Seeing him then didn’t help. I doubted seeing him now would, either.
He gestured toward me. “Look at you, now, grown into a beautiful young woman. How wild is this? But where are my manners? Come inside, please.”
I stepped into a foyer with granite slab floors and tasteful but boring decor, like a Four Seasons hotel lobby. A big, modern chandelier hung near the balcony at the top of the staircase, where there was a perfect view of the lake through a tall window facing his backyard.Of coursehe had a pool. The lake wasn’t enough, apparently.
He led me into a small sitting room that had some seating anchored around a contemporary fireplace. He sat on a love seat, and I took a wingback chair across from him, perching on the edge like a flighty bird.
I couldn’t feel any less comfortable. Sweat blossomed over my brow.
“Been a few years,” he said, leaning back with both arms spread across the tops of the back cushions. “Talk to me. I take it you did the work to find me for a reason. Clearly weren’t in the neighborhood.”
“Clearly.” I fished through my purse for the form I’d brought. “Mr. Lee—”
“Come on, Paige. Call me Rufus.”
“How about I call you Hound Dog?”
He chuckled. “Haven’t heard that in a long time. Folks still call me that around Haven Beach?”
I didn’t answer. I wasn’t going to feed his ego. “Rufus,” I said, trying to be as professional as possible. “Perhaps your office has informed you about my messages and voicemails? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for weeks.”
“Really? I had no idea, sorry,” he said, shrugging casually. “Why?”
“I’m going to school out east—”
“Nice. Which one?”
“Harvard.”
“Look at you,” he said, lifting his glass. “Very nice, indeed. You always were a bright little thing. I work with a man from Harvard at the brokerage. A lot of our clients have Ivy League degrees.”
Bully for him. I wished I could punch him right in his puffed-up chest.
A dark-haired housekeeper appeared in the doorway, dressed in a black polo shirt and matching pants. “Mr. Lee, can I get you anything?”
He raised a dismissive hand. “Not now, Ester.”
“What about the lady?” Ester lifted her brows in my direction. “Coffee or tea?”
“No, thank you,” I answered. Absolutely not. I just wanted to get this over with. When the housekeeper nodded and backed out of the room, I resumed our conversation. “So, as I was saying, Harvard’s financial aid office needs you to sign this form stating that you claim no financial responsibility for me.”
His head tilted to one side inquisitively. “Why would they need that?”
Ugh. “Guess they somehow got wind that you’re worth millions. If you had financial responsibility for me, then I’d have to pay full tuition, room, and board because people who have moneydon’t need help. As you know, the Malones are worth nothing. So unless you want to cough up about $250,000 to finish paying for my education for the next three years, then you can sign this form.”
He studied me quietly while absolute mayhem was going on inside my chest. If he didn’t say anything soon, I might bolt. Being in the same room as my family’s own personal monster was not something I was well equipped to do.
Just when I thought he was going to drill me some more about Harvard, he smiled at me and shrugged. “Okay. Sure.”
I blinked. “Really?”
He held his arm out and gestured with his fingers. “Give it here. I don’t mind, really.”
I lifted out of my seat and reached to hand him the paper. “The sections you need to fill out are at the bottom—name, address, social security...”
“Goodness, they want it all, don’t they?” He took the paper to a nearby desk, found a pen, and began scribbling on it. Then he padded across the rug in his bare feet and handed it to me, withholding it when I reached. “This is really it? This is why you came out here?”
I nodded. “It means a lot. I really appreciate it.”
