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She leaned forward, her knees pressing the desk. “Can I fight that?”
“Yes. But I warn you, it will be expensive.”
And where would she get the money?
“Surely half the house is mine because of community property?”
Baldwin nodded. “Yes. But unless you can buy out your children’s half, you can’t sell it. Any of the assets you wish to claim, remember, will necessitate litigation. And again, that will be expensive.”
Her throat closed. For fourteen years Jerry had bullied her, had killed almost everything that she was. And he was still doing it from the grave.
Tom Baldwin wasn’t an unfeeling man. “Talk to Paul Russell,” he urged. “Surely he’ll see that this document was drawn up in haste, by a man who wasn’t seeing clearly. Death makes people do crazy things.”
Not in this case. This move was one hundred percent pure Jerry.
Rosewood, Texas
Paul jogged the remaining three blocks of his run, slowing as he came to Main Street. He turned at Borbey House, inhaling the smell of pies baking in Annie Warren’s kitchen. He groaned. The Sorenson bakery was in the next block. They were probably baking cinnamon buns. It was what he deserved for putting his office right smack in the middle of them both.
His cell phone rang. Since it was still early, he considered ignoring it as he decided between pie and pastry, but by habit he flipped open the phone, slowing to a walk.
“Russell.”
It took him a few moments to realize who was calling and why. As he did, his mood soured. “Laura, slow down. It’s clear to me from Jerry’s will that he didn’t act in haste, that he knew exactly what he wanted.”
Her voice was plaintive. “What about what I want for my children?”
“I don’t mean any disrespect, but my friend chose me to be his executor and I have to act on his behalf.” My friend who’s now gone. Leaving a gaping hole in both the business and what had been an eighteen-year friendship. Jerry had been like an older brother, first taking him under his wing at the University of Texas.
Jerry hadn’t treated him like the small town hick some others had, instead drawing him into his group of friends. Grateful, Paul had been eager to go into partnership with him after graduation. It seemed hard to believe he had been such a vital, strong man only a short time ago.
“What about the company?” she was asking.
He stopped walking, bending at the waist to stretch. “What about it?”
“Jerry was your partner. I’m prepared to take his place.”
“Excuse me?” Paul was glad she couldn’t see his face.
“I said I’m prepared to take his place.”
“You want to work in the firm?” He wiped the sweat from his neck.
“Yes.”
Paul stretched his right leg. “I don’t remember Jerry ever talking about you helping with the deals.”
“Well…I didn’t exactly. That doesn’t mean I can’t learn.”
“And who’s supposed to teach you?”
“You. I know I don’t have my agent’s license yet, but I can take classes toward that. It’s the investment part of the business I need to learn and there’s not a school for that.”
“You want me to teach you?” He switched legs, stretching the left. “That’s not a good idea.”
“But—”
“I’m sure you mean well, but it would be more helpful to all concerned if you concentrate on raising your kids.” He started walking, anxious to end the call. Jerry hadn’t said anything, but Paul suspected his friend must have had reason to worry about Laura to have left him as executor instead of his wife. He had promised Jerry he would watch out for the children. Jerry hadn’t asked the same for Laura.
“That’s not what I want.”
“And Jerry didn’t want to die young, but we don’t all get what we want.” He exhaled, trying not to be harsh with her. “Sorry to rush, but I’m on my way to the office. Bye.” Not waiting for a reply, he clicked off. His appetite ruined, he jogged the rest of the way to his office, waving to Ethan Warren who was climbing into his car, no doubt on his way to the school.
The phone was ringing as Paul entered. Turning on the lights, he crossed to the desk that faced the entrance. Breathless, he grabbed the phone. “Distinctive Properties.”
“I wasn’t finished.”
It was her.
“Paul, like it or not, we’re stuck with each other because of Jerry’s will. I want to work in the company. It was half Jerry’s, so why shouldn’t I?”
Paul glanced around his small office, imagining sharing any part of it. Since he contracted out the majority of his work, he’d never needed a large space for employees. And he’d always been partial to the Victorian building. He kept the furnishings spare—one extra desk, two chairs, a few lamps. He considered it more important for the office to fit his work instead of making it a showplace. “Your allowance is reasonable. You don’t need to work. A lot of women would be happy not to leave their kids to go to a job.”
“I want…I…” Her voice trailed off.
Listening, he heard muffled sounds. “Mrs. Manning? Laura? Are you there?”
It took a moment. “Yes.”
“You don’t even know what you’re asking to get into. This is a tough industry. Flipping property is even worse than selling homes—you know, traditional real estate. Buying investment houses, then renovating on a tight schedule and reselling them to make a quick profit is like chasing sharks. It only sounds like fun.” She didn’t laugh. That didn’t surprise him. He had never heard her laugh, she had looked unhappy every time he’d ever seen her. “It’s stressful and risky, you have to know what you’re doing all the time. If you mess up, you not only lose your own shirt, but your investors’, as well. It’s not the place for the weakhearted. I know you’ve had a lot to take in lately.” He eased into his well-used wooden chair and put his feet up on the scarred desk. “Maybe I was too abrupt with you earlier. But, this isn’t something you want to do. Trust me. You’re going to have your hands full with the kids, keeping up with your house.”
“You don’t understand—”
“What’s to understand? Jerry just died. You’re confused.”
“I’m not confused.”
Paul rubbed his eyes. “Laura, maybe you can talk to a therapist or—”
“I don’t need a therapist.”
His other line rang. “I’m sorry but I have to take another call.”
He had always understood the initial attraction Jerry must have felt for her. Tall, slim, glossy dark hair, haunting green eyes. But she always acted downtrodden. He likened her to a whipped dog. And he never could figure out why. Jerry was a great guy and treated her like a queen. But then some women, like his ex-fiancée, only thought about money. Maybe Jerry’s beautiful home wasn’t as big as she wanted. Maybe she wanted one in the exclusive River Oaks area of town where the millionaires lived.
And personality wasn’t the only thing she lacked. Her husband had just died and she hadn’t expressed a shred of grief.
Laura stumbled outside, needing the open air. Even the muggy air the recent rain had rendered. When Paul Russell had pushed, she hadn’t been able to summon the courage to push back, to find the words to explain how much she needed her freedom. She couldn’t bear to be under Jerry’s thumb another moment.
How was she going to convince him to let her learn the trade? Clearly not over the phone. She would have to talk to him in person, argue her case.
“Mom?” Kirsten sounded annoyed as she came outside to join her on the deck.
“I’m here.”
“It’s like a zillion degrees out here and the humidity’s killing my hair,” Kirsten complained.
“Did you need something?”
Kirsten frowned. “I’m going to stay at Nana’s for the weekend.”
No asking permission, not even the consideration that she might need to. This had to stop. Laura had tried so hard to keep Jerry’s abuse hidden from the children that she had become a doormat in her daughter’s eyes. And it was becoming more blatant since Jerry’s death.
“I don’t think so, Kirsten.”
Her daughter stomped her foot and Laura noticed she was wearing a new pair of shoes, another present from her grandmother. “But Nana said we were going shopping!”
“You didn’t ask me for permission.”
Kirsten scowled, her pert features so much like her father’s. “What’s the big deal?”
Maybe it had been a mistake to try to keep Jerry’s image untarnished, to keep their arguing secret. “I’m your mother, Kirsten. Without my permission, you don’t go anywhere. And that includes your grandparents’.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Those are the rules. You wouldn’t have thought you could go without permission when your father was alive.”
Kirsten was definitely her daddy’s girl. She shook the blond hair—exactly like his—blue duplicates of her father’s eyes now furious. “Daddy would have said yes!”
“Maybe. And maybe you’ll think twice next time about announcing you’ve got plans, instead of asking for permission.”
“Nana’s right. We should come live with her.”
Laura stared at her. “What?”
“Nana says you won’t be able to manage and we should come live with her. I think she’s right. And Gregg will think she’s right, too, when I tell him.”
Fear unsettled her. Up until now, Gregg hadn’t acted like his older sister. But if Kirsten tried to influence him… And Meredith…if she was campaigning to take the children away…
Laura had to do something. Living only two blocks away from her in-laws, it would be easy for Kirsten to visit them as often as she wished. Yet moving was nearly impossible. She couldn’t sell the house. And if she leased it out…she didn’t want to move her children into an area that wasn’t safe just to find lower rent. And that was the only way she could imagine finding the funds to go back to school herself. Unless…
Unless she learned the basics of flipping houses from Paul Russell. She hadn’t been able to find her courage in years, but now…now she had to.
Laura fretted and agonized for days. If she stayed in Houston, her life would be out of her control as it had been during her marriage. But, if she could convince Paul Russell…She knew she didn’t have any practical experience to bring to the table, but…She moved away from the window, her steps hesitant, and reached for the phone.
She dialed Donna’s number. They’d been friends since the third grade, and Donna was the only person she had confided in throughout her marriage. Donna answered on the third ring.
“I’m glad you’re home.”
“I was checking out what’s left in my fridge. Pretty pathetic.”
Laura frowned. Donna was a software engineer and she worked out of her home office. “You must be busy.”
“Just finished a deadline.”
“Oh.” Laura hesitated. Donna was always rushed after a deadline, playing catch up.
“What’s going on?”
Laura explained.
“I can take the kids to school, pick them up,” Donna offered. “And I’ll stay until you get home.”
“Are you sure it’s not an inconvenience?”
“I’ll bring my laptop, start on my new project. Besides, you probably have food in your fridge.”
Laura let out a breath. “What would I do without you?”
Donna laughed. “Let’s not find out. And stop worrying. Things will work out.”
Early the following morning, before traffic could clog the roads, Laura set out for Rosewood. Although both freeways heading west out of the city were always packed, Laura’s predawn head start helped.
It was nearly ten o’clock when she arrived. She hadn’t known what to expect, but the charm of the perfectly kept Victorian buildings surprised her. Equally old elm trees shaded the wide sidewalks. No boarded-up buildings on Main Street. Looked like the town was alive and kicking. She spotted an old-fashioned drugstore that made her think of the one her grandmother used to take her to for ice-cream sodas when she was a little girl. It was one of the few positive memories from her childhood.
Intrigued, Laura slowed down, savoring a place that hadn’t been edged out by a superstore or run down by neglect. She spotted cheery gingham curtains in the café windows and smiled. She needed cheer more than breakfast, which she had skipped in her hurry to get an early start, but she didn’t want to stop. She wanted to catch Paul early.
She found his office easily enough. The simple brass plaque above the wide black awning announced Distinctive Properties, Ltd.
Grasping the brass door handle, she tried to take hold of her courage as easily. She stepped inside. Paul sat at an old mahogany desk facing the entrance. A second, similar desk was angled next to his, but it was empty. The office was small, with some leather chairs, filing cabinets, coffeemaker and not much else. There was another door at the rear.
Looking back at Paul, she remembered to smile. But her courage failed her when he scowled.
Then she realized he was on the phone. Two actually. At least he was holding two. One was a cell. It rang as she watched.
Deftly he put the first call on hold, answered the second, then switched back to the first. A moment later he finally noticed her.
Her first impression hadn’t been that far off. He looked annoyed as he ended both calls.
“Good morning.” She tried to sound confident, but her voice came out sounding more like a frightened bird.
“Hello,” he said cautiously. “This is a surprise.”
“I suppose it is.” Courage. Keep your courage. “I came to talk to you about the company.”
“We already talked about it.”
“No.” She bit her lip. “You brushed me off.”
