Heart Strings Café opened in my first year of college. I discovered it when Sylvie tried to hook me up with a blind date and the guy invited me to meet him here. The place hadn’t changed one bit: it was small but flamboyant, carrying the colored furniture and checkerboard tile floor trademark of the retro sixties. I loved this place, not just the food but the whole Night Fever atmosphere, and tried to come here often. Taking in the vintage records on the vintage harvest gold colored wall, I realized this might not be the right place to meet a lawyer from London.
Too late for that.
I spent the next few minutes in edgy silence, alternating between watching my car through the window, and watching the door. At six sharp, a tall guy carrying a briefcase walked in and stopped in the doorway to scan the café. Given the fact that there was no one in here but me and an elderly couple, my chances of being overlooked were pretty slim, and yet for some reason I found myself standing and waving him over.
Jake Clarkson was a tall man in his forties with sandy hair, a strong jaw, and sharp, gray-blue eyes. His tailored suit fit him to perfection as he stretched out a manicured hand to greet me.
“Miss Stewart. It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Brooke,” I offered, returning his confident smile, and pointed at the seat opposite from mine. “Please.”
“Thank you. Please call me Jake.” He lowered himself into the plush chair and undid the first button of his suit jacket, as though he wanted to infuse a sense of ease into this meeting but not too much. My gaze followed him as he pulled a few sheets out of his leather briefcase and placed them neatly in front of him, resting an expensive-looking pen on top of them.
“Good,” he said by means of starting the actual conversation.
The air was charged with foreboding, which I attributed to the fact that lawyers scared the crap out of me. I knew my fear was unfounded, and yet I couldn’t help the slight tremble of my hands.
The waiter appeared, and we ordered—a tall latte for me, espresso for Jake—and then we waited in silence until our beverages were served. I watched him take a sip of his coffee, indifferent to the heat that would have burned my tongue. My people knowledge was pretty basic, but it was good enough to help me draw the conclusion that Jake Clarkson was a tough guy, and not just when it came to sipping hot beverages.
“My firm has been trying to get in touch with you for two weeks, Brooke.” The thin skin beneath his eyes crinkled, but I didn’t quite feel his amusement.
“I was away on business. Europe.”
“Ah.” He nodded sympathetically, as though he knew exactly what I was talking about.
“I gather you had a nice trip?”
“I did, thank you.” My cheeks flamed up at the sudden memory of lazy days in Jett’s arms. You said you flew over from London?”
He nodded. “Yesterday morning. Your roommate told me when you’d be back, and I decided it might be the best way to share the news.” His gray-blue gaze flickered to life as he pulled out a sheet of paper. My curiosity killing me already, I peered over the rim of my cup.
“Did I win the lottery? Because if I did, I can tell you it must be a mistake. I don’t do lotteries.” I laughed to mask the nervousness in my voice.
“No, Brooke.” He pushed the sheet of paper toward me so I could read it. “It’s a testament.”
“A what?” I frowned, grabbing the paper. My eyes almost jumped out of their sockets as I read the title, and all of a sudden, my vision blurred and I almost fainted. It couldn’t be. But there in front of me, it said: The last will and testament of Alessandro Lucazzone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT
OF
ALESSANDRO LUCAZZONE
I, Alessandro Lucazzone, of Bellagio, being of sound and disposing mind, do hereby make, publish and declare the following to be my last Will and Testament, revoking all previous wills and codicils made by me. This Will may at any time be revoked by me at my sole discretion.
ARTICLE 1
IDENTIFICATION OF FAMILY
I declare that I was married to Maria Agrusa, to which I have referred herein as my ‘spouse’. We had no children, living or deceased.
All of the properties of my estate (the “residue”), after payment of any taxes or other expenses of my estate as provided below, including the property subject to a power of appointment hereby shall be distributed to BROOKE MARY STEWART.
I sucked in a sharp breath at seeing my name. My mind was spinning. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I was in shock because I couldn’t think clearly. My brain was numb.
“Do you understand what this is, Brooke?” Jake asked, forcing me to look up.