Chapter Four
It had been hard, making herself go to the kitchen the first time, leaving the two of them alone. Cassidy hadn’t done it right away, obviously, but after fifteen minutes of awkward small talk, she’d stepped out to get beverages, and the world hadn’t ended. So she tried it again, this time to make sure the cats had food. Then she went back to the living room and smiled at the two of them.
Connelly was a lot less intimidating when he was so clearly overwhelmed. He spent a fair bit of time just staring at Emily, obviously fascinated and amazed and a little bit freaked out. He was like a man seeing his newborn for the first time, and Cassidy supposed that made sense. This was probably even more intense—at least with a newborn he’d have had nine months of preparation time and wouldn’t have to deal with the child having opinions and a personality.
“But I don’t understand why you’d have a goat if they scare you,” he was saying now. He made it sound as if having unwanted pets was just one more way Emily was charming and delightful.
“We needed somebody to keep Finnegan company,” Em explained. “Horses are herd animals, and when we had to sell Casey, Finnegan was lonesome. So we got Nanny. But she’s creepy.”
“Casey’s a horse?”
Emily nodded, then looked almost guiltily at Cassidy. Good, the girl hadn’t lost all sense. There were some things that shouldn’t be discussed with strangers. “I have to get back to the diner,” Cassidy said. “This has probably been enough of a visit for the first day. Em, do you have a lot of homework, or can you come help out?”
“The best thing about missing school is that I didn’t technically get any homework assigned,” Emily said happily.
On a normal day, Cassidy would have insisted that Emily call a friend and work on getting caught up, but this wasn’t a normal day. “Come with me, then.”
“Would it be okay if I came by for dinner?” Connelly asked.
“We can always use the business.”
“Would we be able to eat together?” He frowned. “No, of course not. You’ll be busy serving everyone. So when do you eat?”
“We close at eight and have dinner then,” Cassidy said. She looked at Emily. How much more father-time did the girl want?
“We’re probably making something boring for the special tonight,” Emily said glumly. “But if you want something boring, you could come by at eight and eat with us.”
“If it’s not a busy night, maybe you could make something special just for us,” Cassidy suggested, and her niece beamed.
“We’ve got a really good chicken enchilada recipe,” Emily told Connelly.
“Sounds delicious,” he said. His smile made her stomach flip. He looked like a different person, less intimidating but still confident. Handsome. “But something else would be fine, too.”
It was too easy. Too cozy, too simple. Cassidy wanted to put her arms out and say Everybody hold it right there, and then she wanted to…she didn’t know. She wanted to make sure Emily stayed happy. That was the most important thing, obviously. So if Em was happy now, what the hell was Cassidy’s problem?
“Okay,” she said. “Dinner around eight, at the diner. We’ll see you there.” They all left together, Connelly heading for his shiny silver Audi, Cassidy and Em climbing into their dusty blue Ford.
“He seems really nice,” Emily said, looking at Cassidy for confirmation.
Cassidy made herself nod. “He seems okay,” she said. But she would damn well keep her eyes open for any signs to the contrary.
…
“She likes math and science best,” Will told Trevor. He’d been talking for a while now and knew he was babbling, could tell Trevor’s polite interest was covering a fair helping of amusement, but that was okay. “Straight As in math and science. Geography, too. Anything concrete. She gets a bit impatient with English, or things that are too nebulous. Just like me!”
“But she still does well in those subjects?” Trevor prompted.
“Bs. So, that’s not great, but it’s probably a question of the teachers as much as it’s about her. They just haven’t found a way to capture her interest. I’ll set up tutors, for as long as she stays in this school. Can you start looking around for private schools, ones with really good programs in math and science? And let’s look for summer camp options, too.” He frowned to himself. “Day camps. Not sleepaway camps. I just met her; I need to spend some time with her.”
“I can find someone to look into all of that for you,” Trevor said. “But as your legal counsel, I have other priorities. I’ve contacted Hannah Mansour, the head of our family law department, to have her look into the guardianship situation. I assume you’ll want custody as soon as possible?”
Custody. Will felt the word like a weight, dragging him down. Not the responsibility of it; he wasn’t afraid of responsibility. But taking custody of Emily… “What would that mean for Cassidy?”
Trevor raised an eyebrow. “What would you like it to mean?” He waited for an uncomfortable moment, then took mercy on Will’s indecision. “Legal custody or physical custody or both? Do you want to have a say in what Emily does, or do you want her to actually live with you? What role do you see her aunt playing in her life? How do you—”
“Wait,” Will interrupted. “Her aunt, now. What happened to all that stuff about Cassidy being like Emily’s mother?”
“Legally, Ms. Frost is the aunt, and we’re talking about legal matters right now. She’s also currently the legal guardian, but that status was obtained based on a fraudulent claim that the father was unknown and unknowable. The courts are supposed to rule in favor of what’s best for the children, but they don’t ignore parental rights, and they don’t condone fraud.”
“She wouldn’t be able to afford good lawyers,” Will said. The words felt dirty in his mouth, but he knew Trevor would understand they had to be said. “We could bulldoze right over her. But that’s not good for Emily.”
“We could offer a cash settlement. Something substantial.”
Millions. Will would pay millions, if he had to. But would Cassidy Frost take the money? He thought of her flashing eyes as she’d stared him down in the diner, ready to do whatever it took to protect her niece. No, money wasn’t going to work. “We need to persuade her,” he said. “We need—no, I need—to make her trust me. To make her want me in Emily’s life.”
“I agree,” Trevor said carefully. “But I feel like there’s another option I need to mention here. Because, really, there’s no need to get too stressed about any of this. We can investigate more and look for ways to make sure we’re monitoring Emily’s progress, and you can set up a trust to pay for her education and whatever else you think is important, and you can stop worrying about all the rest of it. She seems to be doing well with her aunt. If there’s one thing missing, it’s money, and you can help out with that. Otherwise, you don’t actually need to be part of this girl’s daily life. Not if you don’t want to be. You can take her out to lunch a couple times a year, pay her bills, and just go back to your normal life. That’s absolutely an option.”
“No.” Surprising how clear that response was in his mind. “I want to be part of her life. A big part. I want to be Emily’s father.” He’d been raised by two parents who had kept their distance, preferring to live their own glamorous lives rather than settle down with a child, and he knew what that felt like. He wouldn’t let himself repeat the pattern. “Get those experts together. Not Cassidy, yet, just the others. I want to go into this prepared. What are the likely effects of losing a mother at this stage of a girl’s life, how much is she learning at this school, would she be able to go to a better school without a painful transition? Anything like that. And—”
Will wasn’t sure how to phrase the next part. He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking. “You have sisters. Do you know…” He frowned. What was he trying to get at? “Right now, Emily seems really—nice. No attitude or eye rolls or any of the rest of the teenage crap. But she’s thirteen years old, so…”
“How much longer can you expect her to act like a civilized human being?” Trevor asked, and again Will had the distinct feeling he was being laughed at. “I’ll check with the experts, but I think they’ll probably tell me it depends. I’ve heard reports, or legends, maybe, of kids who make it right through their teenage years without turning evil for an extended period. I think it’s theoretically possible.” Trevor sounded slightly more serious when he added, “In a way, though, I think being a cranky teenager is an important thing. I mean, you want them to establish their independence, right? So maybe there’s some degree of boundary testing that’s kind of healthy? And maybe a kid who doesn’t test things is actually feeling a bit insecure?”
There was a pause while they both thought about it, and then Trevor said, “I should make it clear that I am absolutely talking out of my ass. I don’t have kids, and I was out of the house for most of my sisters’ teenage crap. I remember them fighting with my parents, but I didn’t really keep track of it all.”
“Okay. Yeah.” What exactly had Will been looking for with that line of questioning? “I feel like there’s a pretty limited window of opportunity, here. If she starts looking for her independence before she’s even become dependent, I’m in trouble. If it turns out that it is healthy for her to strike out on her own, spend more time with her friends, stop listening to her parents—any of that teenager stuff—I need to have some level of relationship established before that happens. She’s not a cute little toddler who I can take my time getting to know. I need to make this happen. Fast. So get those experts together. In the meantime, though, there are a few other things I want to take care of.”