The Hardest Fight. Amy Vastine
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much more I can do at this point but wait.”
“I see Lucy Everhart works there. Is that the same woman who stole the Wigmore Key from you?”
Dylan rubbed his temples. The Wigmore Key wasn’t something that could be stolen. His mother still resented the fact that Lucy had won the prestigious award from Northwestern Law instead of Dylan. What she failed to realize—or maybe just wouldn’t admit—was that Lucy had earned it.
“She’s the same woman who won the award.”
“Well, there you go. You need to use your relationship with her to move things along. What more do you need than an alumni connection?”
Dylan couldn’t stand how his mother saw relationships only in terms of what two people could do to advance each other’s plans. He also hated that she refused to acknowledge that Lucy was more than a rival from school.
It didn’t seem to matter to her that Lucy and Dylan had dated for years. Or that she was the woman he’d wanted to marry and the one who obliterated his heart. To Clarissa, they had graduated from the same law school and Lucy should give Dylan what he wanted out of respect for that connection.
“I don’t think Lucy views our shared past as a reason to work with Prime Developments.” He didn’t want to tell her how Lucy had sworn not to let the board deal with anyone associated with him personally. “I’m going to keep my distance and let the board think things over.”
His mom sighed. “That sounds like the exact opposite of what you should do, Dylan. If that house goes into foreclosure, there will be plenty of people vying to snatch it up in an attempt to force Prime to buy it from them for a killing. You need to use every advantage you’ve got to get this done quickly.”
He had nothing except one very angry ex-girlfriend. “I have it under control. The executive director is still on the fence about selling. If I lean on her a little and she supports the sale, the deal will go through for sure. The board trusts her and her judgment.”
“Then do it. Do whatever you need to do to gain her trust. What does she need? Give it to her in exchange for the deal.” She pulled the phone away to talk to someone else for a moment. It was no surprise that she was still at the office so late into the night. The woman never stopped. If she could find a way to sleep and work at the same time, she would do it. “I have a case to get back to. We’ll do lunch next week. I’ll have my assistant set something up with yours.”
She’d never offered to get together for lunch before. Dylan was so caught off guard he didn’t get a chance to accept the invitation before his mother hung up. There had to be some ulterior motive. She was probably displeased about something and needed to scold him in person to make her point. Maybe he wasn’t billing enough. He definitely wasn’t working as many hours as she’d like. Maybe she had caught wind of the rumor that he’d been asking about doing some pro bono work. That wasn’t really a rumor. He was seeking something a little more spiritually satisfying than what he’d spent the past few years doing.
Scrubbing his face, he wondered how much more of this he could take before he broke. This job, this life—none of it was what he’d dreamed of. There was more than enough money in the bank, but money couldn’t buy him anything he really wanted.
What he wanted was a blonde fireball with dreams bigger than both of them. He wanted her to smile when she saw him and put her hand in his whenever she was near. He wanted to kiss her lips anytime they were close enough and to feel her heart beat in rhythm with his.
Dylan had lived a charmed life, for sure. He had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He grew up in the lap of luxury, wore designer clothes, drove the fanciest cars and went to the best schools. But what Dylan wanted had nothing to do with money and material things. He wanted a family of his own. He had wanted that family to begin with Lucy, but he could never deny her anything.
So, if she wanted a fight, he’d give her one.
* * *
GIVING PAIGE CLAYTON what she wanted was fairly easy once he thought about what she really needed. Dylan entered Open Arms with a few helpers in tow.
“Can I help you?” her assistant asked, standing up to see why they were invading.
“Is Ms. Clayton in?”
Ms. Clayton came out of her office and stopped short when she saw Dylan. “Mr. Hunt, how can I help you?”
Lucy came flying out of her office, apparently at the sound of Dylan’s name. She was in jeans and a T-shirt today. Casual never looked so good. “Seriously? What are you doing here?”
“I noticed your office furniture has seen better days. You said you’d love any donations, and we had some chairs and such sitting in storage. I was hoping you could use them.”
He motioned for them to join him by the door so they could see the chairs and other goodies he had brought with him. Ms. Clayton’s mouth dropped open and he could practically hear her internal squeal at the thought of getting a real desk chair. Lucy didn’t appear as excited, not that his perception meant anything. She could be just as thrilled, but she wouldn’t show it.
“We don’t need hand-me-downs from Stevens and Ellis,” she said, stepping back toward her office.
“Uh, yeah, we do,” Ms. Clayton said, giving Dylan a pat on the shoulder. “This is really kind of you.”
Lucy let out a harsh, derisive laugh. “He’s trying to bribe us, Paige! We don’t take bribes, Dylan. It’s unethical for your firm to give us anything.”
“This is a personal donation. I bought them from Stevens and Ellis with my own money, and I want you to have them. Would you like to see the receipt?” He pulled a sheet of paper from his back pocket.
“Personal donations are completely ethical. We accept, Mr. Hunt,” Ms. Clayton said. “Bring those babies in here.”
Dylan’s guys brought in all the new office furniture and helped remove all the broken, worn-out stuff. Ms. Clayton smiled ear to ear while Lucy stood with arms crossed and a scowl on her face. This had to mean she was unhappy, but Dylan noticed she swapped her desk chair for a new one. She never did what he expected; at least that much was predictable about her.
Once everything was in place, he sent his hired hands away and made Ms. Clayton one more offer she couldn’t possibly refuse.
“I noticed there are a couple of things that could use fixing around here.” Dylan pointed to the hole in the wall by the entrance and the broken light fixture above Ms. Clayton’s assistant’s desk. “I have a friend who could help me get these things patched up for you in no time.”
“We don’t have a budget for repairs right now,” Ms. Clayton said, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Thank you for offering, though.”
“Oh, no, it would be another donation,” Dylan clarified. “I would take care of all the materials. Eugene and I would do the work ourselves.”
“You would do the handiwork?” Lucy leaned against her doorjamb.
He tried not to be offended. His Mr. Fix-It side hadn’t shown itself until after she left him. She didn’t have to act so surprised by it, though.
“Is that really so hard to believe?”
She shrugged as if it didn’t matter any way. Lucy didn’t care about what he could or couldn’t do. She simply wanted him gone. He needed to make this deal for Prime Developments and then he would leave her alone.
Ms. Clayton was pretty much putty in his hands. Her smile was large and grateful. “Sometimes I feel like this place is falling apart around me and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be a big deal for me to help out. I’m one of those guys who sees a need and likes to fill it.”
Lucy let out another sarcastic guffaw and turned to her boss. “Please tell me you see what ‘need’