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“That dumb bitch!” Caden curses. “Where was she for the first eighteen months of Lily’s life?”
“We’re not rehashing this old hat,” Flint says, and I agree vehemently. We’ve had this conversation many, many times.
“All she wants is to get her hands on Lily’s inheritance,” I concede. “Flint, get your lawyers on it, will you? File a damn lawsuit this time if you have to. They have nothing. They can’t afford trouble. If we drag them into court, they’ll have to back off.”
Flint nods, but I read the reluctance in his eyes. “What?” I demand. “Are you having doubts?”
“I mean, technically, she is a blood relative of Lily’s,” he mutters. “If this goes to court…”
“She doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Alex and Ryker asked us to watch out for Lily and safeguard her inheritance until she comes of age. It’s in the will.”
“I know,” Flint mutters, and his doubts are giving me doubts. “Let me talk to my lawyer, all right?”
“Do it,” I urge, my stomach in knots now. “If she has any spit in this fight, we need to know now! You should have dealt with it when she first started writing.”
“I didn’t think she would keep up with it,” Flint barks back. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I have other things going on. I don’t get the luxury of sitting up in my room, painting all day. Why the hell haven’t you called your lawyers, Pike?”
His accusation is a slap in the face. “You run a multi-billion-dollar empire. You have attorneys on speed dial for stuff like this. If I’d known you were going to drop the ball so badly?—”
“That’s enough. Both of you!” Caden interjects, slapping his hands on Flint’s desk. We stop, and I spin away.
“There’s no way Raya’s getting her hands on Lily,” Caden growls, his hands closing into fists. I place a hand on his shoulder, knowing he’s speaking from a place of deep passion and extreme love for that little girl.
“We’ll sort this out one way or another,” I vow, although I don’t have enough confidence to be sure. My eyes dart toward Flint. I try to keep my voice even. “And if you need me to call lawyers, I’ll do it.”
“You’re damn right we’ll straighten this out,” Flint agrees, reaching for his phone. “I’m on it.”
* * *
It’s been four days since the latest letter from Raya Parker, and during that time, I haven’t slept a wink. Aspen notices this as we’re called to Flint’s office, her innocent face concerned as she studies my expression. I’m sure I look like a bag of shit, even though I didn’t bother to look at myself as I rolled out of my king bed and barely threw on a tracksuit that morning in response to Flint’s summons.
“Is everything all right?” she asks, her voice hoarse as if she’s expecting terrible news. “Did I do something wrong?”
Bad luck, running into her and making our way downstairs. Of everyone in the house, it has to be her. I shouldn’t have to be the one explaining Raya Parker to her. Someone else should have done that.
“No idea,” I lie to her face, sensing full well what this is about.
Flint had already texted me last night to warn me that his lawyer was going to be here this morning.
“Am I getting fired, Pike?” Aspen asks more boldly, stopping in her tracks. “I don’t need an audience if that’s the case.”
I also halt, a small chortle escaping my lips. “Fired?” I repeat. “Why would we fire you? Lily adores you.”
She tries to hide the pleasure overtaking her but fails miserably. I don’t stick around for the Hallmark moment and bound down the west stairs, two at a time.
“Okay, if it’s not about me, then why am I being called to this meeting? Where is Lily?” she calls out.
“With Zoe, probably,” I sigh. “Just wait and find out with the rest of us.”
My steps quicken, and I round the corner, hoping to escape her questions, but I hear her footsteps hurrying to catch up with me.
Thankfully, the office door is wide open, and Flint is already inside with his lawyer. I can’t remember this one’s name, having only met him once or twice before. Not that I pay much attention to most people.
“Where’s Caden?” Flint asks as we enter, one after the other. He dispenses with pleasantries, clearly eager to get rid of his attorney sooner rather than later.
“Here.” Caden’s bright, bouncing tone ricochets through the halls. “I’m coming. I just stopped to say good morning to Lil.”
Through my peripheral vision, I see Aspen’s shoulders visibly sag. “Is she in the kitchen?” the nanny asks.
