Chapter 11

Ashlyn

The night after the gala was the first night Thebes and I didn't make love. I mean, don't get me wrong, I would've been totally on board with some high-level distraction techniques.

If I could've managed to stop crying.

Hell, maybe his touch would've helped with that and the way I kept randomly bursting into tears, but it was like he knew that's not what I needed. What I needed was his comfort, and he gave it to me.

After my stepfather made that horrible pronouncement—in front of the whole town!—and stomped out, I found myself unable to stop crying. It was anger and fear and despair all rolled into one. I cried for myself and my lost future, and my mother and her lost past…and the town of Eastshore, which was going to be irrevocably changed if Patti's and Pastabilities and the B I could see it in their expressions. But they were here because they loved this town, and if Eastshore was going down, and they had no way to stop it, then the least they could do was be here to witness it.

I could understand that.

I could relate to it.

And even though I wanted to cry, just thinking of the strength it took them to overcome their fear made me stronger. I lifted my chin and marched toward that table.

I paused, however, uncertain if I should face my stepfather directly, and Thebes stepped forward. He pulled back the chair on Dad's left , as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and I nodded my thanks.

I slid into the chair, facing both of them. My adversaries, to whom I'd lost.

But I would hold my head high and face defeat with dignity, for the sake of all these people watching .

"Good morning, Miss Anderson," said my stepfather coldly. "So nice of you to make it."

I wanted to make a snide remark about not fetching his coffee or you didn't give me much choice , but I tried to keep my expression as neutral as possible.

Suddenly, Thebes was beside me. I hadn't realized he'd left until he pulled the chair out and sat next to me…and placed something on the table between us.

I glanced down and felt my throat closing up.

It was the framed picture of my parents, Mom beaming at the camera like it was the happiest day of her life.

Here in Eastshore.

I raised my gaze to my stepfather, the man who'd married her after my father had died…and I was surprised to see something like pain in his gaze as he stared at that photo. He shut his eyes and shook his head just slightly. I watched him swallow, and when he opened his eyes and glared at me, I wondered if I'd imagined it.

"You have the papers?" he asked, and even though he was looking at me, I knew he meant Martin, who hurried to unsnap the lid of his briefcase.

I finally dragged my attention away from my stepfather when Martin spread the contracts over the table and held a pen across the table to me. In a bit of a daze, I reached to take it.

Oooh , it was one of those nice pens, heavy and probably wrote really smooth—

Focus, Ashlyn .

Right.

Right. Sign the contracts.

Thebes's hand rested on my knee, hidden beneath the table. The weight was comforting.

"Sign and date here," Martin was saying, pointing to the line at the bottom. "And here. "

I hesitated, and when Thebes spoke up, I could've kissed him. "Why does she have to sign at all?"

When it seemed like every eye in the room had turned to him, he shrugged and grinned good-naturedly. "The sale is between Cinders, Inc. and the buyers this guy represents, right? Ashlyn is a vice president in the company—why is she signing the sale papers instead of the CEO?"

My stepfather planted his palms on the table and leaned forward, his glare the glare of a guy who'd spent decades intimidating cold-hearted businessmen. "I don't see how that is any of your concern."

But Thebes just shrugged, showing none of the rage I'd been able to feel from him last night, thank goodness. The last thing I needed right now, as the words of the contract swam in front of me, was a pissing contest between these two.

"I'm just saying that Ashlyn should have the chance to look over what she's signing, right?"

"She had all week," my stepfather snapped.

"And you know as well as I that she couldn't read a contract with font that tiny and cramped," Thebes shot right back. "Was that the plan?" He turned to me. "Do you want me to read them for you, Ashlyn?"

I felt some of the tension drain from my shoulders, as if I'd been given a stay of execution. "Would you—" I began but was interrupted by the door slamming open.

"Wait!" The shout came from Meli, who was breathing heavily as if she'd run the whole way. She clutched her phone in one hand and stumbled, panting to the table.

Thebes was already standing to assist her when Meli collapsed into the chair and fiddled with her phone's stand with shaking hands.

"Meli—" I began, but she shook her head.

"Just…give me…a…got it, whew ." With a triumphant grin, she turned the phone around to face us. "Tell them what you just told me."

It took a moment to realize she was speaking to the woman on the screen of her phone. She must've been in a video call this whole time, which would've been disconcerting if she'd been running and bobbing around…

Focus .

On the screen of the phone, a composed blonde woman sat at a desk, her hands folded in front of her. She stared at the camera with a neutral expression, but I could see she meant business.

"Um…hello?" I asked.

"Hello, Ashlyn," she said politely. "I'm Harper, Meli's sister."

My lawyer? A surge of hope flashed through me. "Did you read the contracts?"

"Excuse me," my stepfather bit in icily. "But who in the hell are you?"

"I'm Harper O'Donnell, of Clay, Bunting and O'Donnell. I represent Ms. Anderson—"

"Like hell you do," Dad bit out. "Her lawyer is the same as mine, she's always used the same firm the company does—"

Harper interrupted with a cold glare. "Whom I'm sure would never tell her exactly what you want them to tell her, correct?"

My stepfather's mouth snapped shut.

"Have the contracts been signed yet?" Harper asked me, and I mutely shook my head.

Her smile made that hope blossom again, and I realized I'd dropped my hand to my knee so I could twine my fingers through Thebes's.

"Ashlyn," Harper began slowly, "these contracts are far more complicated than necessary. I am not an expert on contract law, but I read through them last night, and I don't believe your stepfather is being honest with you."

Regular contracts were bad enough, but there was no wonder these things gave me headaches.

I felt myself leaning forward eagerly. "Do you know why I have to be here? Why I have to sign them, if I'm not involved in the sale?"

Harper's expression turned a little confused. "Because you are involved in the sale." When I just blinked at her, her voice softened. "Ashlyn, you're the owner of these three blocks of Eastshore. The property is yours, as are the rents. If your father wants to sell the property, he needs your approval."

Without thinking, I lunged forward and grabbed the contracts, yanking them toward myself.

I mean, I dunno why I thought that would help—it was still complete nonsense. My heart was hammering in my chest as I tried to make sense of what Harper had said—was still saying.

"Your mother owned this property, Ashlyn. She left it to you."

Around me, I could hear whispering, and Thebes's presence was a warm comfort as he looked over my shoulder at the papers. But it still didn't make any sense.

Shaking my head, I looked between my stepfather—whose expression was carefully neutral—to Harper. "My mother…" I didn't understand. "These properties are mine ?"

Across the table, Martin cleared his throat. "Am I correct in understanding, Ms. Anderson, that you were unaware these buildings are in your name? You were unaware you were signing contracts to sell them?"

Thebes spoke for me. "She has severe dyslexia and can't read the contracts herself." His voice was tight with anger again. "Ashlyn relied—naively, it seems—on her father to tell her the truth about what the contracts contain." He tapped a finger against the paper. "Right here, honey, it says that you are the seller."

Oh my God .

"I would've signed it," I whispered, wide-eyed in horror at how close I came to disaster. "Oh my God!" My gaze snapped to my stepfather, and suddenly all those roiling emotions coalesced into anger. "I would have signed the papers because you told me to!"

"Yes," he agreed calmly. "Because you know I have your best interests at heart."

"How?" I screeched, resisting the urge to throw the pen at him. It was heavy; it would make a dent. " How is this in my best interests? To sell my own property without even knowing about it?"

He merely shrugged. "Because these properties are aging, a stupid inheritance. The money you'll gain from them is so much better—"

"I can't believe you'd do this without telling me!" Thebes's hand tightened on my knee, but I wasn't sure if he was trying to hold me back or lend me strength. "All these years you've been lying to me!"

This is what my mom had meant for me to have…this slice of Eastshore, the place that made her so happy.

Blindly, I groped for the picture of my grinning mother and thrust it at the man she'd married.

"Mom left these for me , made you the executor of the trust until I turn thirty next month!"

Harper cleared her throat. When I turned my attention to her, she tapped her finger against a stack of paper on her desk, but otherwise appeared unhurried. "Actually, you inherited these properties when you turned twenty-five. William Cinders, as the executor of your trust, has been lying and misappropriating the funds and property for almost five years."

Holy shit…

Holy shit .

This little slice of Eastshore—and my mom's history—had been mine for five years, and I hadn't known it? I whirled on my stepfather, shock on my face, to find him scowling at me and the photo of my mother I clutched.

"You wouldn't have known how to manage them," he barked preemptively. "I was helping you."

I opened my mouth, but no sound emerged. I was stuck someplace between shock and anger.

I might not be able to read tiny contract fonts, but I had adaptive technology and more importantly, friends . I would've been able to handle my mother's legacy perfectly fine, if my evil stepfather had given me the chance.

As Harper hummed and said, "We'll see if the judge feels the same way," the realization hit me like a five-pound hammer, knocking the air out of my lungs: there were years' worth of rents someplace, weren't there? All this time, I didn't have to slave away for my stepfather; I could've been living on the income from these properties…which my mother had left me.

"You bastard," I whispered, switching my gaze from my stepfather to my parents' smiling faces. "You took this from me to keep me tied to you, didn't you?"

I couldn't even look at him.

But I heard my stepfather push away from the table and stand. "Your little lawyer friend thinks she can fight me on this—"

"Oh, I can, Mr. Cinders, and I will," said Harper lightly. "You'll be receiving a schedule of reparations. But for now, I believe you'll agree that these negotiations are over. There's no need for you to be here, since you have no say over these properties."

I finally looked up in time to see my scowling stepfather stomping away from the table, and for the first time in ten minutes, I felt as if I could finally take a deep breath.

Across the table, Martin Van Staamp was pulling his briefcase back out. "Ms. Anderson," he asked quietly, "can I assume from our earlier conversation that you, as the owner of these properties, have no interest in selling to my clients?"

"No," I whispered.

Slowly, I lifted my chin, a sense of rightness, of certainty , spreading through me. " No ," I repeated, turning to face Thebes. "I'm not going to sell. In fact, I'm going to start a foundation, a trust, to preserve the history of Eastshore, and I'm going to head it up."

There was so much pride in Thebes's smile that I could feel my heart swelling.

"As the Executive Vice President of Synergistic Coordination?"

My grin grew as well. "As the fucking president . I might not be able to read complicated documents—"

"But you'll be the best damn president the Eastshore Historical Society has ever seen!" he finished for me.

And when I threw myself into his arms, he whooped. The sound seemed to trigger the celebrations all around the room, and I heard Meli sigh as she scooped up her phone and said, "You were incredible, Harper, thank you."

I was going to thank Harper too—and figure out how to pay her more than a dollar—as soon as I could tear myself out of my Mate's arms.

Which might be never.

"I love you," Thebes whispered.

I pressed my cheek to his shoulder and cradled the picture of my parents between us. "I love you too. Thank you so much for being here."

"Hey." His fingers cupped my chin, nudging my gaze to his, and I saw the flare of green deep in the depths of his dark eyes. "I'm always going to be here for you, Ashlyn. Always . And so will Eastshore."

My smile was a little crooked. "So does that mean you don't mind me moving in with you?"

From the way his expression suddenly turned serious, and his nostrils flared, and his chest expanded, I knew he was feeling some Big Feelings. His arms tightened around me.

"Mind my Mate just declaring herself in front of everyone? Mind the privilege of getting to provide for my Mate every day for the rest of our lives? I don't think so."

I loved the sound of that.

"I love you," I whispered again just as his lips claimed mine.

Mate.