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Camille, I had many contacts in the publishing world who kept me informed about you and your life. I saw your job becoming all-consuming. You had no life, no family, no friends outside of work and no interests or hobbies. It was going to kill you and to what end? So your tombstone could say, SHE OWNED A MAGAZINE?
I initiated the hostile takeover a few years ago. I won’t go into all the details but it would have succeeded if Will hadn’t done a bit of insider trading which forced my contacts to back off. I had my attorney threaten you and Will with charges and collusion. I never had him actually file the charges. All of this was done without using my name so you would never know. However, I don’t want you to live in fear of being prosecuted any longer so I’m telling you. I wanted desperately to save you from yourself.
Camille stopped reading and looked at Will. “I can’t even think of enough expletives to say right now.”
Will was laughing so hard, he nearly choked. “She was quite the manipulator. Wow. I never suspected it was her.”
“How can you find any humor in this?”
“The humor is in the fact that I chased those damned legal papers you kept in your safe all the way to Montana.”
“Is that why you tried calling me?”
“Yes. I wanted the combination to
your safe. I needed to read those documents from the attorney to know if the statute of limitations was up before I applied at the firm in California. I finally decided to take my chances and now…with this,” he pointed to the letter…”there were never any legitimate charges anyway. How many years have we waited for the shoe to drop?”
Camille shook her head. “If she was so worried about my mental state, what did she think having jail time hanging over my head was doing to it?”
She continued reading: I know you don’t need my Paris house or my furnishings, so as I’m sure the attorney told you, I’ve left instructions for them to be sold and the proceeds donated to charity. The only things I’m leaving for you are some stocks and bonds, the house in Montana and the snow globe and there’s a reason for each one.
You never liked what I purchased for your Christmas gift regardless of what it was. I spent a lot of money to get the right things only to fail year after year. One year, I decided I was done trying. I bought the cheap snow globe and stuffed it in a gift bag. You pretended to hate it, but I saw you turning it over again and again. I’ve kept it to symbolize the one and only time we agreed on something. I thought perhaps you would enjoy having it…perhaps not. It’s yours now, do with it what you want.
I only spent a few weeks each year at the Montana house but I always felt peaceful and grounded when I was there. It gave me comfort and a perspective on my life I couldn’t attain anywhere else. The last time I was there, I had recently been told I didn’t have too long to live. I sat on the deck and made a conscious decision to not do a damned thing about it. I chose to fill my remaining years, months, weeks or days with as many of my favorite activities as I could. I did not tell you or anyone else except your father. He was always a praying man, which I scoffed at then, but I asked him to pray for you, Camille, not for me.
I have been a cold, unemotional mother and for that, I ask your forgiveness. Please don’t wait until you are dying to realize there’s more to life than work and money. There’s love and contentment. Go find it. (And for once in your life, don’t fight me on this.)
Loving thoughts of you, Camille,
Barbara
CHAPTER 39
JACE WAS TRYING to absorb everything Maggie was saying but she was agitated enough that her words were coming at him in unintelligible half-sentences.
“Slow down, Maggie. It can’t be that bad. I really don’t see the harm in Emily or Camille or whatever her name is writing with a different name. Authors do it all the time.”
“But…but, did you even read what she wrote about you?” She stabbed the article with her finger.
“What makes you so sure she’s writing about me? I glanced at it and didn’t see any names, whatsoever.”
She grabbed the magazine and left the office, slamming the door. “Men…they’re so damned dense sometimes!”
She threw the folded publication under the bar and continued mumbling to herself.
She fished her phone out of her pocket when it buzzed. “Hello?” she answered in an annoyed voice.
“Is this a bad time, Maggie?”
“It could be. Who is this?”
“It’s Will…your fill-in grill cook. How quickly you’ve forgotten me. I’m hurt.”
“And I’m sorry. I haven’t forgotten you, Will. I’ve just had a conversation that didn’t leave me in a very good humor. Where are you?”
“I’m in St. Louis. But I’m thinking of heading back to Bozeman for a few weeks or a month and wondered if you’d consider going out with me while I’m there.”
“Yes, of course I’d love to show you around. We have enough beautiful scenery around here to last for months of sightseeing.”
