phone.”

Carolyn nodded. “I didn’t have any appointments today, so I was able to take the morning off.” To tell the truth, she’d been surprised when Bex had called. The woman had been insistent that they needed to meet in person and refused to give her any substantive information on the phone. Since Carolyn believed that bad news was always best delivered in person, she did not have high hopes for this meeting.

“Please come back to my office,” Bex said. “This way.”

Carolyn followed Bex through the house, her stomach getting tighter with each step she took. “Does anyone else work here?”

“I have a secretary, but her kid’s sick so she’s home today. And I have a service for court filings and deliveries, but other than that, I’m it. Keeps costs down. Ah, here we go,” Bex said, indicating that Carolyn should go in.

Rows of legal tomes on a tall bookshelf were softened by the abstract art arranged around the room. In one corner hung a small replica of a Calder mobile and on another wall, a Jasper Johns print was prominently displayed. Bex’s work space consisted of an Eames-style chair and a glass-top desk, neatly piled with files.

“Please have a seat,” Bex said, indicating a chair in front of the desk.

“Thank you,” Carolyn responded, sinking down. Bex did the same. And then there was an agonizingly long period of silence. “You said you had something to tell me?” Carolyn prompted.

“Yes,” Bex said, pushing a thick strand of hair behind her ear. “And thank you for your patience. It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken, and I wanted to make sure I had turned over every stone I could before I dragged you in here. I’m just…I don’t know how to start this, so I’ll just start from the beginning.” She pulled a thick file from the top of the stack, opened it, and took a deep breath.

“You’re making me nervous,” Carolyn said.

“Sorry. I just want to make sure I get this right. Okay, so I took what information you were able to give me, and I got your files from Peter Yowls.” Noting Carolyn’s cringe, she nodded. “Yes, yes, I know. You were right. Yowls wasn’t actually your attorney, but I was able to get a copy of your mother’s will and a full accounting of the assets.”

Bex flipped a page in the folder and took another breath. “Your mother came from a wealthy family, did she not?”

Carolyn nodded. “She was an heiress when she married my dad.”

“I found that she inherited a huge sum of money when her great-aunt died, and another chunk when her father died. Does that sound right?”

“I guess so. I mean, I knew she and my dad were able to do a lot of investing because of her inherited wealth.”

“Inheritance was very important to her side of the family. Large sums of money were passed down from generation to generation, ensuring the wealth would stay in the family and hopefully grow.”

“Yes. So?”

“Did you ever wonder why you didn’t receive a monetary inheritance when your mother died?”

Carolyn thought back to that terrible time a year ago after Anelise’s death. “I was so wrapped up in grief, and then Worring stole all our money, and my sisters left, and—” She could keep going on. “The short answer is no.”

“Would it surprise you if I told you that your mother did leave you an inheritance? A huge one that Worring couldn’t touch?”

“The house.”

“Yes, the house. That was left for you under the terms of her will. The accounting laws in Connecticut are very clear, so that needed to be handed over immediately. But there was more.”

Carolyn frowned. “More?”

“Yes. Separate from the will, your mother also left money in trust for you and your sisters. Three separate trusts. Three separate inheritances, divided evenly for each of her daughters, which were always kept separate from the Rivington fortune she and your father amassed—and then lost to Worring’s deception.”

Carolyn could scarcely bear to hope. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you’re a very wealthy woman.”

“That can’t be true,” she gasped. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” Bex said. “Blair and Danielle are, too. Danielle will be easy to reach, but I’ll have to figure out a way to get the news to Blair.”

“Oh, my God,” she said. Then she paused. Elation turned to confusion. “How come I wasn’t told about this when Mom died?”

Bex pressed her lips together and met Carolyn’s gaze evenly. “There’s more, and I don’t know if you want to hear it, but as your attorney, I am compelled to tell you.”

“Say it,” Carolyn said. “Please. I need to know.”

“Someone hid the existence of this trust from you—the trustee himself.”

“Yowls?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Bex shook her head. “Your father.”

She didn’t believe it. She
couldn’t
believe it. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know,” Bex said. “I only know the facts: he did not give you access to your trust—indeed, didn’t even make you aware of its existence—and as the trustee of the account, he has been steadily drawing money from it. Originally, there was ten million dollars left for you.”

“How did you discover that?”

“My private investigators are very, very good. Now because the trust was opened when you were a minor, you did not have access to it, but the terms of the trust were that any portion of the money should go toward your education, and once your education was complete, whatever was left over when you turned twenty-five should have been given to you. Unfortunately, that never happened, and I don’t know why. But the money is yours—what’s left of it, anyway.”

She was afraid to ask, but she needed to know. “How much?”

“Just over four million.”

Four million dollars. “So much,” she whispered.

“Like I said, it should have been ten, plus interest. And as far as I can tell, your father also siphoned money from your sisters’ accounts. I filed a petition with the court to remove him as trustee of your account and have demanded a full financial accounting. That petition was granted. When all of this is over, I could file a civil suit against your father for breach of fiduciary duty.”

Even as tears pricked the corners of her eyes, Carolyn shook her head. “God, no. I just want to move on. Put this behind me.” She couldn’t contemplate the idea that she’d been betrayed by her own father, in the worst possible way.

Bex nodded. “I’ll abide by your wishes, of course, but if you change your mind, just say the word.”

“I don’t know what my sisters will want to do. I—I guess I’ll have to tell them.”

“They’ll need their own lawyers, too,” Bex said. “Just let me know how I can help.”

Yes.
It would be a relief to have Bex by her side when she broke the news. But for now, she just needed to process this for herself. “So what do I do to access this money?”

“In the petition to remove your father as the trustee, I also asked that the money left in the trust be given to you immediately,” Bex said. “The court granted that as well. And I must say that you’re under no obligation to use the money to deal with your family’s debts. Unless you want to, that is.”

Carolyn shook her head in disbelief, still hardly believing this was real.

“There’s one more thing,” Bex said.

Carolyn put her hand over her heart. “I don’t know how much more I can take.”

“You can take this,” Bex said. “I promise. Your mother left something else for you when she died.”

Carolyn’s mouth was dry. “What?”

“This,” Bex said, holding up a key. “I got it from John Ross, an attorney for the Bellamie family. Here,” she said, handing it to Carolyn. “It’s yours.”

The key was cool in her hand. “It looks like a safe deposit box key.”

“It is. And before you ask, no, I have no idea what’s in the box. All I know is that the box was leased in two names, and yours was one of them.” She slid a piece of paper across the table to Carolyn. “Here’s the name and address of the bank where the trust funds are held. You’ll find the safe deposit box there, too. All you need are two pieces of identification and the key, and you’ll have access to everything.”

Carolyn glanced down at the slip of paper. The address was in West Hartford, a forty-five-minute drive away. “I—I remember this bank. I must have gone there with my mother when I was maybe eight years old. She told me the safe deposit box was our secret. I must have forgotten.”

“That’s why you hired me, remember?” Bex said gently. “To help you through all of this.”

“I’m dreaming,” Carolyn said.

“You’re wide awake,” Bex told her. “And I’m free. Why don’t you and I go up there together with the documents, and get you your inheritance?”

“Yes. Yes, please. Bex, you’re amazing. I’ll never be able to thank you enough,” Carolyn said, shaking her head. “And now may not be the best time and honestly, I’m almost afraid to ask, but how much do I owe you?”

“The work was my pleasure. Uncovering a long-held family secret was the most fun I’ve had in a while. My work isn’t this juicy most of the time, so I’ve decided to simply charge you my hourly rate.” Bex smiled. “I’m expensive, but I think you’ll find my fees quite reasonable now that you’re a multi-millionaire. But,” she added, “if you’re feeling generous, you can buy me lunch after we visit the bank.”

Wetness pricked at the corners of her eyes again, but Carolyn smiled through her tears. “That sounds like a deal to me.”

An hour and a half later, Carolyn emerged from The Bank of Hartford, with Bex at her side. The whole world was a blur—everything from the cars going by, to the clouds high above the tall buildings of downtown Hartford, to the people walking past on the streets.

“So,” Bex said. “How does it feel to be rich again?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t know. I can’t feel anything.” She wasn’t lying; she felt numb. All the agony and uncertainty of the past year, erased in one single moment when she signed the papers identifying her as one Carolyn Bellamie Rivington. She was rich. And that meant she was free.

Bex hitched her shoulder bag up higher. “Well, I think you were right to leave the money for the time being, but I’m glad you took the jewelry to be appraised. And the letters you can read in private when everything has calmed down.”

“I’m going to buy my grandmother’s jewels back,” Carolyn said abruptly.

“Sure. Do that if they mean something to you.”

“They do.” Especially the pearls. But she’d never dreamed that what she’d had in her possession was a mere fraction of what her mother actually owned. In the safe deposit box had been an immense collection of precious gems, with instructions that they were to be divided among her, Blair, and Danielle. There was also a packet of letters wrapped in a lilac ribbon, which she couldn’t bear to look at in the cold, thin-walled room they’d left her in while she examined the contents of the box. “And first chance I get, I’m going to confront my dad about why he didn’t tell me about this money.” She prayed that there was a good explanation.

“First things first,” Bex said, taking her by the elbow and steering her out of the way of a school group coming pell-mell down the sidewalk. “You promised me lunch.”

“I did. Where would you suggest?”

“A nice slice of pizza sounds tasty,” Bex said.

“New Haven’s pizza is much better than Hartford’s.”

“True, true. Well, there’s always Max Downtown.”

“Isn’t that super fancy?”

“Sure, but you’re certainly entitled to it.” Bex gave her a meaningful look.

“Do
you
want someplace super fancy?” Carolyn asked.

Bex shook her head. “Nah.”

“Pick something else, then.”

“There’s a good sandwich shop a few blocks away. I like to go there after court appearances sometimes.”

“Now
that
sounds just my speed.”

Bex settled back on her heels. “I know you’re my client, and you’ve been through a lot over the past year, but honestly, I just don’t know what to make of you.”

“Few people do,” Carolyn said, giving her a wry smile. Then she took a deep breath. “But that’s okay. Now let’s go eat lunch because afterward, I’m driving straight to that consignment shop to get Grandma’s jewelry back.”

And then she was going to figure out what she was going to do with the rest of her life.

“Richard?” Jake said. He knocked on the general manager’s office door once again. “You in there?” Jake had nothing but good news to report. They’d been able to pull together a great crew for the construction, the schedule was finalized, and he wanted to walk Richard through the details so he’d know what to expect over the next few months.

“A minute, if you please,” Richard’s muffled voice called from within.

Odd.
Richard’s door was rarely closed—to him, anyway. But Jake leaned against the wall and waited. A moment later, to his great surprise, Carolyn came out, her eyes red. Instead of saying anything, she simply pressed her lips together and walked away fast. He was about to go after her, but a hand on his arm restrained him.

“Let her go,” the man said gently.

Jake gave Richard an accusing look. “What the hell happened?”

“Why don’t you step inside?” Richard said, indicating he should enter.

As soon as Richard shut the door, Jake turned on him.

“What did you say to her?”

“It’s not what I said to her, but what she said to me.” Richard took off his glasses and carefully wiped them with a soft cloth he pulled from his pocket. Slowly, deliberately, he put them back on. “Carolyn has recently come into some money.”

“How much money?”

“It’s not my place to say. Still, it’s enough to live more than comfortably on for a good, long time. She came to tell me because she’s thinking about a change.”

“What kind of a change?” he said slowly.

Richard leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. “She’s considering leaving Briarwood.”

“What is she going to do?” His voice came out clipped and tight.

Richard shrugged. “She doesn’t know. But she came to me to talk through her options. Look, I can’t say this comes as any surprise. I knew it wouldn’t be easy for her, taking this job to begin with. But now that she doesn’t actually have to work…” He trailed off.

A million thoughts ran through Jake’s head—first and foremost, why she hadn’t told him. Over the last few weeks, they’d been closer than ever, and honestly, this felt like a betrayal.

Richard cleared his throat. “I know you two are involved. And to be frank, it’s none of my business. You’re both adults, and it didn’t affect the way you were running the place or the way she was doing her job. But now I’m potentially losing one of my best employees, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s personal.”

“You think this is because of me?” he said flatly.

“I don’t know,” Richard said. “But I do know that she’s conflicted. I’ve never seen her so upset. I’d give her some space. Wait until she’s ready.”

Jake set his jaw, flung the door open, and stalked out of the room, fury streaking through him. Carolyn was leaving Briarwood. Because of him. Even after everything they’d been through together.

He didn’t know how he got there, but all at once he realized he was on the golf course, the same place he always used to go to clear his head and calm down. Except he wasn’t calming down and his head sure as hell wasn’t clear. That gray sky above mirrored his mood. It would rain, and soon. He could smell it in the air. There weren’t any duffers out on the ninth hole, and in the distance, a couple of diggers from Walter Williams’s crew sat dormant around the tenth hole—the last thing he wanted to think about right now.

He realized too late that rain was imminent. He was about to turn back to the clubhouse, but a minute later, the rain began, first as a sprinkle, then a torrent, pelting his head and neck with chilly drops. He pulled up the collar of his leather jacket and made a beeline for the ancient gazebo in the clearing between the seventh and eighth holes, a vestige from when this property was a private estate back in the early 1900s.

He raced up the steps of the gazebo, only to find that he wasn’t alone.

Carolyn was there, her hair dampened from the spring shower, shivering a little, her silk blouse clinging to her like a second skin. She trained her violet eyes on him, and her gentle vulnerability nearly blew him away. Then she lowered her eyes.
Guilty.

“When were you going to tell me?” he demanded.

“I just found out, and I’m still trying to process it myself. You have to understand, Jake. I took this job because I needed to, not because I wanted to. And now I have to determine if it’s what I really want.”

“Is it because of me? Because from where I’m standing, this looks an awful lot like a repeat of fifteen years ago when you just walked away and didn’t look back. Is that what you’re going to do?”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” She turned her face to look out over the rainy green. “Fifteen years ago,
you
got to walk away, too. Start fresh. I didn’t. I was stuck living the life I was born into, and now I’m playing another role—a role that doesn’t fit the way it should.”

“It fits, Caro.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “When you first bought Briarwood, even
you
told me you needed me because of who I was, and what I stood for. Because I looked like a ‘lady who lunched.’ Well, guess what? That’s
exactly
what I was.” She turned to face him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I don’t need to do that anymore. I can start again. Reinvent myself without the past coloring the present. Isn’t that exactly what you did when you left Eastbridge?”

“That was different.”

“How?” she challenged.

“People want you here.”

“The clients?” She laughed. “That’ll change soon, Jake. The old members will thin out and there’ll be new members coming in. They won’t care about having someone like me plan their events.”

“The staff wants you here.”

“They’ll get over it.”

“
I
want you here.”

“No—please. Don’t do this. Not when I’m so confused already. I need some space away from Briarwood. And from you, to see whether it’s me you love or the idea of me. Maybe I’m just part of the dream.”

“Is that what you really think?” he asked, his voice tight.

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I thought I knew who I was. That I’d moved on, but then I get this news, and I’m not sure about anything anymore.”

Including him.
He’d been an ass to think that they could overcome their pasts so easily, that they could change the people they’d become over the past fifteen years. It looked like he was wrong. He crossed his arms over his chest, pushing back against the ache that had begun to form. “So you’re just going to go?”

“I—I’m not sure. Something’s changed in me. Something I don’t know how to handle. I spent my whole life with money, and honestly, I had no idea who I was. Then I lost it, and it called into question everything I thought about myself. And now that I have it again, I realize I
still
don’t know. I just need some time to figure it out.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“Maybe travel. Get away for a while. Figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

She wasn’t joking. She was really serious about leaving, and with perfect clarity he realized that the rest of her life did not include him. She’d been biding her time at Briarwood while she figured out her financial situation—he got that, but she’d lumped him in with it, too. He was just a diversion while she put her life back together, and now that she was rich again, well, there was no place for him.

He thought about everything they’d shared over the past month—and not just their bodies, but their hopes and dreams. Their plans for the future he thought they’d be spending together. He’d even gone to see his dad because she asked him to.

It hadn’t meant anything to her.

But it had for him. Somewhere along the line he’d fallen in love with her. And wasn’t that just too fucking bad. Because she didn’t love him back. Briarwood was only ever a means to an end. And so was he.

The rain pelting the roof of the gazebo was almost deafening, and in the distance, a crack of lightning split the sky, followed only a few seconds later by a roll of thunder. She was standing there, twisting her small hands, looking up at him with that lovely face, just eviscerating him with her beauty.

God,
it hurt, but he’d never show how much. Because he wasn’t a poor, grubby townie anymore. He had money and power of his own.

Treat it like the business deal it always was, Jake.

He steeled himself. “I’ll sign off on your resignation this afternoon, Carolyn,” he told her. “Goodbye. And good luck finding what you’re looking for.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but he’d already turned away. He sprinted back to the clubhouse, getting soaked to the bone. And then he realized how much he welcomed the cold seeping in, chilling him from the inside out, turning his heart back to stone.

So instead of running, or even walking, he stopped and sank to his knees. Rain lashing his body, he slowly lay down on the cold, wet grass and let himself be enveloped by the storm.

“I wonder when this rain is going to stop,” Carolyn said, looking out Jane’s apartment window—the one that overlooked the parking lot. Fat drops splattered all over the asphalt, pattering on cars and trash cans and umbrellas held by people hurrying about their business. She sighed. The past week away from Briarwood had seemed interminable, and not simply because she wasn’t working. She was bored, and the one thing she really should be doing—some serious introspection—was the last thing she wanted to contemplate. Because that would mean she’d have to think. About Jake. About Briarwood. About her father. And of course, about her future.

“They say it’ll keep going through Tuesday,” Jane said. “Then sunny days.”

Maybe that would brighten her mood. Carolyn tore her gaze away from the rain and opened one of Jane’s kitchen cabinets and pulled out a mug. “These?” she asked.

From her cross-legged position on the floor, Jane nodded. “Yes, please. I have more newspaper if you need it.”

“I’m okay for now,” Carolyn said, taking a fresh sheet. She wrapped the mug, then carefully placed it in the bottom of a cardboard box.

“Thanks again for helping me pack,” Jane said. “I can’t believe we signed the lease for the Thurlows’ cottage so fast and that we only have a couple of weeks left here. It’s amazing how much stuff I managed to jam into this tiny place. I’ve already been working for days.” She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “Anyway, Andy was dying to see that new Disney movie, so I let him and my mom take a break.”

“It’s nothing,” Carolyn said. “I’m glad to help out.” Especially since she had nothing else to do except figure out the rest of her life. Technically, she hadn’t resigned from Briarwood, and was simply taking paid time off—at least that’s what Richard had induced her to accept. She’d thought about giving him her resignation—she really had—but something had held her back.

“So how’s your vacation going?” Jane asked. “Made any decisions?”

Carolyn pulled another mug from the cupboard. “It’s not really a vacation. More like a forced sabbatical. And no, I haven’t made any decisions yet.” About anything.

“Still thinking about leaving Briarwood?”

“Yes,” she said. “Maybe. I don’t know. Being away hasn’t helped clear my head. I don’t know if it’s because it hasn’t been enough time and distance or if it’s just not going to clear.”

“Hmm,” Jane said. She tucked a wrapped plate into the box.

“What?”

“Well, I got the impression you were really good at your job and that people love you there. I saw it when I was working with Susumo.”

What Jane was saying was true. Briarwood was her family—a sometimes dysfunctional family, but a family nonetheless. She’d found a depth to her friendships and relationships that she never could have anticipated when she started. She trusted her colleagues. Even loved them, on some level. “So what are you saying? That I should stay?”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do. You have to figure that out on your own.” Jane shifted to kneeling and sat back on her heels. “See that little guy over there?” she said, pointing to a photograph of Andy on the fridge. “Everything I do, I do for him. Who do you do things for?”

“My dad.” A wave of sadness hit her when she thought about him. “At least, I used to.” She’d left multiple messages on his cellphone over the last week. Even tracked down Jonah’s cell and left a message. So far, she hadn’t gotten any response.

“Well, I think you should start doing things for yourself for a while,” Jane said briskly. “See how that feels.”

“Maybe. But I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start by figuring out why you started working at Briarwood in the first place. You’re a bright woman. You could have chosen to work anywhere.”

Carolyn shook her head. “Not many places would take me.”

“How many places did you try?”

“Just one.”

“There,” said Jane, a smile on her face. “You wanted to be at Briarwood, even if you didn’t want to admit it.”

So she had. At first she’d told herself it was just to pay the bills, but it had turned into so much more. Briarwood was a place where she earned her own way, took pride in her efforts, and gained a sense of self. A purpose, where before she had none. It was more than penance for all that wasted time and all that selfish behavior. It was salvation.

“You’re right,” she told Jane. “I wanted to be there.” Because she knew she’d be safe there while she took the next steps in her life. Problem was, she’d been running on fumes for a year now, trying so hard to pick up the pieces of her former life that she hadn’t quite figured out who she actually was. Now things had changed. Once she’d found out she had money again, she’d discovered that her old skin didn’t fit anymore, but neither did the new, and everything she thought was true seemed muddled. She couldn’t go back to her old life. Somehow, it just seemed
wasteful
. Yet this new life didn’t make sense, either.

Or did it?

Every time she thought about this very issue, Jake’s face appeared before her eyes. She thought he’d be furious when she told him she needed space, but instead he’d just looked devastated. Then the new Jake was back. Cool, collected, and hard as nails. But she was wearing a mask, too. This morning, she’d looked in the mirror after washing her face, and a stranger looked back at her.