Rags To Riches Baby

When she blushed, the freckles seemed to fade away against the crimson marring her pale skin. And the more irritated she got, the edges of her ears and her chest would flush pink as well.

With her arms crossed so defensively over her chest, it drew her rosy cleavage to his attention. In that area, she had the cute barista beat. Lucy wasn’t a particularly curvy woman—she was on the slim side. Almost boyish through the hips. But the way she was standing put the assets she did have on full display with her clingy V-neck sweater.

“Irises are my mother’s favorite flower,” Lucy said as she followed him into the library, oblivious to the direction of his thoughts.

Or perhaps not. She kept a few feet away from him, which made him smile. She was so easy to fluster. It made him want to seek out other ways to throw her off guard. He wondered how she would react when she was at the mercy of his hands and mouth on her body.

“I’ve always appreciated this piece for its sentimental value.”

When Oliver turned to look at her, he found Lucy was completely immersed in her admiration of the painting. He almost felt guilty for thinking about ravishing her while she spoke about her mother. Almost.

It wasn’t like he would act on the compulsion, anyway. His lawyer would have a fit if he immediately seduced the woman he’d decided to sue the day before. He did want to get to know her better, though. Not because he was curious about her, but because he wanted to uncover her secrets. He knew what Harper and Aunt Alice had thought of her, but he was after the truth.

This sweet-looking woman with the blushing cheeks and deep appreciation of art was a scam artist and he was going to expose her, just like he should’ve exposed Candace before his father was left in ruins with a toddler. He was too late to protect Aunt Alice, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t put things right.

Turning to look at Lucy, he realized she was no longer admiring the painting, but looking at him with a curious expression on her face. “What?” he asked.

“I asked what you thought of it.”

He turned back to the painting and shrugged. “It’s a little sloppy. How much is it worth?”

“Your aunt bought it many years ago at a lower price, but if it went to auction today...probably as much as this apartment.”

That caught his attention. Oliver turned back to the wall, looking for a reason why this little painting would be worth so much. “That’s ridiculous.” And he meant it. “No wonder my cousin Wanda was so upset about you getting all of Aunt Alice’s personal belongings as well as the cash. She’s got a fortune’s worth of art in here.”

Lucy didn’t bother arguing with him. “It was her passion. And it was mine. That’s why we got along so well. Perhaps why she decided to leave it to me. I would appreciate it instead of liquidating it all for the cash.”

Oliver twisted his lips in thought. It sounded good, but it was one thing to leave a friend with common interests a token. A half-a-billion-dollar estate was something completely different. “Do you really think that’s all it was?”

She turned to him with a frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, do you honestly expect everyone to believe that she just up and changed her will to leave her employee everything instead of her family, and you had nothing to do with it? You just had common interests?”

Lucy’s dark eyes narrowed at him, and her expression hardened. “Yes, that’s what I expect everyone to believe because that is what happened. I’m not sure why you’re such a cynical person, but not everyone in the world is out there to manipulate someone else. I’m certainly not.”

This time, Lucy’s sharp barb hit close to home. Perhaps he was pessimistic and became that way because life had taught him to be, but that didn’t mean he was wrong about her. “I’m not cynical, Lucy, I simply have my eyes open. I’m not blinded by whatever charms you’ve worked on my sister and my aunt. I see a woman with nothing walking away from this situation with half a billion dollars. You had to have done something. She didn’t leave the housekeeper anything. You’re telling me you’re just that special?”

The hard expression on Lucy’s face started to crumble at his harsh words, making him feel a pang of guilt for half a second. Of course, she could just be trying to manipulate him like she did everyone else.

“Not at all,” she said with a sad shake of her head. “I don’t think I’m special. I’m as ordinary as people come. I wish Alice had explained to me and everyone else why she was doing what she did, but she left that as a mystery for us all. There’s nothing I can do about it. You can take me to court and try to overturn her last wishes. Maybe you will be successful. I can’t control that. But know that no matter what the judge decides, I had nothing to do with it. Just because you don’t believe it, doesn’t make it any less true.”

Boy, she was good. The more she talked, the more he wanted to believe her. There was a sincerity in her large doe eyes and unassuming presence. It was no wonder everyone seemed to fall prey to her charms. He’d thought at first she wasn’t as skilled and cunning as Candace, but he was wrong. She’d simply chosen to target an older, vulnerable woman instead of a lonely, vulnerable man. A smarter choice, if you asked his opinion. She didn’t have to pretend to be in love with a man twice her age.

“You’re very good.” He spoke his thoughts aloud and took a step closer to her. “When I first saw you at Phillip’s office with your big eyes and your innocent and indignant expression, I thought perhaps you were an amateur that I could easily trip up, but now I see I’m going up against a professional con artist.” He took another step, leaving only inches between them. “But that doesn’t mean you’re going to win.”

Lucy didn’t pull back this time; she held her ground. “The mistake you’re making is thinking that I care, Oliver.”

“You’re honestly going to stand there and tell me that you don’t care whether you get the apartment, the Monet and everything else?”

“I am,” she said with a defiant lift of her chin. Her dark eyes focused on him, drawing him into their brown depths. “See, the difference between you and me is that I’ve never had anything worth losing. If I walk out this door with nothing more than I came in with, my life goes on as usual. And that’s what I expect to happen. To be honest, I can’t even imagine having that kind of money. This whole thing seems like a dream I’m going to wake up from and I’ll go back to being Lucy, the broke friend that can never afford the girls trips and expensive clothes her friends wear. Things like this don’t happen to people like me, and the people in the world with all the money and power—people like you—are happy to keep it that way.”

“You’re saying it’s my fault if you don’t get your way?”

“Not my way. Alice’s way. And yes. You’re the only one in the family that lawyered up.”

That was because he was the only one in the family with nerve. “Someone had to.”

“Well, then, you’ve made your choices, Oliver, and so have I. That said, I’m not sure there’s much else for us to say to one another. I think it’s time for you to go.”

Oliver raked his gaze over her stern expression and smirked. He didn’t have to leave. She had no more claim on the apartment than he did at this point. But it was too soon to push his luck. Besides, the more time he spent with her, the softer his resolve to crush her became. The closer he got, the more interested he was in breathing in the scent of her shampoo and touching her hand to see if her skin was as soft as it appeared. He would have to tread very carefully where Lucy was concerned or he’d get lured into her web just like the others.

“I think you’re right,” he said, pulling away from her before he got even closer and did something he might regret, like kiss her senseless so he could feel her body melt into his. He walked through the gallery to the foyer and opened the door that led to the elevator.

“Until we meet again, Lucy Campbell.”

Three (#ua46c798d-2e51-58dd-a4da-5cb72c897b6a)

“I don’t know why you insisted on me wearing this dress, Harper. It’s a baby shower, not a cocktail party.”

As Lucy and Harper walked up the driveway of the sprawling Dempsey estate, she looked down at the white strapless frock her friend had practically pushed on her. It had taken nearly two hours to drive out to the property where Emma had grown up, and Lucy had doubted her clothing decision the whole way. Why they couldn’t have the party at the Dempseys’ apartment in Manhattan, she didn’t know.

Harper shook her head and dismissed Lucy’s concerns, as usual. “That J. Mendel dress is perfect for you. You look great. It’s always a good time to look great.”

“You need to print that on your business cards,” Lucy quipped.

Even then, she felt incredibly overdressed for a baby shower, but Harper insisted they dress up. It was a couples shower for their friend Emma and her new husband, Jonah. Since they were both single and the event was coed, Harper had got it in her head that they should look even cuter than usual, in case there were some single friends of Jonah’s there as well. At least that was what she’d said.

“You need to remember you’re not just the poor friend from Yale anymore, Lucy. You have to start acting like someone important because you are someone important. You were before the money, but now you have no excuse but to show the world how fabulous you are.”

Lucy sighed and shifted the wrapped gift in her arms. “I’m still the poor friend from Yale and I refuse to believe otherwise until there’s cash in my hand and in my bank accounts. Thanks to your brother, I may not get a dime.”

“We’ll see about that,” Harper said with a smirk curling her peach lips.

Oliver had made that same face when he visited the apartment the other day. The brief encounter had left her rattled to her core. Thankfully, no one else had decided to drop in unannounced. But seeing that expression on her friend brought an anxious ache back to her stomach. She intended to get some cake in her belly as soon as possible to smother it.

“Who does a couples baby shower anyway?” Lucy asked. “Any guy I know would hate this kind of thing.”

“Knowing Emma and her mother, this will be anything but the usual baby shower. It’s more of an event.”

Lucy paused at the steps leading up to the Dempsey mansion and caught the distant sounds of string music playing. Live music for a baby shower? They’d passed dozens of cars parked along the drive up to the house from the gate. “I think you may be right.”

They stepped inside the house together, taking the butler’s directions through the ornately decorated house to the ballroom. Lucy bit her tongue at the mention of a ballroom. Who, other than the house in the board game Clue, had an actual ballroom?

Apparently, the Dempseys.

They rounded a corner and were bombarded by the sound of a huge party in progress. Lucy was instantly aware that this was not the punch-and-cake gathering with cheesy baby shower games she was expecting. A string quartet was stationed in the corner on a riser. Round tables were scattered throughout the room with sterling gray linens and centerpieces filled with flowers in various shades of pink.

A serpentine table of food curved around the far corner of the space, flanked by a silver, three-tiered punch fountain on one end and an even taller cake on the other end. A mountain of gifts were piled onto tables in the opposite corner. There were easily a hundred people in the room milling around, and thankfully, most of them were dressed as nicely as she and Harper were.