Quiet Angel (11 page)

“I don’t want to hear this.”

“I kissed him back. It wasn’t just a peck.”

“Jesus,” he said softly.

“When I pulled back, I started to cry. I wanted it to be my husband kissing me like that.” Emerson twirled her wedding ring. “It never went any further, but that was too far. I went home and told him everything.”

“He must have gone ballistic.”

“He did. The funny thing is, he thought we were happy, that I was happy.” She patted her eyes. “I realized I’d rather be with him than anyone else. But he couldn’t get past it.”

Emerson tossed the tissue in the trash and pushed out a little smile. Gage always admired how his sister could pick herself up after a few moments of grief, put it in a box, and move forward. He, however, could pine over a woman for a decade and then act like a bastard and make things worse. He was going to have to settle things with Layla.

“I’m totally the wrong person to be giving advice,” she said, “but this thing between you and Layla—whatever it is, whatever it may be—you don’t want to lose it.”

“Look, it was 12 years ago. It’s over.”

“I didn’t get that sense from her,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. “And I don’t from you, either. I can see your head spinning.”

“What am I supposed to do now? What am I supposed to say to her?”

“First thing is you need to get your head out of your ass, or she’s going to disappear out of your life again.”

“She’s the one who left before!”

“Maybe it wasn’t that simple. Women can be complicated. Maybe you should get over what happened. You know, you leave people, too! Always tossing women aside when things get serious. So don’t be stupid now that you may have a chance again with this woman.”

Gage gave his sister a hug. “Did Layla really fly all the way to Atlanta to deliver the bundles?”

Emerson nodded her head. “She has a connecting flight to Houston that leaves in a few hours. Her father’s will reading is later today. Or maybe she had another reason for bringing them personally?”

Gage raised an eyebrow then reached across his sister’s desk. He dialed his secretary. “Mary, I need you to get me on the next flight to Houston.” He looked over at his sister smiling at him. “Sold out? How about the next one?” He looked at his watch and blew out a deep breath. “Sold out, too?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Then get the corporate jet ready. I need to leave in an hour. Please cancel that political lunch and clear the rest of my day.”

Layla headed out
her hotel room—drained from the flight, from the layover in Atlanta, from Gage snapping at her. It obviously meant nothing that he visited her bookstore. He was probably just trying to torture her. She obviously meant nothing to him anymore. He obviously had no intention of forgiving her.

She got to the lobby, feeling more and more tired, the impending doom coming closer. She told herself to buck up, that she’d survived her family before. But she couldn’t help but worry about what could happen at the will reading, and about coming back alone to a lonely hotel room until her morning flight home. The quiet moments could often be the worst.

Layla started towards a cab then stopped in her tracks, finding Gage coming straight for her. She stood up straight, her stomach dropping, and braced herself for whatever he was doing here. He looked as serious as ever and a bit flustered, too. He was probably coming to deliver a few more biting comments, things he didn’t want his sister to hear. “What are you doing here?”

Gage slid his arms around her and held her tightly, burying his head in her hair. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Angel.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said, gripping her hands along his back, tears falling down her cheeks.

Gage didn’t want to let go.
This feels so right? God, help me. I want her back.
Holding her again, after so many years, felt like the first true thing since they ran into each other. After a few moments, they slowly pulled apart, and he dried her eyes with his fingers. “We should talk.”

“Did you come here for me?” she asked. “How did you find me?”

“Emerson told me the flight. Poppy told me the hotel.”

“You called Poppy?”

“I lost you before. I’m not about to let it happen again.”

Layla lowered her head to his chest, crying again.

“I never really stopped looking for you,” he said, one hand rubbing her back, the other stroking her hair. “I need some answers.”

“I want to talk,” she said, “but I can’t right now.”

“I know,” Gage said. “We’ve got the will reading.”

Layla’s head darted up, and she stepped away from him. “
We
?”

“I’m going with you.”

“No, Gage.”

“This is going to be difficult. I just went through this with my dad. There wasn’t a reading or anything, but there were all these lawyers and law stuff. The whole thing was uncomfortable. You need someone with you.” He took her hand and intertwined their fingers. “Let me be there for you.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Maybe not.”

“Promise me no matter what is said, you’ll stay calm.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, feeling her hand tremble just slightly. “You need to keep yourself calm and strong.”

*

After a short
cab ride, they headed into a Houston skyscraper and up to a high floor. Gage opened the conference room door, bracing himself for whatever he was getting himself into, and followed Layla inside. The room was as big as an Olympic-size swimming pool, with one side of the room covered in glass overlooking downtown Houston. There was a long rectangular table made from fine mahogany and leather conference chairs for at least two dozen people. But there were only two in the room—a woman in her early 60’s and a 40-something man, both seated together at the far end.

“Mother,” Layla said coldly.

Her mother gave a sideways smile, eyeing the man standing behind Layla. Gage kept his eyes on the man by Layla’s mother. He had blond hair and a creepy grin. Gage grabbed her hand.

“Aren’t you going to say ‘hello’ to your brother?” her mother asked.

“No,” Layla said, “I don’t have one.”

“Still a little bitch,” she said.

What the hell?
Gage darted his eyes to her mother and made a move towards her. But Layla pulled him back, seeing her half-brother get to his feet. Gage looked the woman up and down, her strawberry-blonde hair and brown eyes, her hair and makeup flawless. She probably was beautiful in her time. He remembered briefly meeting her that summer after Layla disappeared, but wouldn’t have recognized her on the street.

The half-brother came around the table towards them. Layla moved slightly behind Gage. He wrapped an arm around her and escorted her to the far side of the table.

The door opened, and a curly gray-haired attorney in a three-piece suit entered. The half-brother halted his approach and returned to his seat. Without saying a word, the attorney positioned himself at the head of the table next to Layla and Gage then surveyed the mother and half-brother sitting 50 feet away. “Would you like to come join us down here?” he said, his voice straining across the room.

“No,” the mother said.

The attorney frowned. “Both of you, come sit down here. I’m not going to yell, and you will want to hear what I have to say.”

“Whatever, man,” the half-brother said then turned to his mother. “Let’s slide down and get what’s ours.” They got up slowly, the half-brother coughing a little, his mother steadying him, and headed across the room. They sat down opposite Layla and Gage.

“I’ve been doing probate work for 30 years,” the attorney began. “Just so you know, I’ve never done a will reading before, and I’ve never seen any other attorney do it. I thought it was something just in the movies or in books, a way to create a lot of drama and tension. There’s actually no legal requirement that a will be read out loud to anyone. It’s usually my job to decide which people are entitled to receive a copy of the will so that they can read it themselves.”

“So what are we doing here?” the mother asked.

“Your late husband, Mr. Baxter, wanted to have a will reading,” the attorney said. “He wanted all of you here—his wife, his stepson, his daughter—to hear his will.”

“Who’s this other guy?” the half-brother asked.

“I’m Gage Montgomery,” he said, cool as ever, seeing a twinge of yellow in the man’s blue eyes.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Probably not,” Gage replied.

“Do you have some business here?”

“Yes,” Gage said and motioned for the attorney to continue.

“No,” the mother said and eyed Gage. “This is family business.”

“It’s also
my
business,” Layla said, “and Gage is here to assist me.”

“Be quiet,” her half-brother said.

Gage could feel Layla’s legs shaking under the table. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She looked like she could be sick. He gripped her hand and told the attorney to continue.

The attorney cleared his throat. “I believe Mr. Baxter made the right decision having a will reading because there is nothing standard about what he did in his will.” He pulled out a five-page typed document from a file, lowered his glasses on his nose, and began to read for almost 20 minutes. He must have read 100 single-spaced paragraphs spelling out in excruciating detail that Layla’s mother would, in essence, inherit all property of any kind that her husband, Mr. Baxter, ever owned.

As the attorney droned on, Gage rested his hand on Layla’s shoulder. The worst seemed to be happening. What a dirty trick that Mr. Baxter would force his daughter to attend a meeting to hear she’d been cut out and to see her mother nodding along with each passing paragraph. He remembered Layla saying how complicated her family was. Things obviously hadn’t gotten better since. He hated she came to Houston for this bullshit and hated he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. The attorney finished up and took a long drink of water.

“Are we done here?” the mother asked.

“Not at all,” the attorney said and took out another piece of paper. “The rest of Mr. Baxter’s will is contained in this letter. Layla, it is a letter from your father to you.”

Layla’s mouth fell open, and Gage gave her shoulder a little squeeze. The attorney reset his glasses and began again.

“
My dearest Layla,”
he read,
“I can feel my time coming to an end. I’m not sick. In fact, the doctor says I’m in perfect health, but still something inside of me knows. Sometimes it takes the clarity of one’s mortality to make other things crystallize in one’s mind. All I keep thinking about lately is you, Layla, my only child. And in my heart, I know I’ve made a terrible mistake
.”

Layla gasped, and the attorney stopped reading for a moment.

“This is ridiculous,” her mother snapped and stood up.

“I suggest you sit back down,” the attorney said, and the woman did so.

“How do we even know he wrote this?” the half-brother asked.

The attorney lifted his glasses. “I can assure you Mr. Baxter did. He wrote it and signed it in my presence. There were also two other witnesses here, and they also signed it. When he was done and everyone had signed, I notarized it. I’ll be glad to give you a copy when I’m through reading.”

“We’ll be wanting one,” the mother said.

The attorney lowered his glasses and continued reading. “
I know it’s too late. I know it’s too much to ask for your forgiveness, but I was wrong. I know now that you were telling the truth. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I don’t have the courage to tell you while I’m alive. I know I will burn in hell for my part, my neglect, my stupidity, and I know some day you will rise to all the angels in heaven. So I will never look upon your face again. Do you remember when I gave you your wings?
”

Gage slid a hand to his chest, as Layla dropped her head to his shoulder, sobbing. He had no idea what was going on, but from the horrified looks across the table, it was obvious he was in the middle of a shit storm.

“
You probably don’t remember, Layla. You were only three. It was right after the first time I caught you talking to Aria. We thought it was so cute that you had an imaginary friend that was an angel. I know now she was real, and she was protecting you when I wasn’t. I’m sorry, my baby. I love you always, Daddy.
”

The attorney filed away the letter and handed Layla a box of tissues from a credenza.

“You can stop the acting now, Layla,” her mother snapped. “No one is buying it.”

“You can shut your mouth, bitch!” Gage said.

“Fuck you, man!” the half-brother barked. “Layla, I see you’ve found a man that deserves you.”

Gage prepared to fire back, but Layla squeezed his hand. Her half-brother wasn’t worth it. And she could hold her own. There was no sign her legs were shaking under the table anymore.

The attorney cleared his throat. “Shall I continue?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Layla, your father has left you a lump sum payment of $250,000.”

Layla’s head whipped around, and her mouth fell open. Her mother and half-brother nearly fell out of their chairs. “How much?” her mother cried.