“I don’t know. I love the idea of the preventative project I told you about for returning vets with substance abuse issues related to PTSD and depression, and it seems like a wonderful place to work. I’m going over there tomorrow to have Colleen show me around. Afterward, I’m going to help Eric out with an unexpected rush of intake exams,” Deidre said, referring to Colleen’s physician boyfriend, Eric Reyes, whom Deidre strongly suspected would be her fiancé very soon. “The Family Center is running on a skeleton staff during the holiday season. I’ve kept my nursing license active in Michigan, so it worked out great.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mari enthused, dark eyes sparkling with the excitement of future plans.
Deidre laughed. “Don’t plan on writing me a paycheck yet. I feel like I’m being tossed around by fate at the moment. My future seems so uncertain right now.”
She suddenly realized that if Nick didn’t contest the will, she’d be in a position to fund the project at the Family Center and many more like it. Funny, she’d never really thought of that possibility until now. It just all seemed so unlikely, so incongruous. She—a billionaire.
“Deidre? Are you okay?” Mari asked.
She blinked, realizing she was frowning. She laughed and kissed Riley’s cheek when the little girl crawled into her lap and used Deidre’s shoulders to pull herself into a standing position. Riley squealed and giggled when Deidre gave her a big hug. She’d never been so flattered and moved in her life when Marc and Mari had asked her to be the little girl’s godmother. They’d even made Riley’s middle name the same as Deidre’s.
“I’m sorry,” she said, bouncing Riley on her knee. “I’m really not myself lately.”
“Understandable,” Mari soothed. “You’re life has been turned upside down within a matter of months. You should take some time off for rest and reflection. But I’m still thinking about Christmas. Will you go to Brigit’s?” she asked delicately. “I know how much she wants you to come.”
Deidre sighed, guilt and defiance sweeping through her in equal measure. She was growing increasingly familiar with the feeling, since she had experienced it in distilled form every time she’d noticed her mother had called her cell phone yesterday. She’d left every call unanswered. “I don’t know. Maybe,” Deidre murmured noncommittally. In truth, she wasn’t sure what she’d do for Christmas. She didn’t know if she was ready to return to the Kavanaugh house on Sycamore Avenue or to make amends with Brigit.
Marc joined them a minute later. He held up an envelope.
“Lincoln DuBois’s will,” he told Deidre. “I guess Nick Malone dropped it off at the front desk while we were at lunch. I’ll look it over, then have a friend of mine who specializes in estate law go over it with a fine-tooth comb. I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
“That’d be great. Thank you, Marc.”
Marc eyed her worriedly. “Please don’t agree to anything Nick asks of you until you talk it over with me. I’m not crazy about leaving Harbor Town while he’s here. I don’t trust him. It’s just our luck that Liam left town for his honeymoon the day after Malone arrived,” Marc said, referring to Liam’s job as the Harbor County police chief.
Deidre gave her brother a teasing grin. “There’s no need for you to worry. Nick’s presence here may be strange, but I hardly think he’s going to resort to criminal activity.”
“Do you have any interest whatsoever in running DuBois Enterprises?” Marc asked, his expression remaining serious.
“Look at it like this. If an alien landed in your front yard and asked you if you’d like to run their planet, what would you say? That’s pretty much how I feel about this whole situation. I know absolutely nothing about business. Sure, I’d like to learn something about Lincoln’s company, understand it better, but run it?” Deidre asked wryly, glancing from Marc to Mari.
“Just the fact that you’re interested in DuBois Enterprises says something. Don’t let Malone influence you. You’re still in shock about everything that’s happened to you. He might take advantage of that.”
“Come on, Marc. You know as well as anyone I can take care of myself.”
“We’re talking about a hell of a lot of money here, and ten times as much power. It’s not a world we’re accustomed to, Dee. Who knows what people will do when the stakes are so high?”
Deidre laughed. “I said almost the exact same thing to Colleen yesterday.” Her expression sobered as she studied her brother. “Marc—I’m worried about what could happen with your campaign if news gets out about the will. When things go public, there’s a good chance the truth about Mom and Lincoln’s affair, not to mention a lurid rehashing of the car crash, is going to show up in the papers. The Kavanaugh name could be dragged through the mud all over again.”
Mari gave a small groan and looked at her husband anxiously. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“It’s not like the Kavanaughs haven’t been on the receiving end of bad press before,” Marc reminded both of them, pausing to stroke his wife’s shoulder in reassurance. After Derry had caused the car wreck due to drunk driving, his name and reputation had been battered by the press. The Kavanaugh family had suffered by association. “As a matter of fact, my opponent in the Cook County prosecutor race brought up Dad’s responsibility for the wreck, trying to use it for fuel. I’m used to mudslinging on the campaign trail.”
“But it could ruin your chances for a win,” Deidre protested.
Marc and Mari exchanged a significant glance.
“Marc’s right,” Mari said resolutely. “You have enough on your mind as it is without worrying about the outcome of Marc’s race.” When Marc swung his giggling daughter into his arms and changed the subject, Deidre took the hint and didn’t belabor the topic, although she was far from being reassured.
She’d promised to pick up Liam and Natalie’s mail while they were on their honeymoon in Turks and Caicos. By the time Deidre returned to Cedar Cottage later that afternoon, the snow had picked up. It wasn’t enough to make conditions hazardous yet, but Deidre was glad to be getting home.
Would Nick show up here at the cottage to take her to dinner, she wondered as she went into the cottage. He hadn’t called, but that wasn’t too surprising, given the fact she’d never told him her number. She supposed she should, given their strange, probably impermanent partnership at DuBois Enterprises.
She took a hot bath and dressed in a pair of jeans and a favorite soft, cotton cable-knit sweater. To her dismay, she found herself spending way too much time on her makeup, accentuating the color and shape of her eyes with liner and subtle eye shadow. When she realized what she was doing, she irritably threw the makeup in a bag and stalked out of the bathroom.
What was she doing, primping for Nick Malone?
She was convinced she was indifferent to his arrival when a knock came at her door a little after six o’clock.
She was entirely uncaring about seeing him, that is, until she opened her front door and saw him standing on the dim porch, snow dusting his hair and jacket, and holding the trunk of a perfectly shaped, six-foot pine tree and a huge bag from Shop and Save.
“I thought you might like a Christmas tree,” he stated simply.
She blinked in amazement, transferring her gaze from the tree to his face. She was stunned. Had he noticed last night—that flash of longing she’d tried to hide when they’d talked about childhood Christmases? Had he noticed months ago, at The Pines, when she’d conversed with Lincoln?
She knew