Jack’s phone beeped while they ate their eggs. He scooped it up, read it, and then handed it to her. “There was a problem with buying the store and Peter wants us to go to his house.”
Strange. Her lips pursed and she met his blue eyes. “Let’s finish breakfast and get going.”
“Absolutely.” He picked his fork back up.
The delicious meal filled her up but she’d have to start working out once she was no longer on vacation.
She sipped her coffee and watched Jack as he finished his toast. “I thought it was a done deal though,” she said. “I’m curious what happened.”
He gulped his coffee as if in a hurry and pushed his chair back. “Me too. Are you ready?”
She stood with him, but tugged his belt loops to keep her near him as she said, “One minute. I love you.”
Jack kissed her soundly and he tasted better than any of the food she’d just had, even the sweet mimosa. As the kiss ended, he took her hand to walk beside her. “Once we deal with whatever Peter has to say, you and I are going on a date.”
“I’m in,” she said, though she wasn’t sure why a date was so important to him.
They went outside and a limo whisked them off to an island with only one bridge to the highway… the island was covered in gorgeous mansions for the super wealthy.
Mansions seemed too mild a word for these lovely homes that were more like private estates.
The limo pulled into the circular drive of a white home that sort of resembled the White House.
Part of her felt hollow, like she was a fraud who didn’t belong on the island, but Jack scooted out and waited for her. They walked to the double black doors and servants let them in.
Her gaze went right, to a blue glass sculpture, and she hugged Jack closer as they were escorted across a great tiled expanse to a side room. When the butler opened the door, she saw a glass desk, a shining white marble floor, and a view of the water and Miami’s downtown skyline from the long window.
Wow. She shook Peter’s hand and said, “Your home is amazing.”
Peter glanced at Jack and explained, “This was our father’s house.”
They settled into white leather chairs across from the desk where Peter took his seat while Jack said, “My mother had a three-bedroom colonial we all shared. Nothing like this.”
“Please sit,” Peter said and then blushed as he reached for a file and realized they’d already done that.
Jack scooted to the edge of his seat. “What’s going on?”
Peter opened the file and handed it to her. Charlotte’s eyes widened as Peter said, “I have a copy of Charlotte’s father’s will.”
Huh? She’d been certain this would be about Jack, but no, Peter had been talking about her dad. She opened the file, scanned the papers, and saw her father’s name on the legal document. “How did you get this?”
He tapped his pen against the desk. “My lawyers dug it up for the property transaction—they needed the deed.”
“Can I read this?” She pointed to the paper in front of her--she had to see this for herself.
Peter twirled his pen between his fingers. “Have you read it before?”
Jack patted her knee, as if to ensure that she knew he was there for her. She said, “No. I thought it was lost.”
Halfway down the official legal document she saw her name next to the name of the store. She met Peter’s gaze, conflicted at her upbringing with Nancy. Her father had told her the truth all those years ago--she was to have the store. “Wait. The store was mine all along?”
“Turn the page,” Peter instructed while he continued to play with his pen. “There was a letter attached directed toward you. Read that and then we’ll talk.”
Jack’s nearness kept her from trembling as she flipped the paper.
Her father’s handwriting. She’d almost forgotten how he crossed his t’s. She settled into her seat as goosebumps grew on her body and read,
Charlotte,
