The appearance of this homeless woman coming through the door had definitely set Allegra off balance. “I’m so sorry. Let’s start again, shall we?” She put her hand on her chest. “I’m Allegra Saint-Germaine, the attorney representing the—” She came to an abrupt halt when she realized this woman might not know her father had just died. Sighing, she apologized again. “Please, forgive me. I’m not usually this disorganized. Before we go any further.…”

  She stepped to the door. “Dr. Lemon. Could you come in here, please?” After a short, thin man stepped into the room, Allegra continued. “Mari, this is Dr. Lemon, and before we go any further, we need to verify that you are who you say you are. In order to do that, we need to take a DNA sample from you. Are you willing to do that?”

  “I don’t go by Mari. Just call me Ash.” She tilted her head in what seemed to be a signature gesture when she wanted to think about something. After a moment, her brows rose up into her hairline. “Wait. Don’t tell me the bastard finally croaked, and he left me something. Right? That’s why you need me to prove who I am? Well, I can save you a lot of trouble. I don’t want anything of his. Nothing.” She glanced down at her dog. “Come on, Girl.”

  Allegra held out her hand. “Wait, please. It isn’t an insignificant sum.” She motioned imperiously at the door. “Everyone except Ms. McGuire and Ms. Langdon. Wait for us outside.”

  The two assistants, plus George and the doctor, all obediently filed from the room, and George pulled the door shut behind him. Before the door was fully closed, Allegra called out, “George. You’re free to return to your duties.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  When they heard the click of the latch, Allegra turned to Ash and tried again with the most regretful tone she could manage. “I’m sorry to say that, yes, your father has passed on.” She paused to see if she needed to offer any false sympathy. When Ash showed no emotion whatsoever, she soldiered on. “I’m not at liberty to tell you how much he left you until I have confirmation that you are indeed Mari Nicolette Langdon. Suffice to say if you are, you will become a very wealthy woman.”

  “No.” Ash started for the door.

  Phyla put a hand on her hip and stepped into her path. “And I’m Phyla McGuire, the bitch who owns the M building.” She paused and glared at the amusement that flickered in Ash’s eyes at the pronouncement. “Ms. Saint-Germaine might not be able to say it, but you’re filthy rich, and you’d be a fool to walk out now.”

  “I don’t want his—” She stopped.

  Phyla watched her, curious about this filthy person who spoke as though she’d had at least some level of education. Judging by her calculating look and that—she lowered her brows, wondering why the word adorable popped into her mind—tilt of her head, something important had just occurred to her.

  “Wait. If I inherit from him, I can dismantle everything he worked his entire life to build, correct?” Ash glanced back and forth between Allegra and Phyla.

  Phyla, who’d given her life to building up her fortune, blinked several times as she tried to digest what Ash was proposing. Surely, no one in their right mind would turn down an over fifteen-billion-dollar inheritance. Maybe there was a reason she was homeless. Was it possible that there had been some form of mental illness on the mother’s side that they weren’t aware of? Would that nullify the entire trust if they could prove mental incompetence? The mental machinations that had taken her to the top of her profession began to churn. She’d have to speak with Allegra about the possibility as soon as they finished with this ridiculous meeting.

  While Phyla did nothing more than stare at the young woman, Allegra seized the opportunity to possibly move forward. “Absolutely.”

  A wicked grin spread across Ash’s face. “I’m in.”

  Allegra reached for the door, but before she could pull it open, Ash held up her hand and repeated, “Wait.” When Allegra removed her hand from the knob and looked at Ash with her brows raised in polite inquiry, Ash narrowed her eyes and studied her for quite a while. “You’ve known Harcourt a long time?”

  Allegra lifted a shoulder, “Nearly thirty-five years.”

  Ash continued to stare at Allegra’s face, scrutinizing every line and detail. Finally, she said, “Judging by this building and this room, you’ve done well for yourself.”

  Again, Allegra lifted a shoulder. “Yes, I have.”

  “And that doesn’t happen unless you know how to network. Go to get-togethers and such where you can rub elbows with the right kinds of people.”

  This time, Allegra realized where these questions were going. Now she didn’t need the DNA for proof. She knew deep in her core this was Mari Nicolette Langdon. She chose to wait for the next question rather than blurt out something inane.

  “I’m sure invitations to Harcourt’s parties were an excellent way to get ahead in your career. I know he helped many, many people reach the top of their chosen professions.” She waved a hand, indicating the over-the-top opulence of the room.

  Vexed by her implication, even though she understood the reason for it, Allegra narrowed her eyes and spoke with more pique than she intended. “I made my own way up the career ladder.” She decided to say more than she normally would because she was all too cognizant of the fact that this woman was trying to decide if she’d been among the grimy excuses for human beings who’d raped her. She needed to put that suspicion in the grave with Harcourt Asshole Langdon where it belonged. “I’m sorry to say your father was a misogynistic asshole, Mari.” She purposely didn’t say, “In my opinion.” He was a misogynistic asshole, and she wanted Mari to understand that she knew it for the fact it was.

  She realized she’d used the wrong name, held up a hand, and corrected herself. “Ash. I was never invited to his parties, nor would I have attended one if I’d received an invitation. He was a filthy lech who made his billions by hurting other people and destroying careers and lives. In fact, I would never have had anything to do with him if he hadn’t contracted with our law firm to represent him. And, on that note, if it had been up to me, our firm would have told him to stick his business where the sun don’t shine.” Allegra hadn’t heard that term since her Noma had been alive, and she realized just how much getting Ash to agree to the terms of the trust meant to her if she was channeling the grandmother who’d raised her and made her into the strong, self-assured woman she was today.

  Silence filled the room until Phyla drawled, “How did you really feel about him, Allegra?”

  Ash’s amber eyes slid off Allegra’s face and onto Phyla’s. “And you? Did you enjoy his legendary parties where you could rub elbows with the rich and famous?”

  Phyla lifted her chin and simply said, “I did not.”

  Ash looked down at her dog, which had put its paws on her leg so Ash could rub its ears. After a short time, her shoulders finally relaxed. “Let’s get this DNA over with then.”

  “Excellent. There are some provisions we’ll need to review after the DNA results come back, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Allegra pulled open the door. “Dr. Lemon. We’re ready.”

  The doctor came in, swabbed Ash’s cheek and gums with a long Q-tip, and then, without a word, packed up and turned to Allegra. “I understand you only need a paternity test. We’ll have the results for you in a few hours.”

  “You have my direct cell number. You’ll give the results to no one except me.”

  “Understood.”

  After he’d gone and Melissa and Daphne stepped back inside, Ash turned to Daphne. “I guess I’ll need some clean clothes after all, please. If you could just get me a pair of jeans, size ten, a large shirt, I don’t care what kind, and some clean socks and underwear. Oh, I’m a thirty-six C. I could use a new bra, too. This one’s kind of worn out.”

  The look Daphne gave her wasn’t anywhere near friendly. The scowl disappeared when she looked to her boss for confirmation. Phyla gave her a curt nod and, not daring to show the full extent of her irritation, Daphne stalked from the room.

  The morning was getting away from her, so Phyla started for the door. “I have things I need to do.” Despite her best intentions, Phyla’s nose crinkled in disgust as her gaze roamed up and down Ash’s body. “Come.”

  The humor returned to Ash’s eyes when she quoted a line from a child’s nursery rhyme. “So, the lioness and the kitten take a walk along the sea?”

  Phyla sniffed dismissively, “Quaint sayings aside, I don’t believe I’ve ever referred to you as a kitten.”

  Ash tilted her head, a look of confusion in her eyes. “The kitten in that analogy wasn’t referring to me.”

  Phyla reared back in shock, and Allegra’s bark of laughter was cut short as she turned away from the two sparring women and pretended to cough in her hand.

  Melissa’s face had gone chalk white. She stared, frozen in horror, as outrage turned the face of one of the most powerful and, if the rumors were true, vicious women in the world increasingly darker shades of red and purple.

  The room was completely silent. Phyla visibly reeled in her emotions, and then, pulling her lips into a thin line, she pinned Allegra with a frosty glare. “Since getting her clean will most assuredly take a good deal of time, you’ll call me if the test results come back with a satisfactory result. If not….” Her gaze flicked to Ash before she swept from the room.

  Ash blinked and followed her out, “Hey. Can you stop for a sandwich on the way to your office? I’m starved. Breakfast at the jail sucks.”

  Phyla stopped dead in her tracks, slowly turned, and peered down her nose at the woman. “Excuse me?”

  “Anything but hotdogs from Crispy Dogz. Jake never changes his grease, and his dogs give me the runs.”

  Allegra bit her lip to keep from smiling when Phyla’s glare went from frost to ice. The attorney held up a placating hand. “I’ll have Melissa order something, Phyla, and have it sent to your office.”

  Phyla continued to the elevators and punched the down button hard enough to hurt. When the doors opened, she stepped in and held her hand up to stop Ash. “You smell like last year’s rotted meat. I’ll meet you in my offices. And that dog can stay with security when you arrive.”

  The doors began to shut, and Ash simply said, “Nope.”

  Phyla elegantly put her hand on the door to stop it from closing. She momentarily forgot the woman didn’t know the terms of the trust. “If we’re going to be working together, you’ll have to make arrangements for that dog to be elsewhere during our working hours.”

  Ash looked genuinely horrified, “Working together? Are you shitting me? Fuck no. That’s not happening.”

  Phyla was more used to people fawning over her and begging to be in her presence than recoiling from the mere suggestion of working together. When she realized her jaw had dropped a minuscule amount, she quickly shut it. “We’ll discuss this after the results come back.” With that, she let the elevator doors slide completely closed.

  “Problems?” Allegra had seen Phyla leave without Ash and had come to see why Ash hadn’t joined her in the elevator.

  Ash grinned at her. “No. Well, yes. I stink, and she didn’t want to be stuck in a box with me for the ride down.” She sniffed her armpit. “I can’t really blame her.”

  While the gesture was uncouth, the grin was to die for. Allegra took a moment to study the younger woman. They were of a height, both around five foot seven. Ash had a muscular build, strong arms and broad shoulders, and even in those filthy jeans, Allegra could tell the legs were strong and shapely. She mentally shrugged. Ash wasn’t her type. She preferred her women to be more on the femme side. And clean. Shaking her head at the thought that she was going to have to work with a homeless person, she pushed the down button. “You obviously know where the M building is? I’ll see you there later.”

  Ash nodded and stepped onto the elevator. As the doors closed, she watched Allegra moving effortlessly across the floor in her designer high heels as she made her way back to her office. Nice ass. But not my type. She thought of the cold, intimidating Phyla McGuire just waiting for a strong someone to make her beg for more. She surprised herself with a grin when the thought popped into her mind: Definitely my type, and definitely one I need to keep far, far away from me.

  Seven

  Phyla must have remembered to tell security about her because when she walked into the M building, she was escorted to the elevator by a black security woman who didn’t seem to be too put out by her clothes. After she slipped her card into the slot, the woman leaned over and whispered, “I’ve been on the streets, too, Sweetie. I don’t know why you’re here or why Ms. McGuire deigned to have you up to her office, but you hold your head up high, no matter what.”

  Ash smiled. “I will. Thanks.” When the doors opened, she stepped inside.

  The woman reached in and slipped the card into another slot. “I’m Della, by the way.”

  Ash stopped the doors from closing, “Ash. It doesn’t say what floor we’ll be on.”

  “The penthouse, of course.”

  The slight tremor in Ash’s voice probably gave away her jitters when she asked, “And what floor number is that?”

  “The seventy-fourth.” The woman put a comforting hand on her arm, misunderstanding her sudden nerves. “It’ll be okay, honey. Ms. McGuire isn’t as much of a monster as she likes people to believe. She helped me with the hospital bills when my husband took sick, but she doesn’t want anyone to know.” She paused and lowered her brows, suddenly uncomfortable at how much she’d said. “I don’t know why I told you just now, but you look terrified, and I want you to know she looks scarier than she really is.”

  Taking a deep breath, Ash nodded. “Thanks again.”

  The doors shut this time, and while Ash rode up in silence, Diva leaned into her legs. She absently played with the dog’s short, soft ears, and when the doors slid open, Ash was relieved to see there weren’t any windows in the reception area. Strange to have an elevator pass all seventy-three floors without stopping and open up directly into a reception room, but she seemed to remember something like that in Harcourt’s offices, too.

  This was where she guessed Phyla’s personal assistant would sit if she weren’t out clothes shopping for her. That had to be one of the strangest outcomes of the day so far. Somebody going out to buy her new clothes. When she’d answered the ad, she hadn’t known what to expect. In fact, it had taken her a week after seeing it to actually sit down at a computer and write a response.

  She’d managed to avoid all of Harcourt’s attempts to locate her up to that point, but the latest ad had been posted by an investigator her friend Darby knew and trusted. Darby had urged her to answer, so after a lot of thought, she had, and now here she was in a reception area that featured a sleek, curved desk made of black lacquer and accented with gold trim. The desktop itself was adorned with exquisite crystal accessories and fresh flowers.

  Since no one was there, she continued toward the mahogany double doors located behind and to the left of the assistant’s desk. One door stood open, and as she stepped through it, Ash stopped dead in her tracks. Her stomach lurched into her throat, and she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. One entire wall was nothing but floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the downtown skyline with its multi-story skyscrapers and clear blue sky above. Phyla McGuire sat with her back up against the window and her desk facing out into the room.

  Diva sat in front of Ash’s legs and leaned in, grounding her.

  Ash pulled in several deep breaths, put the window out of her mind, and looked down at her dog’s soft, golden eyes that helped her get her bearings. After a moment, she was able to glance around as long as she looked at anything other than that skyline. If she’d thought the conference room in the other building was ritzy, this office made it look like a middle school cafeteria.

  Above her head, a breathtaking chandelier hung from the high ceiling, casting a warm and inviting glow throughout the room. Textured wallpaper featuring delicate patterns in metallic tones adorned the walls, adding a definite touch of glamour to the office suite.

  The flooring was polished white marble with greyish veins running through it, and on it sat plush sofas and velvet ottomans, which Ash thought complimented the wallpaper perfectly. A long conference table ran the length of the right side of that massive window, and she hoped no one expected her to sit there.

  Before she could continue to survey the room, Phyla indicated a door to Ash’s left and spoke without looking up from her computer.

  “In there. My stylist will be here when you come out to do something with that filthy mop on your head. Whether you’re really who you say you are or not, I can at least contribute to the beautifying of the city by having him fix that disaster on the top of your head.”

  At the bark of laughter that burst from Ash’s mouth, Phyla finally looked up. If nothing else, she thought, those unusual amber-colored eyes were certainly alluring. She pointedly glanced at the open door into the bathroom, and still grinning, Ash obeyed. The woman had brought the damn dog, and Phyla opened her mouth to bite Ash’s head off but changed her mind at the last second.

  When the door closed behind them, Phyla leaned back in her chair and shut her eyes. She’d worked her entire adult life to get where she was today, and yet, that damned man had dangled the only prize that would or could ever bring her to demean herself by allowing a—what had Ash called herself—a skag to bathe in her personal bathing room. She quickly opened her eyes and made a note to tell Daphne to have the custodians thoroughly bleach the shower room when they cleaned that evening.

  The light for the phone in Daphne’s office lit up, and since Daphne hadn’t returned from her shopping expedition, Phyla pushed the button with an irritated jab. “Yes?”

  “Oh. Ms. McGuire. I didn’t expect….” The surprised voice of the security guard stuttered to a halt.

  “What is it?”

  “Um, some food was delivered for you. If, uh, Daphne isn’t available to come get it, I’d be happy to bring it up.”