As for Paul Dunne, he was Lilly’s problem. Once she took control of her inheritance, it was only a matter of time before she realized what had been going on for all these years. Then she’d have to deal with Paul Dunne, trustee. The thought gave Marc little comfort.
He wasn’t a saint, only a flawed man and a recovering alcoholic to boot. He couldn’t help but admit everything would be so much simpler if Lilly had remained dead.
God, he needed a drink.
THE ENGAGEMENT PARTY for Lacey’s uncle Marc was to be held in her childhood home.
Her uncle had been living in her parents’ house all these years, sitting by the fireplace in the den, eating in her mother’s beloved kitchen, and those were just two of what she knew were many other personal violations. All things that had been easier to put out of her mind when she lived three hours and a lifetime away than now when she had to dress for her return.
Because Lacey dated a businessman, she owned a few nice outfits, but she hadn’t brought them with her on this trip. She planned a quick trip to a mall in the next town over to buy something to wear. Hunter suggested she go with Molly—her uncle’s soon-to-be stepdaughter.
Although Lacey was wary of the woman based on her relationship with Marc Dumont, she trusted her best friend’s judgment. Hunter felt it important that the women meet and he believed they would get along well under any circumstances, including the one they found themselves in.
Lacey understood Hunter had dual motives. He wanted Molly to get to know Lacey and realize she wasn’t lying about the man her uncle had been—and probably still was. He also, along with Ty, didn’t want Lacey to be alone. Which was ridiculous since she’d been on her own for years.
Still, since it meant so much to them and since she missed having a close female friend around, Lacey had agreed to meet up with Molly at the local mall. It was hard to admit but she didn’t have many close women friends. She worked but not in an office where she could meet people her own age. Her employees were mostly young women who didn’t speak a lot of English and Lacey knew better than to make friends out of people who worked for her. Befriending her clients would have been as professionally ill-advised, and so other than Alex, she spent a lot of time alone. A part of her was looking forward to this shopping trip.
And not just for herself. Because when Hunter had spoken of Molly, Lacey had noticed a spark in his eyes she’d never seen before and his lips had curved into a smile. Hunter had a thing for this woman and Lacey wanted to see why. And she wanted to make sure Molly wasn’t going to break her friend’s heart. He’d been too good to her in the past and too protective of her now for Lacey not to feel the same way. She wanted the best for him and despite the other woman’s connection to Marc Dumont, Lacey hoped Molly was it.
She met Molly outside the Starbucks in the mall. Lacey knew Molly immediately based on Hunter’s description of a pretty brunette with a fondness for bold colors in her clothing and shoes. The other woman’s bright red top was one indicator, but she still could have been anybody. Her unique-looking red cowboy boots gave her away.
“Molly?” Lacey asked, walking up beside her.
The other woman turned. “Lacey?”
Lacey nodded. “Nice to meet you. Hunter’s told me a lot about you.”
Molly swallowed hard. “Unfortunately I can’t say the same. Most of my info rmation’s come from—”
“My uncle.”
Molly treated her to an awkward nod.
“Let’s shop,” Lacey suggested. If she spent bonding time with Molly, she hoped the discomfort would ease and maybe they’d get to know one another better.
Lacey’s idea worked. What had begun as an awkward greeting changed over the course of shopping, lunch, and chitchat. Molly was warm and fun with a great sense of humor. Lacey enjoyed their day and now they sat at a table in Starbucks drinking lattes. They talked, if not like old friends, then not like adversaries, either. They hadn’t discussed the past, which was fine with Lacey. She knew eventually she’d have to explain things, but just not right now.
Molly wrapped her hand around her grande-sized cup and met Lacey’s gaze. “I love shopping,”
she said, relaxing in her seat.
“It isn’t something I do much. Just for the basics,” Lacey said. “I work too much to have time for shopping as recreation.”
Molly smiled. “You’re a saver, I’m a spender. I think it comes from not having a lot while growing up. I crave the luxuries, not that I can afford them. Thank goodness for credit cards,”
she said laughing.
“Amen.” Lacey grinned. She had no intention of revealing she tried hard to charge little and pay off fast. She hated being in debt. She’d lived from hand to mouth for so long, she rarely let herself let go. Even though, these days, she could afford to do so now and again.
“I have to admit you’re different than I thought you’d be.” Molly’s astute gaze appraised Lacey without shame.
Apparently it was time to discuss the past. “You mean because I don’t have the word ‘trouble’
stamped on my forehead?” Lacey asked, laughing.
The other woman grinned. “At least not anymore.”
So now they’d reached the crux of things. “I wasn’t trouble then, either. What do you think of Hunter?” Lacey asked, the subject change not as off topic as it seemed.
Molly’s brows furrowed. “I thought he was a good guy.”
“He is a good guy. And you must still think so or you wouldn’t be here with me, right?” Lacey asked. Molly’s views on Lacey might be skewed, but if she trusted Hunter, she couldn’t believe every lie Marc Dumont had fed her.
“I have many reasons to want to get to know you better. They don’t all involve Hunter.” Molly absently blotted some spilled coffee from the table.
Lacey knew her uncle was the other reason. “Do you want to know what happened back then? It might help you understand Hunter better.”
Molly nodded, but she eyed Lacey warily, obviously uncertain of whether to believe whatever she was about to hear.
Lacey decided to keep the story short and succinct. She summed up her life, her time with her uncle, her stint in foster care with Ty and Hunter, and their elaborate plan to fake her death to prevent her from being returned by the state to her uncle’s care. But she couldn’t stop the occasional lump that rose in her throat or crack in her voice as she told the tale.