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“No.” She’s shaking her head.

“Do you realize what you’ve done?” I ask her. “You’ve committed a crime. Fraud for him.”

Panic crosses her features as her eyes dart to Martin, then to the door. Owen moves to stand in front of it, blocking her exit. “Martin,” Grant speaks up. “You have a choice to make.”

Martin nods and picks up his phone. “Can you send up security?” he asks whoever is on the other end.

“No. You can’t do this. Please, no. Let me call Elijah. He’ll tell you that she’s lying.”

“What did you do with the money, Lucy?” Martin asks her, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“We have an account here together. We’re using it for our wedding. It’s his money,” she cries.

Martin rolls his eyes and turns to his computer. His fingers tap against the keyboard. Whatever he sees has him shaking his head. “This account?” he asks, turning his screen so that we can all see it too has a negative balance.

“What?” Lucy whispers. “That’s not right. It can’t be.”

“You’ve been played,” Grant tells her.

“And you’re going to jail,” Martin adds. “You do realize that the bank is responsible for this fiasco that you’ve created? The money you stole from Ms. Steele has to be returned.”

“I-I don’t have that kind of money,” she says as there’s a knock at the door.

“Security,” a deep voice announces.

Owen steps back and allows them to enter. Not only is security entering the room, but the Nashville Police are right behind them. I called in a favor to a friend of mine, asked him and his partner to hang out in the lobby. I wasn’t sure what we were getting into, but I knew that if we needed them, I wanted them close. Martin explains the situation, and Lucy is quickly read her rights and taken out in handcuffs. Part of me wants to stop them to tell them that she didn’t know any better, but she did. She knew right from wrong. She knew she was forging my name on a document. No matter how many times Elijah tore me down, I never broke the law for him, and I never would have. My moral compass wouldn’t allow it.

Lucy is crying uncontrollably as she’s escorted out of the office. The room is silent until we can no longer hear her cries.

“Ms. Steele, I owe you an apology.”

I nod. “How do we fix this, Mr. Hamilton?”

“Nashville Horizon has fraud protection coverage for rare,” he emphasizes the word, “occurrences as these. It does take some time to get it all processed and through the insurance carrier.”

“What do I do until then? This is my livelihood. The livelihood of my business.”

“I’m sorry.” His shoulders slump. “I’ll make some calls and see what I can do.”

“You’ve got until tomorrow morning to notify us of the next steps,” Owen informs him. “See to it that we hear from you.” With that, he nods at Grant, who links his fingers through mine and leads us out of the office and to the elevators.

“Wow,” I say once the doors slide closed.

“That’s not at all what I was expecting,” Owen tells me.

“I’m sorry to drag you both into this mess. Thank you for being here.”

“Are you kidding? I live to make that man squirm. He’s a pansy-ass who sits in his big office all day and does jack shit. He has no idea what was going on under his nose.”

The elevator doors open, and with our heads held high, we make our way out of the building. The warm May sun beats down on us, and I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air. I don’t know how this mess is going to turn out, but I have to have faith that everything will be all right.

“You going back to the office?” Owen asks.

“No. We’re going to go back to the bakery and relieve Mom, and then we’re… we’re just going to be.”

He nods. “Love you, brother. You too, Aurora. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

Grant steps forward and gives his brother one of those back-slapping man hugs men do. “Thanks, O. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”

“Me too.” I move forward as Grant steps back and I give Owen another hug. “Thank you for being here.” I know I’ve told him already, but I feel as though it deserves to be repeated.

“You kids have fun. I’ll call you later,” he says, climbing into his car.

“You can go to the office,” I tell Grant. “I’m sure you have a ton of work waiting for you.”

“Nothing that can’t wait. Today I just need to be close to you.” He doesn’t say why, but he doesn’t need to. I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves as I told Owen my story. And let’s be real, we don’t ever need an excuse to spend time with the ones we love. Even if it means missing work for a day. We’ll call it a mental health day.

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