“Absolutely.” I’m one hundred percent sure of that. “We’ll have to talk to Claire, though. Stanley told us that Claire is ‘taking some things over’ because your judgment is ‘questionable’?”

  “She said what?” Elena screeches, jumping down from her stool. “She’s family, but I’m gonna tan that girl’s hide. I’ve still got my wits about me. No doubt about that.”

  Elena seems to be determined to hunt Claire down right this minute, but a car engine growls outside and we run to the door to see what’s wrong. It’s Claire, speeding down the long driveway and then braking so hard the car jerks. The car’s barely shut off when she jumps out, speed walking for the front door.

  “Claire Luanne Reynolds, get your ass over here,” Elena bellows in a voice that seems about twenty decibels too loud for a woman her size and age.

  Luna whispers. “Ooh, her whole government name. She’s in deep.”

  Claire doesn’t hear Luna, but she damn sure hears Elena’s order, and she whirls, the fire in her eyes hitting Elena and then spreading to me and Luna. Bernard seems to be the only one saved from her dirty look. “What are you doing here? I told you to stay away from Aunt Elena.”

  She’s talking to me, and I’m quite willing to handle my own fights, but Elena puts a hand on her hip and starts dramatically waving the other one around. “I know you heard me. Get over here. I got some talking to do, and you got some listening to do, missy.” Elena doesn’t wait for Claire to get closer but rather bulldozes straight into it. “Are you seriously going around telling folks that I’m losing my mind? I’m sharp as a tack and more than willing to put one in your behind if I need to remind you of just how sharp I am.”

  Claire gives it right back, shouting in return. “Seriously? You must be losing your mind if you’re talking to these bozos.” She points at me, thankfully, because if her manicured finger had gotten anywhere near to Luna, I don’t think I could stop myself from protecting her.

  “I prefer Chief Clown Officer, if you don’t mind, or CCO for short,” I deadpan, which only incites Claire further. “It’s a board-level position.”

  “Shut up,” Claire snarls, like she can snap orders at me. To Elena, she says, “You can’t work with Blue Lake Assets. I already told Mr. Harrington that any further contact by his office would be referred to our lawyer. Seems like I need to give him a call.”

  Her threat should worry me, and maybe later it will, but right now, I’m too caught up in the moment and blurt out, “Guess it’s a good thing I’m not asking Elena to work with Blue Lake then, isn’t it?”

  That draws her up short. “What?”

  Elena fills her in on my proposal, and Claire’s anger grows exponentially with every word. “So you think you can waltz in here and take everything my aunt’s earned.”

  I shake my head, incredulous that she’d suggest such a thing. “Of course not!” I say dangerously. “But isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? Why are you so worried about what your aunt is doing with her money?”

  It’s a question that keeps coming up in my mind. It makes complete sense for Claire to protect her aunt, but she’s not doing that. She’s protecting the money. Also logical, but there’s something that doesn’t sit right about it. “Are you trying to take control of Elena, her money, or both?”

  Claire makes a sound that would be worthy of an internet meme for ‘pissed off Karen’ as she crosses her arms. “How dare you? You don’t know anything about me. Like the fact that Mr. Oleana has been showing me how to reconcile the accounts for years.”

  “He what?” Elena shrieks.

  “It’s what Uncle Thomas wanted,” Claire asserts with smug certainty.

  Elena shakes her head vehemently. “Thomas could want in one hand and shit in the other, and see which filled up faster. You were never going to manage the money. It’s a conflict of interest. You get your monthly allowance, same as I do, and leave the money-obsessing to someone qualified to do it.”

  Claire stomps her foot like she’s a toddler. “Allowance? Is that what you call the pittance Mr. Oleana gives me? I can’t live on that. Nobody can!”

  Luna raises her hand. “I bet most people would be quite grateful to be given an allowance when they didn’t do a thing to earn it besides be born into the right gene pool. Am I right?”

  Luna’s asking me, assuming that because my family has money too, I’ll have an opinion on this. I do, but we’re going to have to address her assumptions later because she’s dead wrong. “I haven’t gotten an allowance from my family trust since I was twenty-five and started working. Yes, I have a nest egg. It’s there if I have an emergency, but I don’t depend on it. My parents made sure that we all have a solid work ethic, know the value of a dollar, and that the only one we should spend is the one we earn. Seems like you missed that lesson, Claire.”

  “Well, at least I learned not to lie my way through life to get what I want,” she counters harshly.

  She’s got a fair point there, so I nod agreeably. “My dad taught me that too. Shame I didn’t learn it very well until recently.” I noticeably take Luna’s hand, unmistakably communicating that we are together. For real and forever this time.

  “Wow,” Claire sneers. “You must be really good on your knees.” She looks at Luna with undisguised condescension, and I half-expect Luna to go feral on Claire. Deservedly so, in my opinion, and I’d grab my popcorn and cheer my girl on if it comes to that. Luna stays still, though, being the better woman she is, and not getting the reaction she wants, Claire casts a cold stare my way. “Or you really need someone who thinks your manipulative asshole act is charming.”

  “Claire!”

  I hold out a hand, stopping Elena from whatever she’s about to say in our defense. “It’s okay. That’s what she thinks. She’s completely wrong, but this gives me a chance to correct her thinking.” I take a step toward Claire, and she defiantly lifts her chin to return my hard look.

  “Luna is good on her knees.” Luna squawks behind me, but I quickly continue, “but that’s only a small part of why I love her. She’s strong, beautiful, chaotic, and sees the world in a way I can only dream about. She makes every day better just by being there. And maybe I am a manipulative asshole, but if so, Luna knows exactly who and what I am. She’s probably the only one who does. And I didn’t trick her into loving me, but for some reason, she does—all the good and the bad—so I try to be better every day, for her.”

  Claire huffs, her eyes rolling so far back into her head that she can probably check out her own non-existent ass. “You’re not falling for this again, are you?” she asks Elena.

  “I have fallen exactly one time in my whole life, and it was for one Mister Thomas Cartwright. I knew something was up with Carter and Luna from the get-go, same as I know you have Mr. Oleana using estate funds to pay for Jacob’s piano lessons and several other bills, thinking I don’t have a clue. I signed off on the damn charges, Claire. Same as I signed off on your allowance and the ‘extra’ one Thomas gave you years ago when you asked him and not me, thinking you could get around me.”

  She stares Claire down, letting that sink in. “You think you’re pulling the wool over my eyes with any of that stuff? I know it’s all about the money for you, but giving you money kept you away from Thomas because I knew you’d break his heart eventually, and I would do damn near anything to keep that from happening. All he wanted was a family, and you were the only blood he had left. But you’re a greedy bitch. That money was a small price to pay to keep you at arm’s distance.”

  Claire’s mouth hangs open, her eyes wide in shock. “Why, I never!”

  “We know,” Bernard says. Quieter, he turns to me and Luna and says, “This has been a long time coming. Looks like I’ll be the one with the tea tonight. Stanley’ll be so mad he missed out.”

  Wait . . .

  “You came in on squealing tires, running to stop us from talking to Elena. How’d you know we were here?” I already know the answer, but I’m curious to see if she’ll fess up.

  “What? I was just coming over to check on Aunt Elena and . . . I saw your car.” There’s an obvious delay as she tries to create a story on the fly.

  “Stanley told you, didn’t he?” I deduce.

  Claire juts her chin out proudly. “He knows who’ll inherit the estate eventually, and who’ll be taking care of him. Or not.”

  “You did not threaten Stanley,” Elena gasps. “That man has given his whole life to the Cartwright family and is basically family himself. How dare you?”

  “It’s the truth,” Claire says. “He knows what’s good for him, who’s good for him.”

  Luna pipes up to add, “Not you.”

  I look at her in surprise, and she blinks rapidly. I’m not sure whether she meant to say that or only think it. But Elena’s look says she’s fully approving, and I suddenly wonder if Alphena might find a mentor in a kind old lady named Elena.

  Elena’s heard enough.

  “Let’s go talk to that man right now,” she says, brushing off her backside with no shame. “I’m gonna tell him that he doesn’t have to do a thing you say. I don’t want him so much as getting you a glass of water if you’re dying of dehydration. I won’t let you stress that poor man out with this nonsense.”

  She starts toward the house, and we all follow like soldiers into war.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY

  LUNA

  “Aunt Elena . . . wait . . . stop . . .” Claire is chasing after Elena, which speaks to how fast Elena is hoofing it across the side yard to the house. It doesn’t help that Claire is wearing heels that keep sinking into the grass, but still, pretty impressive for a woman Elena’s age.

  Bernard grumbles, eyeing the holes Claire’s leaving behind, and I have no doubt that he’s cussing her a blue streak in his mind.

  Elena barrels through the side door, already hollering. “Stanley! Stanley! Come here, you old coot!”

  Nelda pops in first, clearly surprised and concerned. “Elena?”

  “Where’s Stanley?” Nelda’s eyes widen in shock at Elena’s angry tone, and her shoulders jump to her ears quickly. Elena yells again, and Nelda disappears as quickly as she appeared with Bernard following behind her. “Staaan-leeey!”

  “Ma’am?” Stanley answers, hurrying down the hall. He’s more disheveled than when Carter and I arrived. His hair is standing up as if he’s been running his fingers through it, and his tie is pulled down several inches from its proper place. His eyes jump to Claire, and he visibly shrinks away from her.

  Elena whirls on Claire. “What in the Sam Hill did you tell him? He’s terrified of you!”

  Claire flinches, but Elena doesn’t really want an answer anyway. She turns back to Stanley, pointing a finger at him. “You listen and listen good, Stanley Hodgins. Whatever she’s told you” —she turns her finger to Claire so that she’s crystal clear— “is a big pile of steaming dog shit and nothing more.”

  “Aunt Elena, you’re hysterical,” Claire coos. “You should sit. That’ll help you calm down.”

  Claire tries to prod Elena toward a chair, but Elena jerks her arm out of Claire’s grip. “Don’t talk to me like I’ve lost my marbles. I’m as clear-headed as I’ve ever been, and you’re the same overbearing meddler you’ve always been.”

  Claire makes a noise of disbelief, clutching invisible pearls. I’m starting to see that reaction as a forced move she thinks makes her look innocent. She did it when Jacob said something she didn’t like, and now she’s doing it when Elena does the same thing.

  Elena huffs. “Oh, save the dramatics. You aren’t Scarlett O’Hara, that’s for damn sure.”

  “Ma’am?” Stanley leans between the two women. “What’s going on?”

  “You tell me,” Elena counters. “Did Claire tell you that you owed her some sort of loyalty? Threaten you?”

  Stanley looks back and forth, seeming unsure what to say or who to speak against. “I . . . uh, I . . .”

  Elena shakes her head in disbelief, her eyes sad. “She really did a number on you, didn’t she?”

  I burrow into Carter’s side, not liking the tension, and he takes my hand, running his thumb over the sensitive skin. Between the distraction of his touch and the support of his arm pressed along mine, I settle, but I don’t like the arguing.

  “Not that you’re hysterical, but sitting down to get all this into the open might not be a bad idea.” Carter’s recommendation is much more well-received than Claire’s, mostly because it comes from a well-intended place rather than Claire’s condescension. I think he’s also suggesting it thinking it’ll help me feel more comfortable.

  Elena presses her lips together and glares at Claire. “Yeah, let’s do that. First, though, Carter, call your father and have him get out here for dinner.”

  Carter nods. “Sure, when?”

  “Tonight. If you meant what you said.” Elena raises a brow sharply, questioning.

  I squeeze Carter’s hand supportively. We talked about this last night, Carter’s feelings about his family’s company, his role there, and his dreams for the future. I listened as Carter analyzed every angle, even deep-diving into the emotions of what being a part of his family means and whether not being at Blue Lake would change that. We didn’t come here lightly, and Carter didn’t pitch himself to Elena casually.

  Carter pulls his phone out of his pocket and calls while Elena herds Claire and Stanley into the front room.

  “Hey, Dad, it’s a long story, but I need you to come to Elena Cartwright’s for dinner. Leave now. I’ll explain when you get here.”

  He’s quiet, listening for a moment.

  “No. Tonight. It’s important. Please.”

  Carter sighs in relief. “Thanks. See you soon.” He hangs up and puts his phone back in his pocket. “He’s coming.”

  “You’re really sure?” I ask. “Last chance to make a run for it.” I tilt my head toward the front door with a smile, already knowing his answer.

  He smiles in return, the full charm version. “Let’s check on Claire.” I raise my brows in surprise, and he clarifies, “To see if Elena is done raking her over the coals yet. Is it bad that I want to see that?”

  I whisper back, “I hope not because I kinda want to see too.”

  In the front room, we find Elena reigning in a chair, with Claire and Stanley sitting on the couch, each of them hugging the ends to put as much space between them as possible. Claire’s cheeks are flushed and her eyes are hard, glinting with barely restrained anger.

  Stanley is frozen, other than his eyes pinging back and forth between the two women. He looks, sadly enough, like a beat-down dog that just pissed the rug and is wondering where the whooping’s coming from first.

  “Carter?” Elena pauses whatever rant she was on to check in. Carter dips his chin affirmatively. “Good. Now, where were we?”

  Silently, Carter guides me to the loveseat and then sits beside me, keeping my hand in his. I’m thankful for the distraction as they begin their conversation again, Stanley raising a finger. “You were talking about Thomas’s will.”

  “Right. Thanks.” She points at Stanley. “Thomas’s will left everything to me, obviously. Mr. Oleana has managed our family estate for decades and only recently decided that he would like to retire. I’ve got a financial brain, but managing your own estate when it’s this large isn’t optimal. I’m too close to it. It needs someone with some objectivity, like Carter.”

  Claire huffs. “Over my dead body.”

  “That can be arranged,” Elena replies, her brows climbing to her forehead with the threat. Claire glares back angrily through narrowed eyes. “As I was saying, Carter is going to coordinate with Pat so that the transition is seamless. And if you’re thinking you only have to wait until I kick the bucket, know that my will does not leave everything to you.” Elena points at Claire this time. “Under no circumstances will you receive any more than what Thomas wanted you to have—a reasonable monthly stipend.”

  “What?” Claire snaps.

  Elena focuses on Stanley. “Exactly like the rest of you.”

  “Me?” Stanley questions, his brow furrowed in confusion.

  “Of course. You, Nelda, Bernard. Y’all are family.” Elena’s eyes have gone soft as she tells Stanley what he means to her, what he meant to Thomas. “Just as much—if not more—than other people.”

  “You can’t be serious!” Claire shouts as she stands, her hands on her hips. “That’s my money! I’m family . . . blood! Not the hired help! I deserve it! It’s mine! Uncle Thomas wanted me to have it!”

  Every word she says has an exclamation mark after it, and her voice gets louder and higher as she ramps up. I cringe away from the noise, shrinking deeper into the loveseat, and feel voyeuristic. This is a family matter, and I’m not sure Carter and I should be here for this.

  Elena stands slowly, her eyes hard. “Claire, you’re mistaken. That money is not yours and will never be. And Thomas was a brilliant, loving, amazing man who cared for you very much. But he and I had conversations about this. The estate and you. I truly don’t know where you came up with this idea. It was never either of our intentions, and this only solidifies that feeling.” The coldness has melted away, leaving Elena seeming more hurt than anything by Claire’s actions and expectations.

  Trying to intimidate Elena, Claire threatens, “I’ll get a lawyer.”

  Elena chuckles mirthlessly. “With what money, dear? Do you think I’m going to fund a suit against myself?” She tilts her head. “You should be thankful for what you have, Mads, Jacob, and an allowance that lets you live quite comfortably.”

  Claire presses her lips together, and I can see her mind working behind her eyes. “Increase my allowance by twenty percent or you’ll never see Jacob again.”

  Whoa. Claire’s more evil than I thought. Would she really keep Elena’s grandchild from her over money?

  Elena sighs sadly. “What kind of mother would use her child that way?” But Claire’s not giving in. She crosses her arms, standing her ground. Elena walks over to a picture on the mantel, touching the frame gently right below Jacob’s face. “I see. You know I love Jacob with all my heart, and of course, I wish to see him.”