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Elena presses her lips together and glares at Claire. “Yeah, let’s do that. First, though, Carter, call your father and have him get out here for dinner.”
Carter nods. “Sure, when?”
“Tonight. If you meant what you said.” Elena raises a brow sharply, questioning.
I squeeze Carter’s hand supportively. We talked about this last night, Carter’s feelings about his family’s company, his role there, and his dreams for the future. I listened as Carter analyzed every angle, even deep-diving into the emotions of what being a part of his family means and whether not being at Blue Lake would change that. We didn’t come here lightly, and Carter didn’t pitch himself to Elena casually.
Carter pulls his phone out of his pocket and calls while Elena herds Claire and Stanley into the front room.
“Hey, Dad, it’s a long story, but I need you to come to Elena Cartwright’s for dinner. Leave now. I’ll explain when you get here.”
He’s quiet, listening for a moment.
“No. Tonight. It’s important. Please.”
Carter sighs in relief. “Thanks. See you soon.” He hangs up and puts his phone back in his pocket. “He’s coming.”
“You’re really sure?” I ask. “Last chance to make a run for it.” I tilt my head toward the front door with a smile, already knowing his answer.
He smiles in return, the full charm version. “Let’s check on Claire.” I raise my brows in surprise, and he clarifies, “To see if Elena is done raking her over the coals yet. Is it bad that I want to see that?”
I whisper back, “I hope not because I kinda want to see too.”
In the front room, we find Elena reigning in a chair, with Claire and Stanley sitting on the couch, each of them hugging the ends to put as much space between them as possible. Claire’s cheeks are flushed and her eyes are hard, glinting with barely restrained anger.
Stanley is frozen, other than his eyes pinging back and forth between the two women. He looks, sadly enough, like a beat-down dog that just pissed the rug and is wondering where the whooping’s coming from first.
“Carter?” Elena pauses whatever rant she was on to check in. Carter dips his chin affirmatively. “Good. Now, where were we?”
Silently, Carter guides me to the loveseat and then sits beside me, keeping my hand in his. I’m thankful for the distraction as they begin their conversation again, Stanley raising a finger. “You were talking about Thomas’s will.”
“Right. Thanks.” She points at Stanley. “Thomas’s will left everything to me, obviously. Mr. Oleana has managed our family estate for decades and only recently decided that he would like to retire. I’ve got a financial brain, but managing your own estate when it’s this large isn’t optimal. I’m too close to it. It needs someone with some objectivity, like Carter.”
Claire huffs. “Over my dead body.”
“That can be arranged,” Elena replies, her brows climbing to her forehead with the threat. Claire glares back angrily through narrowed eyes. “As I was saying, Carter is going to coordinate with Pat so that the transition is seamless. And if you’re thinking you only have to wait until I kick the bucket, know that my will does not leave everything to you.” Elena points at Claire this time. “Under no circumstances will you receive any more than what Thomas wanted you to have—a reasonable monthly stipend.”
“What?” Claire snaps.
Elena focuses on Stanley. “Exactly like the rest of you.”
“Me?” Stanley questions, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“Of course. You, Nelda, Bernard. Y’all are family.” Elena’s eyes have gone soft as she tells Stanley what he means to her, what he meant to Thomas. “Just as much—if not more—than other people.”
“You can’t be serious!” Claire shouts as she stands, her hands on her hips. “That’s my money! I’m family . . . blood! Not the hired help! I deserve it! It’s mine! Uncle Thomas wanted me to have it!”
Every word she says has an exclamation mark after it, and her voice gets louder and higher as she ramps up. I cringe away from the noise, shrinking deeper into the loveseat, and feel voyeuristic. This is a family matter, and I’m not sure Carter and I should be here for this.
Elena stands slowly, her eyes hard. “Claire, you’re mistaken. That money is not yours and will never be. And Thomas was a brilliant, loving, amazing man who cared for you very much. But he and I had conversations about this. The estate and you. I truly don’t know where you came up with this idea. It was never either of our intentions, and this only solidifies that feeling.” The coldness has melted away, leaving Elena seeming more hurt than anything by Claire’s actions and expectations.
Trying to intimidate Elena, Claire threatens, “I’ll get a lawyer.”
Elena chuckles mirthlessly. “With what money, dear? Do you think I’m going to fund a suit against myself?” She tilts her head. “You should be thankful for what you have, Mads, Jacob, and an allowance that lets you live quite comfortably.”
