‘I take it you know what dry rot is?’
‘Of course.’ A puzzled expression furrows his features.
‘The ballroom is apparently riddled with it. We’ve had this problem in other areas of the estate and barely survived the demolition and rebuild of them. And now, the cracks are beginning to appear again – literally.’
He swallows, confusion mists in his swirling eyes. ‘Sasha, it’s only bricks and mortar. We can fix it.’
I shake my head and the tears fall again. ‘The estate’s been struggling for years. I can’t turn a profit. I don’t know how my parents did it, they made it look effortless, but since I’ve been in charge I’ve fucked up everything. The accountant warned me I’d probably have to sell up, and that was before we found the latest cracks.’
Ryan pulls me upwards into his strong embrace. ‘Sweetheart, we will fix this. Whatever it costs. Money is not an issue. Nor will it ever be again. There’s no way I’m going to stand by and watch you sell this place. I’ve only just found my way back, and I’m kind of fond of it.’ A small smile curls at his lips.
Ok, so the man probably has millions in the bank. It didn’t exactly come up in conversation. But even if he does, I won’t take his charity.
I shake my head against his chest. ‘This is my mess. I got this family into it and it’s my responsibility to get us out.’
‘Oh, so I’m not family, no?’ His fingers tickle my waist, teasingly. ‘Don’t make me put a ring on that finger already.’
It’s not the first time he’s joked about it, but there’s still no way I can let him sort out the financial wreck of my family estate.
‘It might not be the best time. There’s not much of a dowry.’ I can’t even bring myself to smile.
‘Sasha, do not worry about the money. I’ve been meaning to give you something since I got here. It’s actually why I was looking for you. Well, that and a burning, relentless urge to take you on your father’s desk.’ He glances up as if my dad’s actually watching. ‘Sorry, Mr Sexton, but I’m sure you’ve been here yourself with Mrs S.’
‘Oh my god, you’re gross.’ It’s one thing joking with Chloe and entirely another to think of my parents like that.
Ryan reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a white folded envelope. Pressing it into my palms, he urges me to open it.
Instinctively, I shake my head. I won’t take his charity.
Though if it’s charity, how did he know I needed it?
I pause, my fingers hesitating over the seal.
‘Go on.’ He nods in encouragement.
I open the envelope gently, sliding out the contents with reluctant caution.
My eyes nearly burst out of my head at the insane figure written on a cheque addressed to me. Six million dollars. What the fuck?
I immediately press it back against his chest and jerk away from him. I might be surrounded by a crumbling mess of an estate, but I do have some pride.
‘I can’t, Ryan. I just can’t. But thank you for the offer. I’ll work something out.’
‘What are you thanking me for? It’s your money. You earnt it fair and square.’ He pushes it back at me. ‘Look at the signature on the bottom of the cheque. It’s not my name.’
The guy probably put it under a different name, sure he could have a hundred businesses for all I know. We haven’t spoken too much about his life over in the States because he’s slipped so effortlessly back into this one.
Squinting cautiously through my puffy slits, I glance down at the cheque.
‘Diamond Records?’
‘It’s the record label that signed me. I know you haven’t listened to the albums, but there are some tracks that I can’t take credit for.’ He glances at the floor, as if he’s ashamed.
‘Seriously? You used the songs we wrote together?’
‘Some of the lyrics. The music producers changed up the melodies and tempo, but yes, I used some of them. I had your name put on the copyright alongside my own. I was so sure you’d come and find me when you realised, that you’d want your share. Somehow, far away, amongst all the LA drama queens, I forgot you’ve got way too much class for that. Then out of stubbornness, and hurt from your rejection, the fact you ignored my note and never once tried to contact me, I held back from delivering it earlier. I was actually mad with you. I thought you’d heard about my dad and tarred me with the same brush. You were always so far out of my league, a princess living in an actual castle. I never felt good enough for you.’
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I rest my forehead against his. Our noses tip to tip.
