“Archer Bennett?”

I turn to the woman who has just approached me as I head toward my office building. She’s attractive and dressed professionally like most people who work downtown. I rapidly flip through my mental rolodex, trying to place her. I’ve gone through a fair number of one-night stands. Most of them understand how it is from the get-go: no strings; no attachment; don’t call me, I’ll call you.

This one doesn’t look familiar. She also doesn’t look like she’s about to start an embarrassing confrontation. In fact, she has a pleasant and perfectly neutral smile on her face.

“Yes?” I say warily. Which was my mistake.

“You’ve just been served,” she says in a chipper tone, digging into her tote bag and pulling out a folded set of papers to hand to me. She gives one final bright smile then turns and walks away.

What the fuck?

I quickly open the documents I’ve just been served as I walk angrily to the elevator.

When I read through the first part, I stop in my tracks.

Son of a bitch!

My guardianship over Stuart’s estate has just been challenged…by my own damn mother.

* * *

“What the hell is this?”

Simone rushes into my office and toward my desk waiving a set of paperwork in my face that’s similar to what I was handed this morning.

You’ve been a busy little bee, Mom.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Bennett! She just—”

“It’s okay, Agnes,” I say dismissively.

She looks back and forth between the two of us with worry written all over her face, before deciding it’s best to just leave and close the door to my office behind her.

“Is this some sort of double-team thing between you and your mother? You get the estate and she gets guardianship?”

She doesn’t know that I’ve also been served and I intend to keep it that way. Let her rant and rave and drop all her juicy little bits of dirty laundry for me to collect. I don’t plan on returning the favor.

“That’s an interesting turn of phrase,” I say laconically.

“Don’t you dare turn this into some kind of joke,” she spits.

“To answer your question, the last person on earth I would ‘double-team’ with is my mother.”

“Well, what the hell is going on?”

“It would seem that my mother thinks she’d make a better guardian of Stuart than you.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” she retorts. “The question I want an answer to is why? She wasn’t exactly the doting grandmother,” she casts a cynical look my way, “though better than some of Stuart’s other relatives.”

“Perhaps you should ask her,” I suggest.

“Oh, I intend to, don’t you worry about that.”

Good luck with that. One thing I inherited from my mother was cunning. She’ll have Simone talking in circles as she digs a hole for herself that’s too deep to get out of. Then I’ll have my mother to contend with, rather than Simone.

Miranda Bennett wasn’t exactly Donna Reed, nor was she Mommy Dearest. She was just a woman born of an era where her ambitions in life were usurped by a husband whose career and image took precedence. She was repaid with an extremely comfortable lifestyle, which included boys who were shipped off to boarding school so she didn’t have to spend too much of her valuable time raising us.

When our father died and both Kevin and I were finally out of the house, she picked up right where her original plans had stopped and started making moves to start her own fashion company. She finally managed to get one going about three years ago. Although we don’t talk much—a phone call at Christmas and birthdays—I have kept tabs on how she’s doing business-wise. I’m mildly impressed with her success. Who knew she had it in her?

The problem lies in the fact that some judge might just come to the conclusion that this little hobby-turned-business of hers makes her competent enough to take over Stuart’s estate.

My concern right at this moment is what other competencies she has in her. Has she turned out to be a decent enough grandmother to take over full guardianship?

“Are you concerned she might win?” I ask idly.

Simone straightens her shoulders and gives me an indignant look. “Of course not!”

“Well then…,” I reply.

She stares at me, blinking. “I mean…it isn’t like she is a complete stranger to Stuart.” The personal dig isn’t lost on me. “He knows her well enough and seems to like her.”

She falls into the chair opposite me and stares out the window over my shoulder. “The only thing is, she has raised two sons.”

I cough out a laugh.

Simone turns to give me a look that’s both angry and startled.

“If her parenting abilities are you’re main concern, I’ll be more than happy to be your first witness to the contrary on that count.”

“It isn’t me I’m concerned about here, Archer,” she says testily, “it’s Stuart.”

My face settles back into passive concentration again, ever the attentive ear to her thoughts.

She gives me a considering look. “Do you think she’ll win custody?”

I lean in on my desk and give her a direct look. “Honestly, Simone, I don’t know. If it makes you feel any better, I’d rather you maintain control than my mother.”

Which is true. It isn’t just that, despite our mutual disdain for one another, I know that my brother’s sister-in-law will be far more easily to manipulate. It’s that at least I know what her motives are. She genuinely cares about Stuart.

When it comes to my mother, I have no idea what her endgame is.