Chapter 1
“What’s he doing here?”
“I didn’t think he’d dare show his face.”
“That’s a black sheep for you, always thinking about themselves.”
Cash did his best to ignore his Diamante cousins clustered together like a bunch of chickens clucking away and establishing a pecking order. Family gatherings hadn’t always been like this. There’d been a time when they’d play kickball or snitch treats from the kitchen together—one big clump of kids just happy to have someone who wanted to play instead of sit around and talk like the adults.
Growing up kind of sucked like that.
The thing was, he’d still play kickball. Any. Day. But all his old buddies were too concerned about their designer suits and Jimmy Choos or whatever the ladies wore these days.
He took a seat on the last row, leaning the chair back against the wall. His worn leather jacket crinkled as he moved, the sound loud in the small lawyer’s office. Only an act of God could have made him walk into a room full of self-important Moose Creek elite. He supposed Grandpa’s death counted, so he’d laced up his riding boots and ridden over here to see what was in the old man’s will.
The gossiping continued as if he couldn’t hear every word. Keeping his face neutral was easier when he remembered that it was his father’s sins unfairly heaped upon his shoulders that caused them all to look down on him. He had plenty of his own sins to account for, but none that this group could complain about. Now if Maggie were in the room, that would be a different story.
He cut off that train of thought before it could gain steam. There was no sense drowning in the past. What was done was done, and he couldn’t take it back or make it right.
Mr. Sam Goodall finally entered the room. Grandpa’s lawyer wore a gray suit with a sheen to the fabric that could signal Pluto. His hair was salt-and-pepper, slicked back and full—especially for a man his age. He walked tall, as if he was proud of himself and his family—all the way back to his great-great-grandparents. Cash envied people like that, the kind that could claim they came from someone. Though Cash’s grandfather had been an influential man in Moose Creek, Cash’s father was well-known in all the wrong places. It was like Dad took pleasure in destroying the reputation Grandpa so carefully built.
Maybe he regretted that now that he was living in a cinderblock cell. But probably not.
Mr. Goodall motioned for everyone to take their seats. Cash’s cousins scattered like roaches when the lights came on. They wouldn’t dare upset the executor of Grandpa’s will any more than they’d dared challenged the guy during his life. Grandpa had ruled the family like a king. At least, that’s what life was like for everyone else.
With Cash, he was different. More human.
They think they have the corner on piety and upstanding reputations, Grandpa had said one day,but they have no idea what skeletons are in their closets. You, my boy, you have names for each of yours and you don’t hide from them. I can respect that.
“I’d like to welcome you all here today.” Mr. Goodall looked over the gathering. His gaze landed on Cash, who was kicking back in his seat like he didn’t have a care. His eye ticked.
Cash smirked.
Mr. Goodall continued on, “I’m sorry for the circumstances that have brought about this gathering. I hope to make this process as painless as possible, as I know you are still grieving the loss of your grandfather. Once your portion of the will is read, please exit the room. My secretary has all the information you will need to transfer titles and so on.”
As the long list of Grandpa’s worldly belongings was divvied up among eager recipients, Cash tuned out. He didn’t care if Felicity got half the jewelry store or Camila moved into the mansion. What Cash wanted from Grandpa couldn’t be written up in a will. He wanted his grandpa back, the one Diamante who’d seen something in him. He’d gladly hand over his company for just one more day to work alongside Grandpa.
He pulled out his phone to check for messages and found several markedurgentfrom his superintendent, James. The plumber wasn’t going to be at the site until Wednesday; could they bump the sheet rockers back a couple days and still stay on schedule?
He checked his calendar and responded. It would be tight but doable. He then sent a message to the sheetrock company asking them about the change and if they’d be able to move their schedule. One adjustment like this could affect a half dozen jobs.
“Cash? Cash.”
Cash lifted his head to see that the room had cleared as each of his cousins’ names were read off and their allotment delivered. No one had said goodbye, but then, they hadn’t said hello either.
“I’m Cash,” he clarified as he tucked his phone inside his jacket.
Mr. Goodall smiled. While everything about his appearance grated on Cash, from the ornately carved walnut desk to the slight gap between his front teeth, there was something about the guy that kept him from crossing over to the greasy lawyer stereotype. There was kindness in his eyes. He also added some welcome in his smile, something that had been missing when Mr. Goodall had addressed the cousins.
“Your grandfather had something extra special in mind for you.” Mr. Goodall leaned onto the balls of his feet as if he were about to start an adventure.
Crap. What had Grandpa done? “I can only imagine,” mumbled Cash.
“I’ve been instructed to take you on a little field trip.” The lawyer opened a drawer and pulled out a set of car keys. He rounded the desk, motioning for Cash to go ahead of him. Cash stood slowly, his six-foot-three frame unfolding until he towered over the smaller man.
Mr. Goodall held out his hand for a shake. Cash was surprised at the strength in the lawyer’s soft-looking hands.
“Is this going to take long?” He had a crew working on a project across town and was anxious to get back there.
