“Getting him out of the house is enough for now,” Harlow murmured. “But thank you.”
Mason’s gaze sharpened. “Did he hit you, Harlow?”
“No. I’m not lying.”
“Victims often don’t want to get—”
“I’m not a victim,” Harlow said, interrupting him. “Not ever.”
Mason smiled. “No, you’re not.”
He left. Harlow returned to the sofa and leaned against Robyn.
“This has been a very sucky week.”
“It has. I’m sorry about Kip.”
“Me, too.”
Robyn put her arm around her daughter and kissed the top of her head. “I do love you, and I’m very proud of you. Austin and I will be going back home in a few days. I need to get the house ready to sell, and he wants to pack up his stuff. How about if the three of us take a couple of days to drive down to Key West and help you find a place?”
Harlow straightened and looked at her. “I appreciate that, Mom. I want to say yes, but I think I need to do this on my own.”
Robyn felt a rush of pride. “I’ll be around if you need me.”
Her daughter smiled. “I know. Just like always.”
* * *
The first time Mason had visited Gregory’s law office, he’d been more concerned about what the attorney was saying than interested in the surroundings. Now, as he walked in for the reading of the will, he found himself aware of the wood paneled walls, the elegant fixtures and the quiet air of wealth and security.
He’d driven over with Robyn and her kids. Austin and Harlow looked as nervous as he felt. They were shown into a large conference room with a table for thirty and a view of a walled courtyard filled with stone benches and flowering trees.
Salvia was already there, as were several people Mason didn’t know. He supposed some of them represented charities Lillian had supported over the years. Austin and Harlow sat on either side of their mother, and Mason settled across from them.
Since discovering the value of the house, he’d done his best not to think about his inheritance. It was too much for a guy like him to believe was real, and as it came at the price of losing someone he’d grown to love, he was fine not claiming any of it for decades. But now, waiting for Gregory to join them, Mason found himself wondering how much of this was real.
Had Lillian really left him a house he would sell for twelve-point-seven million dollars? No one should have that much money. It bordered on obscene. All he wanted was a nice little house and his military pension. That was plenty for him. Only what if it wasn’t just him?
His gaze drifted to Robyn. She was so damned beautiful. He still couldn’t believe she was willing to sleep with him and, in fact, seemed to enjoy his company. He knew every inch of her body and what her face looked like when she came. He knew what made her laugh, her favorite wines and that she loved deeply, from the soul.
Robyn deserved more than a little house and a guy with a military pension—not that he was assuming anything. Still, he also knew that she wouldn’t care what any man brought to the table financially. She couldn’t be swayed by money or power—she was interested in the essence of a person.
Gregory walked into the conference room and nodded at everyone. He settled at the head of the table and opened the folder in front of him. After explaining they were here for the reading of Lillian Holton’s last will and testament, he told them he would start with the charitable bequests first, then excuse those representatives so the rest of the will was reserved for the family.
Mason told himself not to react to whatever he heard, then nearly fell off his chair when Gregory explained about a charitable trust, worth eight million dollars, that was to be divided equally among the eleven charities represented at the reading. There was a generous bequest for each of the gardeners and all the maids, and Lillian had made arrangements to pay off Salvia’s mortgage as well as leaving her a pension. All the staff were to be kept on for a year and paid their full salary.
That part completed, Gregory had the recipients escorted from the room. When the door had closed, he said, “I doubt any of this will be a surprise, but I’m going to read it anyway.”
Robyn nodded.
Gregory read through the rest of the will. As expected, Mason received the house with the understanding that he wouldn’t sell for a year. He was given funds for upkeep and was required to give Robyn and her agents access. Lillian requested he sell to the historical society on the condition that they pay him at least twelve-point-seven million dollars. If they offered less, he was free to sell to anyone else. He was also left Uncle Leo’s papers and any books he wanted from the library.
He did his best not to react to the information—it wasn’t new, and he shouldn’t be surprised. Yet he was, because now it was real. Lillian was gone, and he owned her crazy, wonderful house.
Gregory moved on to the next section of the will. Lillian left Robyn the contents of the house, including her personal belongings, the cats and one million dollars.
“I’m sorry, what?” she asked.
Gregory paused. “Would you like me to read that part again?”
Robyn stared at him. “I, no. It’s fine. I wasn’t expecting any money.”
Mason knew she’d been worried about her financial future. She blamed herself for not making smarter decisions after her divorce. She’d worked hard to come up with a sensible plan. Now she would be financially independent and wouldn’t need anything from him.
Gregory explained that each of Robyn’s children had already received their bequests, but she left several of Leo’s watches to Austin and some jewelry to Harlow. A few minutes later, Gregory was done.
Back at the house, Robyn excused herself to go to her room. Mason watched her climb the stairs, wondering what she was thinking. There had been so much change in such a short period. While he had no reason to worry, he felt a hint of unease low in his gut. He was about to follow her, to ask what was going on, but Austin stopped him.
“You have a second?” the teen asked.
Mason nodded. “Sure. What’s up?”
“I’d like to rent a room here, if that’s all right. For the year. I won’t be around much. Between my two jobs and working out, I’ll be gone a lot. If you’d rather not, I’ll get a place somewhere else, but I’d prefer to stay here.”
“Still going to UC San Diego?”
Austin nodded. “I’ll submit my application as soon as possible. I’m starting an online SAT review course so I can better my scores. I’ll be applying to naval ROTC, too.”
“You have a plan.” Mason patted him on the shoulder. “You don’t need to rent a room, kid. You can stay here until my year is up.” He smiled. “Plenty of space.”
Austin’s face brightened. “You sure?”
“Absolutely. You’re welcome to have friends over, but no loud parties. As for the rest of it, we’ll figure it out as we go.”
“Thanks, Mason.”
Austin headed for the stairs, while Harlow hovered in the background. Mason turned to her.
“You want to stay here, too?”
She grinned. “No. I’m heading back home tomorrow.” The smile faded. “I’m a little worried about what Kip is going to do with my stuff. My friend Enid is going to stop by the apartment and make sure it’s not out in the parking lot.”