Inherited: Expectant Cinderella. Myrna Mackenzie
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now that our paths have crossed despite your best hopes … what am I going to do about you?”
It would still be months before Daisy signed up for her first Lamaze class, but she knew that proper breathing was at the core of the program, so if she were in a class right now, she’d be failing. Fear was playing havoc with her breathing, and she was alternately forgetting to breathe and then having to suck in big gulps of air while trying to appear perfectly calm to this man who claimed to be Tillie’s nephew. The man who also claimed to own this building.
“Tillie never spoke of you,” she said, grasping for a lifeline. Surely Tillie, who had been like a mother to her, and also her best friend in the world, would have mentioned that she had a nephew….
Who looked more gorgeous than any man has a right to look. With great shoulders and great … other stuff, and a deep voice that—
Daisy blinked. What was wrong with her? Seriously. This man wasn’t even nice.
She frowned. “It just seems as if Tillie might have mentioned a nephew if you were her heir,” she said, glad that the man couldn’t read minds. Or … he probably couldn’t. Tillie had always tried to claim she was psychic and that Daisy was as transparent as they come. If this man was related to her …
“My aunt and I never met,” the tall, dark-haired stranger said. “But according to her attorney, she died without a will and I’m her only living relative.”
No. No. No. No. No. That couldn’t be true, but … oh, just look at him. Look at the strong line of his jaw, the arch of his eyebrows. If she were playing a matching game, those features would be a perfect fit for Tillie’s. Still … she needed time. She needed to think, to see if there was some way out of this crazy rabbit hole she’d fallen into when this man had stepped through the door.
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to need more proof than just your word.” Men had told her so many lies over the years, they had hurt her so much. If she was going to get kicked out on the streets—please don’t let me get kicked out—she wasn’t going to go down meekly. Still, the look in those I’m-in-command green eyes told her that he was confident he would win. She tried not to think about what losing would mean for her and her friends and her—
She resisted the urge to curl a protective hand over her abdomen. Panic made breathing even more difficult. Her hands felt clammy.
The man looked decidedly irritated, and Daisy discovered that, even irritated, he looked just as devastating, a fact which really ticked her off. Life could be so unfair sometimes. “I don’t generally carry around those kinds of documents,” he told her with an imperious air.
A small sliver of hope grew within her. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe, she ordered herself. Maybe all of them could be safe for a little while longer.
And maybe a miracle could happen, a beam of light could lift me into an alternate universe where pink unicorns frolic and chocolate bars grow on trees, she chided herself. Or at least to a universe where there were no rich, handsome and, yes, rightful owners with the law on their sides wanting to throw her and hers out on the street. Think, Daisy, think. You need real ammo here. You need to be smart.
Okay. Here was the deal, all that she had. “Tillie was my very best friend,” she said as forcefully as she dared. “She wanted me here. And I have proof, neighbors who will vouch for me.” With the last bit of courage she possessed, Daisy lifted her chin.
The man ran a hand through his hair. Hair that had obviously seen the services of an expensive stylist. He turned those cold, deep-green eyes on her and frowned. “All right, you have me there. I never knew my aunt and I don’t know anyone in Las Vegas. I’m not from here, but I assure you, Ms. Lockett, the law is on my side. I intend to come back and dispose of my aunt’s effects. I’m going to do something with this building, and I’m afraid that you won’t be allowed to stay unless you can provide legal papers that trump mine, the ones that really do exist. I’ll be back tomorrow with proof of ownership, and if you’re still here, I’ll expect there to be a very good reason. A legal reason.”
Daisy looked up into the man’s gorgeous eyes and saw nothing that could give her hope. Tillie had been a total sweetheart, a surrogate mother and a friend, but she had also been a bit of a procrastinator. She’d disliked lawyers and anyone with authority. And like so many people, she’d thought she’d live forever and probably had never even considered making a will. In fact, given Tillie’s spontaneous nature, it would be beyond surprising if she’d left anything legal that could save her friends now. And Daisy wasn’t the only one at risk. Panic—sheer, terrifying panic—ripped through her. The others were too frail and old to deal with this stuff. She had to be the strong one now, the leader, the helper.
So, closing her eyes and biting her lip, she sent one swift wish for guidance into the ether. Reaching out, she touched the man’s sleeve.
“Please don’t send us out on the streets. We have nowhere to go.”
She wasn’t even touching his skin at all, but she felt as if a lightning bolt had ripped through her and left shimmering sparkles of electricity filling the air around her. As if she was somehow electrically linked to this man who was looking at her as if she had just declared that she was going to give birth right in front of him. The fact that that thought wouldn’t be too terribly far from the truth if this was seven months into the future made Daisy blanch, but she held on. “Please,” she added. “Not yet. I’ll … I’ll get proof about Tillie and all of us somehow.”
“All of you,” the man said. “There are more of you?”
“Just us four.” She decided that it might be best not to mention the dog right now. Or … her pregnancy. “We just need a little time.”
“Four. There are four people living in this building,” he said, as if she hadn’t told him that already.
Daisy nodded. “I’m sorry you didn’t know before you got here. We didn’t try to hide it.” Although they had all known that the building didn’t belong to them and that this couldn’t last forever. They had been mailed a notice to leave and they just … hadn’t left. But she wasn’t sharing that with this man. He might have her cuffed and thrown into jail right now, and then where would the others be? She had to—somehow—gain them a little time.
She hazarded her best hopeful smile. “I guess … I guess you’re our landlord now, Mr. Sutcliffe. We could start paying you rent.” Even though she had no idea how they could scrounge together enough money for that.
For half a second, something that looked a bit like a smile lifted his lips just a touch. “You say that as if it’s a novel idea. Were you paying my aunt rent?”
“We were working for Tillie. And we all contributed our share. We were kind of like a … sort of like a commune.”
“A … commune? I see,” he said, and it was obvious he didn’t like what he saw.
“We could continue to be useful, running the chapel,” she offered. “We make people happy. In a way, we make their dreams come true, and it pays a little.”
If anything, Parker looked even more concerned. As if she’d just suggested that they take up raising rats. “I’m not a big believer in dreams, and I’m not interested in getting involved in the marriage business,” he said. “But despite how things appear, I’m not totally heartless, either. I’ll think things over tonight. Then tomorrow we’ll start looking for somewhere for you to go so that you’re not all homeless.”
And just like that he turned to go. But she was still holding on to his sleeve. Daisy heard a tiny rip as he stepped away, and she let go, her hand flying to her mouth in horror. “I’m really sorry about that. I could … get it fixed for you.”
“You’re quite a resourceful woman, aren’t you?”
That didn’t sound like a true compliment, but then, Daisy had experienced more than her share of criticism in her lifetime.