Flirting With Pete: A Novel Read Online Free Page B

It’s worth three million. That’s your legacy, Ms. Ellis.”
    Casey didn’t doubt the value of the house. It sat in a coveted spot in Leeds Court, itself a coveted spot on Beacon Hill. She had been past it many times. In not one of those passes, though, had the idea that she might one day own it ever crossed her mind.
    “Have you ever been inside?” the lawyer asked.
    “No.”
    “It’s a beautiful place.”
    “I already have a place.”
    “You could sell that one.”
    “And take on a larger mortgage?”
    “There’s no mortgage here. Dr. Unger owned the townhouse outright.”
    And he was giving it to Casey? A three-million-dollar home that was all paid for? There had to be a catch. “Upkeep, then— heat, air-conditioning. And taxes— property taxes alone are probably twice my yearly mortgage payments.”
    “There’s a trust fund for taxes. And for the household help. There’s also parking, two spaces in back with private access, two on the Court itself, all paid for. As for heat and the rest, he had the confidence that you could handle those yourself.”
    She certainly could— or could have, if Stuart Bell hadn’t absconded with seven months’ rent. “Why?”
    “Why what?”
    “Why is he doing this? Why such a lavish gift after nothing all these years?”
    “I don’t know the answer to that.”
    “Does his wife know that he’s given me this?”
    “Yes.”
    “And she doesn’t object?”
    “No. She was never part of the townhouse. She made out very well in his will without it.”
    “How long has she known about me?”
    “A while.”
    Casey felt a stab of bitterness. “And she couldn’t call me herself to tell me about his death? I had to read it in the paper. That didn’t feel good.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Did he order her not to contact me?”
    The lawyer sighed, seeming to weary a bit. “I don’t know that. Your father was a complicated man. I don’t think any of us knew who he was inside. Ruth— his wife— came as close as anyone did, but you know how they lived.”
    Casey did. She didn’t know whether she felt worse for her own mother, who had lost Connie Unger before she ever had him, or for Connie’s wife, who once had had him but lost him.
    “Seems to me,” Casey declared, “that the man was no bargain.”
    “Maybe not,” the lawyer replied and rose. “In any event, the house is yours. Everything’s been transferred to your name. I’ll have a courier deliver the papers to you tomorrow. I’d suggest you put them in a vault.”
    Casey remained seated. “I don’t have a vault.”
    “I do. Would you like me to hold them for you?”
    “Please.”
    Winnig pulled a business card from his pocket. “Here’s where I am.”
    Casey took the card. “What about his… things? Are they all there?”
    “Personal things, yes. He arranged for Emmett Walsh to take over his practice, so the computer, client files, and Rolodex have all gone to him.”
    A distant little bubble burst. From time to time, it had held a dream. As the dream went, one day Connie would come to respect her as a professional, enough to refer clients to her. Even make her his protégée. Even invite her to share his practice, making it a father-daughter group.
    The disappointment was brief. The dream, after all, had never received an ounce of encouragement. “Ah,” she managed. Still, she didn’t rise.
    “You look pale,” the lawyer said. “Are you all right?”
    She nodded. “Just a little startled.”
    He smiled. “Run over and take a look inside the place. It has a certain charm.”

    *
    Casey couldn’t go that day. She saw clients straight through until eight, at which time she pushed the issue of the townhouse farther back in her mind and joined her partners in the conference room. Cornelius Unger, the epitome of decorum, would have cringed at the scene that ensued. The mood was adversarial from the start. The group had often had internal differences, but those differences were now magnified