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Authors: Cheryl Douglas

Tags: #romance, #love, #marriage, #pregnancy, #sexy, #contemporary, #baby, #rich, #divorce, #mature, #successful, #second chance, #cheryl douglas

Starting Over (5 page)

BOOK: Starting Over
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“That’s why I
need to grieve for her without the added drama of worrying about
where things stand between us.”

He couldn’t
blame her for needing time alone. Even though Sharon’s death was
inevitable, Alex knew a life without Sharon would seem
inconceivable to Eve. The first night they’d met, Eve had glowed
with pride when she talked about her larger-than-life aunt. Sharon
was her idol, and he could imagine how Eve felt now that she was
gone. Alex had felt the same way when his father died. His
determination to honor the old man’s memory had prompted him to
work so hard, to the exclusion of everything, including his
marriage. He knew that wasn’t what his father would have wanted.
His father had loved his family above all else, and he loved Eve.
He often told Alex she was the best thing that ever happened to
him.

“I’ll leave if
that’s what you want… on one condition.” He knew he was asking a
lot, but he felt—given everything they’d once meant to each
other—he wasn’t out of line. “Let me come back in a couple of
weeks. Take some time to grieve for Sharon, try to put our
relationship out of your mind if you feel that’s what you need to
do, but let me come back. Maybe once you’ve had a chance to process
everything, you’ll feel differently.”

“I don’t think
I will,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not that I’ve fallen out
of love with you. I haven’t. It’s just that your life is there, and
I think mine is here. I feel at home here, at peace. I know you may
not be able to understand that, and I don’t know how else to
explain it except to say my home isn’t with you anymore.” She
leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry if that sounds harsh. I
don’t want to hurt you. I just want to find a way to be happy
again, Alex.”

If he thought
he was the only thing standing between her and happiness, he would
let her go, but he believed he could make her happy again. “I still
want to come back in a couple of weeks. Tell me you’re okay with
that.”

“I don’t think
it’s going to change anything.”

“Maybe it will,
maybe it won’t. Only time will tell.” He knew during the next two
weeks, he would be praying for a miracle harder than he had ever
prayed for anything.

Chapter
Four

Eve couldn’t quash her
apprehension as she sat in her aunt’s study waiting for Sharon’s
long-time friend and attorney, Morris Richards. He’d called that
morning to offer his condolences and explain that he’d been out of
town visiting family and just learned of Sharon’s passing. He asked
to meet with Eve as soon as possible because Sharon had given him
strict instructions to carry out to the letter.

Eve smiled as
she imagined her aunt giving that directive to the crotchety old
lawyer. Sharon was sweet and compassionate, but she brooked no
argument when she’d made up her mind about something. Eve was
certain Morris saw that side of his friend when he advised her
against taking an action she’d already decided upon. Sharon lived
life according to her rules without giving a rip what anyone
thought about her, and Eve admired her even more as she struggled
to find her own identity again.

A soft knock on
the door had Eve sitting up straighter in the striped wingback by
the stone fireplace. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, cleared
her throat, and called out, “Come in.”

Morris poked
his head in the door, his shock of white hair as unruly as ever.
The attorney always looked like an unmade bed with his dated,
rumpled suits and his silver-framed glasses sliding down his
bulbous nose, but Sharon insisted he was as sharp as they came.
More importantly, she trusted him implicitly. “Myra let me in.” He
gripped his scarred black briefcase tightly.

Eve noticed he
was carrying a corrugated tube in his free hand. Before she could
imagine what it contained, she decided to face her fears. “What do
you have there?”

“We’ll get to
that,” he said, setting the briefcase and tube on the antique table
where Sharon often enjoyed her afternoon tea. He held out his hands
to Eve and she stood, accepting them with a forced smile. “I’m so
sorry for your loss, dear. Your aunt was one of the best women I’ve
ever known, and I know you meant the world to her. Having you here
during the last days of her life was a great comfort to her. I hope
you know that.”

On the verge of
tears, Eve simply nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Well then, I
guess we should get down to business.” He gestured toward the desk
Sharon had purchased in Rome. She’d had it shipped, insisting she
would have fantasized about it for the rest of her days if she
hadn’t bought it. “Have a seat.”

Eve looked at
the chocolate brown swivel chair. Gold studs lined the edges of the
leather and intricately carved arms and legs. Both pieces were
antiques, works of art according to her aunt. Sharon had loved
antique furniture. She said she liked to imagine all of the hours
spent by men who took great pride in their workmanship, treating
each piece as a legacy that would be around long after they were
gone. Eve had never known anyone else to occupy Sharon’s sacred
spot.

“I’d rather sit
here,” she said, gesturing to one of the guest chairs on the
opposite side of the desk. She sat and gave him a tight smile,
hoping he would let the subject go.

With a sad
smile, Morris said, “I know it’s hard for you. Sharon’s spirit will
always be in this house. I can feel it now, all around us.”

“So can I,” Eve
whispered. Her aunt had lovingly restored the inn, bringing it back
from years of neglect, and her stamp was on every square foot of
space. Every stick of furniture and stone pathway reminded her of
Sharon’s passion for life.

“That’s a good
thing,” Morris said, patting her hand as he claimed the seat next
to her. “It may not seem like it now while you’re still grieving,
but in time, it will be a comfort to you.”

Eve couldn’t
imagine a time when she wouldn’t grieve the loss of her aunt, but
she didn’t see the need to share that with Morris. He was there to
conduct business, and she would just as soon get on with it. She
needed a few moments to collect herself before having to face her
husband again. Alex was always at the forefront of her mind, just
as Sharon was. “I’m sure it will. You said we had some important
things to discuss…”

“Yes.” He moved
his briefcase to the desk before popping the old-fashioned brass
locks. “Your aunt spent a great deal of time on estate planning in
the last few months. She had very strong opinions about how she
wanted things dispersed.” Withdrawing a manila folder, he leaned
back in his chair, regarding Eve carefully. “As you know, your
aunt’s work made her a very wealthy woman.”

Sharon had
lived modestly, maintaining the inn meticulously and donating much
of her time and money to the local causes she loved. They rarely
spoke about money, but Eve knew Sharon’s multi-million dollar
contracts would have allowed her to live a lavish lifestyle if she
chose it. According to a recent article Eve read, Sharon’s
estimated net worth was approaching a hundred million dollars. When
the reporter asked her to confirm or refute the claim, Sharon
politely declined, telling him it was private. Eve said, “Yes, I
know.”

“Her causes
were near and dear to her heart, and she wanted to continue to
support them, post-mortem.”

Eve swallowed,
trying to digest the distasteful word. “I understand.”

“It wasn’t
enough for her to simply leave them a chunk of money to do whatever
they wanted with though. You know Sharon, she liked to control
things,” he said, smiling.

“Yes, she did.”
Sharon was a perfectionist who believed if she wanted a job done
right, she had to do it herself.

“That’s why she
set up a charitable foundation in her name.” Morris handed Eve one
of the documents. “She would like you to serve as the director. Of
course, you’re free to hire whomever you would like to help you,
but Sharon was quite specific about her five-year plan for the
organization. Beyond that, she’s entrusting you to carry on as you
see fit.”

Eve flipped
through the pages, trying to process what that would mean. The
organization was a huge undertaking, one she wasn’t sure she was up
to. “What if I can’t do it? I mean, I have experience with charity
work, but nothing like this.”

“Your aunt had
faith in you, Eve. You need to learn to believe in yourself as much
as she believed in you.” He handed her an envelope with her name on
the outside.

She immediately
recognized her aunt’s bold handwriting. “What’s this?”

“A letter from
Sharon. There’s also a memory card. She recorded a video message
she wanted you to view once we’d had a chance to review her estate
plan.”

She could
barely contain her excitement when she thought about seeing her
aunt’s face and hearing her voice again. “I’ll watch it as soon as
I can.” She smoothed the envelope in her lap. Eve would fire up the
computer as soon as Morris left to watch her aunt’s video
message.

“Good, see that
you do.” Morris extracted another folder from his briefcase, took a
stapled stack of papers from it, and handed them to Eve. “This
outlines your aunt’s plans for the inn. You, of course, were her
sole heir since she hadn’t spoken to your mother in years.”

Sharon wasn’t
the only one who hadn’t spoken to her mother in years. Jane Nesbitt
seemed to have simply stepped off the face of the earth when her
sister agreed to take over raising her daughter. Jane had had a few
brief conversations with Eve and Sharon over the years, but they
always ended in arguments that left them all the worse for wear.
Sharon eventually told Jane she wasn’t welcome in their lives until
she decided to take responsibility for her actions.

Eve flipped
through the stack of paper and frowned when she came across
architectural drawings outlining expansion plans for the inn. She
knew her aunt had been thinking about making some changes to the
inn before she got sick, but she didn’t realize how far along
Sharon was in the planning process. “The renovation…”

“Is your
responsibility now,” Morris said, chuckling. He hooked a thumb over
his shoulder at the corrugated tube. “Those are all the plans. She
included a list of contractors and sub-contractors she’d lined up,
and she was very specific about what she wanted, so you shouldn’t
have any problems executing her plans.”

Eve felt a
little overwhelmed. Her aunt had made her the director of a
charitable organization and an innkeeper responsible for a major
expansion. If she had any concerns about what she would do with her
life now that her marriage was over, Sharon had ensured she would
be busy. She stared at the papers until the words blurred through
her tears. “I can’t believe this. I don’t know if I can do all
this, Morris.”

“You have no
idea what you’re capable of until you challenge yourself, my dear.
Sharon knew that, and she wanted to teach you that lesson the hard
way.” Smiling, he said, “You know your aunt. She thought taking the
easy way out was for slackers.”

Eve smiled and
rubbed a hand over her forehead. “I guess you’re right.” Sitting up
straighter, she took a deep breath. “Okay, anything else I need to
know?”

He handed Eve
another folder. “This outlines your aunt’s remaining assets, after
the disbursements to the organization.”

Her mouth fell
open when she looked at the bottom line on the last sheet of paper.
If that reporter had done his homework, he would have realized her
aunt was worth much more than he suspected. “Wow, I had no
idea.”

Morris laughed.
“I’m not sure Sharon had any idea how big that number was until we
started her estate planning. Money was only important to her
because it allowed her to give back to the community she loved. She
had a great life, Eve. Wonderful friends, a job she was passionate
about, a community who revered her, a niece she adored… Not many
people can say that. Don’t feel sad Sharon’s life was cut short.
Just be proud of the life she lived.”

“I am proud,”
she whispered, her hands trembling as she set the documents on the
desk. “I’m so proud to have been a part of her life.”

“There is a
stipulation we need to discuss,” Morris said, looking
uncomfortable. “That money is yours and yours alone. Your current
or future husband will have no claim whatsoever to a dollar of that
money. If they contend otherwise, we’ll fight them as hard as we
have to. That’s the way Sharon wanted it, and I promised her I
would honor her wishes.”

Eve gaped at
him, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Morris, my husband is
a wealthy man. There’s no way he would want a dime of my aunt’s
money. As for the future, I can’t imagine I’ll ever want to get
married again.” Just the thought of going through that heartbreak
again was more than Eve could handle.

“You say that
now, but you’re still young. None of us know what the future might
hold.” He hesitated. “Does that mean you’re ready to end your
marriage?”

Eve didn’t want
to cry again. She’d just acknowledged the truth to herself and her
husband. She wasn’t sure she was ready to share it with anyone else
yet, but she knew Morris was the person she would ask to act on her
behalf. “Yes, I am. I’d like you to get started on proceedings
soon…”

He handed her
another stack of papers. “Your aunt suspected you may be ready to
take that step, so she asked me to help you when the time came. I
took the liberty of preparing this document, based on your aunt’s
stipulations regarding your inheritance. Of course, you won’t need
to split the assets you shared with Alex, unless of course you want
to. That’s clearly stated in the divorce petition. It should
certainly help speed up the process. As long as you both consent
and there aren’t any complications I’m not aware of, I don’t
perceive any delays.”

BOOK: Starting Over
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