Page 188 of Always: A Legacy Novel

“I guess the pool table was a custom build,” Cross said, “and the guy couldn’t get the builder to come in and take it apart before closing, so they could get it out without damaging it. I offered to hold onto it until he could, but he said fuck it.”

Catherine ran her fingertips over the royal purple velvet top. “Huh.”

“I’ll teach you to hustle, babe.”

She smirked at him. “Or I could teach you.”

“So, do you like it?”

Was he joking?

“Oh, my God, I love it. And I wonder, how much was this place?”

Cross shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Five-point-three million.”

Catherine’s eyes stretched wide as she turned on him. “What?”

She wasn’t surprised at the cost. The going rate of a small, one bedroom penthouse in Manhattan could easily go over a million. And with the rise in condo buildings all over the place, that price was getting higher by the month. She was surprised, however, that he offered the figure so easily, as though it wasn’t a big thing at all to drop over five million dollars just like that.

“Calisto had control of my trust until I was eighteen, and he looked after it for me. His money manager built the trust on some sure-thing investments, and that gained a bit. A good portion of the cash just sat and gained interest for eighteen years, too.”

“I mean, yeah, I know how trusts work, Cross.”

Catherine’s father allowed her access to her portfolio for her trust, and sometimes she was allowed to look through investments where the trust was growing best. She wasn’t, however, allowed to remove money from the trust until she turned eighteen.

“I got a deal, too, seeing as how it was going to be in foreclosure, and the guy went through a private lawyer to try and sell it before the bank got ahold of it. Calisto brought it up to me when his lawyer mentioned it—I bought the guy’s mortgage out, basically. It’s worth double what I paid, easily.” Cross glanced at her. “Basically emptied my trust fund.”

“On a penthouse?”

“I wouldn’t have spent a dime of that money, otherwise. I mean, when I was younger, I took money out to buy shit I wanted, but I didn’t really stop to consider what I was doing back then. It came from a man I don’t care to know, so it would have just rotted in the bank. Let’s look at it like the man who donated the sperm can finally say he fucking did something for my life.”

Catherine tampered her reaction about the money. “For what it’s worth, Cross, he’s missing out on a great man.”

“He didn’t raise this man, Catherine, a far better man stepped in to help my mother with the job. So, he doesn’t even matter.”

He was absolutely right.

Catherine reached out and snagged Cross by his suit jacket. She pulled him close, stood on her tiptoes in her heels, and kissed him. Their oh, so familiar dance washed through her veins like the best kind of drug, making her high, happy, and content all at the same time. Every sweep of his lips, and stroke of his tongue drove her crazy, and she couldn’t pull him close enough to satisfy her racing heart.

Before she knew what happened, Cross had picked her up and set her on the edge of the pool table.

“Your turn,” he murmured against her lips.

“To do what?”

“Open your letter.”

She’d forgotten about that, even if she was still holding it. Shooting him a wink, she ripped open the side of the letter, and pulled it out, flipping open the three folds to read the first few words out loud. It was all she needed to read, really, and Cross didn’t let her get anymore out.

“Catherine Marcello, we are pleased to accept your—”

He kissed her again—harder than she had kissed him, taking away her breath and making her thighs widen to get his body tucked right where she needed him the most.

“Congratulations,” he told her.

Catherine grinned. “There was never any doubt.”

“Maybe not, but it’s still deserved, and you should be told that, too.”