Undercover (12 page)

But still, she didn’t belong here. The lawyer had requested, not demanded her presence at the reading of the Trust. Why would this man, who had never bothered to contact her before his death, want to give her anything now? She didn’t require anything from him. Didn’t want anything. She had a college education. She had a little house packed side by side with other little houses on the outskirts of town, near Highland Park. It wasn’t much, but it was hers.

 She didn’t need anything from a man who’d spent one night banging her mother in some sleazy motel. He didn’t owe her. She’d spent her entire life being an obligation to her grandparents, she be damned if she would be an obligation to someone she’d never met.          

Derek Pratt, Attorney at Law, entered the conference room, a man used to commanding attention. Katie recognized him from the press conferences he’d fielded on behalf of the O’Neils over the last two weeks. His graying hair added a distinguished look to an already aristocratic face and was probably the only reason vanity hadn’t demand he change the color. A tall man, he had a powerful facade and looked comfortable in tailor made expensive suits.  

Katie lifted her fingers to her mouth out of habit and then remembered she didn’t bite her nails anymore. Her hand fell back into her lap and she gripped her hands together to keep them from shaking.

Faced with four men in expensive suits and silk ties, men accustom to money and power, left no doubt to her status in their world. A simpleton. A ragamuffin with little to her name. She shouldn’t be here, even if commonsense told her that money didn’t make them more important than her, didn’t make them better.

“Sorry, I’ve kept you waiting,” Derek said, his voice smooth, yet cold like iced mocha coffee. He approached the table with a thick folder in his hand and laid the file on the glossy tabletop. “Carl, Mike, Joe, you’ve introduced yourselves to Katie, I presume?” They nodded the affirmative. “Well then let me explain why she’s here. Katie is Keith’s daughter.”

No sense beating around the bush, she thought, hearing the three men gasp in denial. They sat back, straighter in their seats, pulling away from the truth they’d just been slapped with. They hadn’t been aware of her existence.

With Keith as a public figure, she’d researched his background. She knew about them, she knew they existed, but they knew nothing of her.

“I don’t understand.” Carl shook his head. “That’s not possible.”

“I know this is a shock. Due to reasons of confidentiality, I couldn’t share this information with you until today.” Derek directed his statement to the O’Neils, but their attention focused on her.
Oh, God. Oh, God
. She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, click her heels and disappear from the room.

“Come on, Derek, it’s obvious she’s after the money. Why else come forward after Keith’s dead?” Joe asked never taking his eyes off her.

The fine hairs on her arms bristled upright. She hadn't considered the possibility that they would believe she was making the paternal claim. But in the face of Joe’s bitter response, it seemed like an obvious reaction.

Why hadn't the lawyer warned them in advance?

With perspiration dampening her armpits, she meant to put things right. “Excuse me, but…”

“Hold on, now. Everyone calm down.” Derek held up his hands to stop further comment. “Katie didn’t come forward to make a claim on Keith, the opposite in fact. Keith identified Katie as his daughter. She knew nothing of her ties to Keith until I contacted her a week ago.”

His words had the effect of a boxer delivering the final blow to the opponent and knocking him flat on his ass. The O’Neils didn’t look at her now. Their eyes cast down, signaling defeat. She didn’t feel good about the win.

Carl recovered first. “Katie, I’m sorry, obviously we thought… well, what we thought doesn’t matter. Keith chose to keep many things to himself. He never mentioned having a daughter.”

Katie heard the sadness in his voice and saw it in his eyes.

“Katie, with your permission, I’d like to explain how this situation came about.”

“Yes …” She cleared her throat. “Please. I’d like to understand the situation myself.”

Brows furrowed around the table.

Derek took a seat at the head of the table and began. “Keith met Katie’s mother, Frannie, twenty-nine years ago. They’d been dating three months when Frannie became pregnant. Under the circumstance, they decided Frannie’s parents would raise Katie. Keith provided…”

“Who made the decision?” Carl interrupted, his hands sat clenched on top the table. A muscle jumped along his jaw.

“Keith explained that he and Frannie both agreed to the arrangement.”

“Why didn’t Katie’s mother raise her?” Again, Carl interrupted the speech Derek seemed to have rehearsed.

They looked to Katie for an answer, but when she said nothing Derek continued. “At the time, Frannie could not provide for Katie.”

Derek paused before continuing and Katie wondered if he did so for effect. He had a flare for the dramatic. “Keith provided a monthly stipend to Mr. & Mrs. Delynski for Katie’s care.”

“What?” Katie blurted.

Derek sighed. “Yes. The first couple of years he sent money when he could, his career was just taking off. By the time you turned three or four years old, he sent money on a regular basis.”

He’d sent money for years. Her grandparents knew him all along. Stunned disbelief warred with a deep sense of betrayal. How could they have kept this from her? Had he wanted to see her and been refused by her grandparents? No, no, no. That couldn’t be right. If he had wanted to see her, he would have. He’d sent money out of guilt. He paid to keep her out of his life.

Tears pushed at the back of her eyes. The air seemed to cut off from her lungs and a rising panic scattered through her stomach. Katie ordered herself to pull it together. Think later. She closed her eyes for a moment and gripped the arms of her chair for something solid to hold on to.  

Derek turned his attention to the three men. “Let me reiterate, Katie had no knowledge of her connection with Keith until a week ago. Mr. O’Neil instructed me to contact her a week following the event of his death.”

Three set of eyes riveted on her face.

“I’m sure this all comes as a shock to you,” Carl said, the obvious spokesperson for the family.

“Yes, it does. I didn’t know my grandparents received money from him.” She hadn’t known they even knew who her father was. She’d assumed her mother didn’t know.
God, this was unbelievable. A mistake.
But she pulled her thoughts back from the brink of overload. This was taking an unnecessary toll on everyone in the room.

“Mr. Pratt, I believe we can skip all of this. None of this changes the fact that I didn’t and don’t know Mr. O’Neil or his family. I don’t understand why I’m here.”

“Of course, Ms. Delynski.” His tone sharpened, but she didn’t care if she’d bruised his fragile ego. She wanted answers. More than anything, she wanted this meeting over. “Keith O’Neil has named you in his Trust.” He pulled papers from the folder.

A startled laugh escaped. “That’s impossible,” she protested. Surging to her feet, she pointed at the folder as if it were a hissing snake. “I don’t belong in there. I didn’t know him.”

“Right or wrong, Ms. Delynski, the fact remains you are named in the Trust. To put it in simple layman terms, Carl, Mike and Joe, each of you will receive ten million dollars.” Derek ignored their murmurs of disbelief. “A Mrs. Rachel Molloy, who is not present, will also receive ten million dollars. Katie, everything else, his money, his homes, his investments, everything else is yours.”

Silence.

She swallowed several times before she managed to push out a sound. “I can’t take his money. I don’t want it.” She gestured to the three men with a flutter of her delicate hands. “They’re his family. They love him and grieve for him. This belongs to them.”  

Someone had made a mistake, she thought, turning and walking out of the room on knees ready to buckle. The ladies room, she needed to find the ladies room. Her pumps echoing down the hall as she rounded the corner and slammed into the solid chest of a man. His arms went around her to keep her from stumbling backward. For a brief moment, the urge to wrap her arms around him, to bury her face in the warm strength of him and block everything else out stalled her ability to react. But shock overcame urge and she pushed away from him.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Her hand still lingered against his chest.

He chuckled and she felt the gentle rumble against her palm. His large hand captured hers before she could pull away, pressing her hand against him. The warmth generated by the touch as intoxicating as the scent of his spicy cologne. His towering height forced her to stare up into his handsome face.

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