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“I love you.” He leans in and presses his lips to mine.
“I love you too,” I tell him, but I’m not done. Dropping my hands from his face, I turn to look at Owen. He has a soft expression on his handsome face. One I’ve only seen when he’s looking at his wife and son. “You and your family,”—I shake my head—“you’ve accepted me into Grant’s life without question. You’ve supported my business and my love for your brother. You treat both my sister and me like we’ve always been family.”
“You are family.”
I nod. My lips tilting in a grin. “I love all of you like family. Owen, I can’t tell you what it means to me that you’re here with me today.” I take a quick glance at Grant. “Both of you. And your mom, she’s slaving away at the bakery, and I-I’m not sure how to show you all what that means to me. To have people who I love and trust in my corner. To know that it’s not just me and Aspen in this big city alone.” Grant stands, and so do I. Only it’s not him that I go to. It’s his brother. I wrap my arms around Owen in a hug. “Thank you for being here for me.”
“Aw, sis.” Owen’s deep voice rumbles.
“Rory.” I turn to look at Grant, and his arms are wide open. “I need you over here.” I waste no time moving into his embrace. He holds me tight. No words are spoken, but we don’t need them.
The door opens, and I try to pull out of Grant’s arms, but he’s not having it. Martin Hamilton takes a seat behind his desk, and there is sweat beading on his brow.
“Let’s hear it,” Owen says.
“Well, it looks as though Mr. Davis was added to the account. You signed off on the change two weeks ago,” he says, turning his beady eyes toward me.
“I did no such thing. Show me,” I demand. He nods and places a piece of paper on the desk, sliding it our way.
“That’s not her signature,” Grant says immediately. He reaches for a notebook and a pen without asking permission and hands it to me. “Babe, sign your name,” he tells me.
Taking the pen and paper, I scrawl my name across the page. Grant hands it to Martin. “Not hers.”
“Martin, it seems we have an issue,” Owen tells him. “A case of forgery?”
“This was an addition made by my personal receptionist.”
“Is that something that your personal receptionist often does? Alters people’s accounts?” Grant asks. He’s barely maintaining his composure.
“She used to be a teller. She helps out from time to time.”
“Let’s bring her in, shall we?” Owen suggests.
Martin wipes his brow and presses the intercom button on his phone. “Lucy, could you join us, please?” He doesn’t wait for her to reply. A few minutes later, his office door opens, and Lucy hesitantly steps in.
That same eerie feeling I got when she greeted us, the way she looked at me, prickles my awareness. “Yes, Mr. Hamilton?”
“Lucy, can you tell me if you recognize this woman?”
“I’ve never seen her before,” she replies, and then her eyes widen.
Busted!
“Can you tell me why you approved a signature on an account without verifying identity?”
“I—” She opens and closes her mouth.
“We know it was you,” Owen tells her. “It was your account. You just admitted to not knowing who she is. You’ve backed yourself into a corner.”
“You stole from him!” she shouts, pointing her finger at me. “He loves me, and we want to get married, but we can’t because you stole from him. He was just taking back what was his.”
“Who?” I ask calmly.
“Elijah. My fiancé.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. Not just a low chuckle, but a full-out head-thrown-back, deep-from-your-gut laugh. No one says a word until I’m able to gain composure. “Oh, Lucy.” I shake my head. “He’s a con artist. A bully.”
“No. You’re wrong.” She’s quick to defend him, and suddenly my laughter is overshadowed by pain. Hers and mine.
“Let me guess. He loves you and wants you to be your best self. That’s why he nags you about what you eat, what you wear, and how you wear your hair. He tells you that you’re the most important person in his life, then tells you that you’re a disgrace in your current state.” Her eyes well with tears, and that’s all I need to know. Elijah is never going to change. Men like him rarely do. “Lucy, I was you. I believed his lies and took his abuse. He tore me down to nothing and left me there. Just like he left me at the church on the day of our wedding.” A sob breaks free from her chest, but the final piece of the hole he left in mine heals.
