“June can’t come soon enough. Are there any decisions to make for the reception?”
She pulled out her phone to show him some photos. “I was unsure on the cake. We were going to have a traditional cake, but what if we do cupcakes? I saw a display that alternated tiers of cupcakes and macarons. It was so pretty and different.” She handed him her phone.
He scrolled through them. “I approve. We could even skip the cake entirely and serve beignets. And I have a surprise I want to do if you’ll let me.”
“You can do whatever you’d like. What is it?”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s a surprise. It will come at the end. Will you trust me?”
“I think you know I do.” He had impeccable instincts and great ideas. She couldn’t wait to see what he’d planned.
They discussed the guest list and decided to expand it a little. Talking things over made it all seem more real and imminent.
Her tummy rumbled. “I wouldn’t mind some of that étouffée you bought. I don’t think I had lunch.”
“It’s in the Crock-Pot keeping warm.” He rose and helped her to her feet.
They strolled toward the house to the sound of doves cooing. She tensed to see a truck like Michael’s rumble past. “It wouldn’t be him.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him to try to see what you’re doing. I talked to—” He clamped his lips shut. “Sorry, no talking about problems tonight.”
Dread curled in her chest. “I need to know if it’s bad.” He reached out his hand to lead her toward the door, and she clung to it. “It’s that bad?”
“I had two conversations today—one planned and one not planned.”
“You talked to Scott?” She knew he had an appointment coming up but wasn’t sure when. Hez held open the door, and she stepped into the fragrant aroma of shrimp étouffée. The scent of Cajun spices and shrimp usually made her mouth water, but her stomach clenched with the blow she sensed was taking aim at her heart. She stopped by the kitchen counter next to the Crock-Pot. “Tell me.”
“Scott confirmed our chances were slim without Erik’s consent. But it wasn’t all bad.”
As Hez laid out his plan to dig up evidence on Michael’s criminal activity, she reached up and traced the still-healing ridge of flesh from his injury. “Hez, you nearly died. This is risky—too risky.”
His jaw flexed, and he narrowed his eyes. “It’s our only chance unless you want to cave to your dad’s extortion.”
“He was your unexpected appointment?”
“He was waiting for me to leave Scott’s and ambushed me. I will say this, though—if he hadn’t mentioned all the dirt he had on Michael, I might not have come up with the idea to prove him unfit to raise Simon.”
Hez went over her father’s demands, and she clenched her fists. “He’s despicable. Doesn’t he care at all about Simon?”
“Probably not. His first love is money, and Simon isn’t really his grandson. In spite of the way he seemed to want to get to know him, I’m afraid he only wanted access to Jess’s money.”
“Like Erik.” She flexed her fingers and made herself relax her hands. “I think Dad was always this way, but I wouldn’t let myself see it. If I’d had the courage to stand up to him sooner, maybe I could have saved my mom. If I’d defied him, maybe Jess wouldn’t have gone down that dark road of hatred and revenge.” Her throat thickened. “There are so many things I wish I’d done differently.”
He palmed her face and gazed down at her with tenderness in his eyes. “We each make our own choices, babe. You were just a kid. I doubt your mom would have appreciated the stress of constant warfare, and it might have made Jess worse. We can’t change what is or the choices any of them made.Dwelling on the might-have-beens is a sure way to destroy the future. It was only by the grace of God that guilt didn’t ruin my life. It’s been hard to let go of the burden of guilt and accept forgiveness—both from you and from God.” His voice shook. “I have to work on it every day. You need to do that too. This is not your fault.”
He was right. She wrapped her arms around him. “We’ve overcome so much, Hez. Even if Simon goes to Michael, he’s still our nephew. We’ll get to see him and have a part in his life.” The thought stabbed her heart, though.
He stiffened. “I don’t intend to let that happen. I’m going to work hard at finding a crack in Michael’s armor. There has to be a way of proving he’s a criminal.”
She inhaled. “Do you think Michael wants Simon’s money too?”
“I don’t get the sense he cares about that. I think he really believes Simon should be raised as a Willard.” Hez rubbed his thumb along the ridge between her eyes. “That’s your thinking frown. What are you planning?”
She ran her fingers over her bracelet. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to find out Michael’s motives and offer him an olive branch. We’ll need to deal with him no matter who has custody. Open warfare isn’t good for Simon no matter who he lives with.”
And she knew just who to talk to. Nora might be willing to help her figure this out.
Hez sat alone in the Justice Chamber, staring at his monitor. The quiet space away from the busy administration buildingalways helped him focus and think. The information about Anton Todorov hadn’t gone anywhere. Hez had sent the man’s name and picture to Bruno to research, but there’d been no trail to follow. Even the metadata on the picture had been scrubbed. Martine’s client was being very careful to keep his—her? their?—identity secret. Why?
