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He slipped out, leaving me to my thoughts, the letters in the drawer calling to me like Poe’s heart. Did she know I’d taken them? She’d left again within a few minutes of her arrival. Maybe she hadn’t gone into the hidden space at all. Maybe it would be a long time before she realized they were missing.
Just breathe, Greer. You have time to decide what to do.
Sterling’s letters explained so much. Jace and I had long suspected that Eugenia had been the unnamed minor in the complaint that had gotten Sterling arrested for the first and only time. Still, suspicion was one thing—confirmation was another. And the way he’d strung her along all those years, promising to marry her? She’d finally forced his hand and look where that had gotten her.
Maybe Eugenia was letting this house rot because she’d wanted it so badly for so long only to have it snatched from her in the end. She’d used Sterling’s money to take care of herself and her daughter like he’d promised. Again, I was surprised by how little I cared—about the defrauding of the estate or the house. I’d happily sign it over to Anna and spare us both the court costs except for one thing—I needed to be here. I needed to know everything, and if the letters didn’t tell me who my father was, I’d never find out without access to Richmond House. The secret lived here, I was convinced.
I heard the phone ring downstairs, and Wade’s deep voice picked up. I smiled, glad he was making himself at home. Besides, the only people who ever called me were Eugenia and Jace. And Anna, I guess. And Marina. Whoever it was, I didn’t care if they knew Wade was here.
“Greer!” he shouted. That’s when I knew it was Jace. If it had been anyone else, he’d have called me “darlin’.”
I took my time making my way down to the parlor. The last time Jace was here, he’d been a complete asshole, berating me about the way I was dressed and circling Wade like a possessive dog poised for attack after he’d barely spent any time with me since the almost-accident. I know the optics of Wade living in the house with me weren’t ideal from the perspective of an outside observer, but Jace either trusted me, or he didn’t. He either knew with everything in him that I’d never want anyone else ever again, or he didn’t.
I picked up the receiver and heard Jace breathing deeply on the other end like he was trying to calm himself down.
“Hello?” I said innocently.
“Greer.”
“I’m sorry, who is this?”
“To say I’m not in the mood to take any shit from you would be an understatement, Greer,” he said, warning me.
“If you called just to yell at me, I’m not in the mood to talk to you either.”
“I didn’t…I didn’t call to yell. I ran into Anna at the courthouse, and I need to talk to you. I’m on my way to the house.”
“Wait…I don’t want to meet at the house.” I knew the second his body filled the threshold, my physical desire for him would take over and we’d end up back in bed together—Wade’s presence be damned. We had so many things to talk about before that could happen again. I was putting my foot down. We’d meet in a public place. “By the way, if this is about Anna challenging the will, I already know about that.”
Jace was once again silent on the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
“Yeah, I’m here. I’m glad you brought that up.” His voice sharpened, the tip of a knife wrapped in sandpaper. “The fact that you again failed to share with me a very pertinent and timely tidbit about your life is just one of the things we need to talk about.”
I blew out a breath, feeling more than a little guilty about all the things I hadn’t confided in Jace about recently. Until I remembered that he hadn’t confided in me either. Besides, it’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just everything was happening so fast I couldn’t keep up. I mean, I’d only just found out about the whole Anna thing this morning, and it’s not like I could have told him standing on the back porch while he threw daggers at me with his eyes. “Fine. But like I said, I don’t want you to come to the house. Let’s meet somewhere downtown.”
“Where?”
“How about the Chart Room? I know you know where that is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Seven tonight?”
Jace paused. “See you there.”
* * *
I was late.Only by ten minutes, but late enough that Jace was already sitting in a booth with a pint of beer in front of him, looking like he was about to jump out of his skin. I’d struggled with what to wear, ultimately deciding on a black-jeans-and-sweater combo to keep me warm. My black, heeled ankle boots clicked with every stride I took across the concrete floor.
I slid in opposite him, and we studied each other. I took long seconds to take in the perfection of his sharp features, his black eyes focused solely on me, the fullness of his lips, the cut of his jaw. The air between us felt heavy.
It’d been less than a week since the night he’d stalked me to a different bar, the night I’d discovered Danny was dead, and I’d thought Jace responsible. The night we’d made love—truly expressed our love—for the first time, and I’d fallen asleep in his arms. It was hard to imagine then that we’d be sitting across from each other like this just a few days later.
He finally broke the silence. “Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked in a dark, judgmental tone that made me feel like I’d done something terrible rather than just spared him the drama of my fragile mental state. In reality, he’d done something much worse. My own anger, muted though it was, mounted in my chest as I glared at him.
“You know, for all your insistence on complete honesty, I’m surprised the policy doesn’t extend to you, yourself,” I said in a voice so razor-sharp I surprised myself.
