"I think this can become a game of semantics that I will indubitably lose."
"Why, because I'm a mom?"
"Exactly."
"Do you still want to do this? Really?" I ask him, wondering if we should cut our loses, screw the cash prize, and just go home. Me to my daughter, him to his hotel room.
"Do you?"
"Can you just man up and say what you want?" I brace myself for his reply.
"I want you."
"Stop it, Landon. I can't play that game."
"Fine," he says, seeming to swallow the rest of his words. "Let's do what we came here to do. Show them how in love we are. How responsible I am. Fuck, they'll think I've changed completely, now that a child is involved."
"We can try," I tell him, wanting to try because, even if my heart is all wobbly, falling all over in places it shouldn't, I do want the money. It's what I came here to do. Not fall for a guy I have no claim over.
I came here for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I came here to change my life.
Landon
Holding her hand as we walk back in the house isn't difficult. Mostly because watching Fiona and Geoffrey's ghastly reaction to the entire scene is priceless. Everyone has their breakfast dishes cleared, and they appear to have been waiting for us to make our return.
I knew our detour in the shed caused them quite a wait, but they were clearly on pins and needles for the explanation and hadn't gone anywhere.
"So, you knew about her daughter?" Fiona sputters to me after we explained.
Claire lets out a long exhale, and I look at her, realizing she was nervous to walk back in here and face my family. She smiles, her eyes brighter, like she is relieved.
"Of course I knew," I tell them. "What do you think? That I wouldn't know about my fiancée's daughter?"
"Last night I didn't say I was a waitress because I didn't know what you might think. And I so want your respect," Claire says. "Not that you would ever judge me – the woman marrying your son-but I get insecure about my line of work."
"Which is bollocks," I say, leaning into my parents for this priceless line. "Because we all know a mother's job is the hardest occupation there is."
Dad doesn't speak, and I watch him watch Mum, knowing her reaction is going to matter quite a bit.
"Well," Mum says, sitting across from us, wiping a tear from her eye. "Now that it's all cleared up ... can you tell us about your daughter? Our future granddaughter?"
Claire picks up her cup of now-frigid coffee and takes a sip, swallowing with a grimace. The maid comes around with a new cup and swaps it out.
"Thank you," Claire says, and she pauses again, as if not wanting to speak. Which is quite unlike her. She never seems stuck on what to say. She's always appeared effortless.
But then again, her appearance was deceiving. She's been living a life that wasn't wholly hers.
"My daughter is Sophia. And I ran out because-no offense, of course, Fiona, Geoffrey, but-I get very protective of her. And you seemed almost ... accusatory of the fact that I have a little girl."
At this, Dad's eyes furrow, his gaze landing on my brother.
"Why must you insist on stirring the pot until it overflows?" Dad asks him.
"I'm just trying to look out for your best interests, Father." Geoffrey shakes his head slightly. "Landon shows up here, unannounced, clearly wanting to prove something to you, prove his worthiness. It concerns me. His intentions have never been honorable before."
"I'm not trying to prove anything," I start, but Claire tugs on my wrist, and I clench my jaw, forcing myself to be quiet.
"Meanwhile," Geoffrey says, "I've spent the last decade earning your respect, only for you not to take my advice seriously."
"Is that what it's called?" Dad asks.
"Henry," Mum says, tugging on his wrist the same way Claire did with mine. Apparently the women in the house are more cool and collected than the men.
Well, some of the women. Fiona seems to be spreading her claws, ready to pounce.
"What, Helen?" Dad asks, looking at his wife. "We all know Geoffrey's ethics, and the way he has compromised the company's integrity."
"That's ridiculous," Fiona roars. "He is doing everything in his power to sa – "
"Enough," Mum declares, cutting Fiona off. "I don't want to discuss this anymore. We have a lovely day planned. And I don't want it ruined. Please, children. Can we just talk about something sweet? Something good? The last thing any of us needs is a fight in the family."
"Especially when it's already damn near falling apart," Geoffrey mutters under his breath, and I don't understand what he means.
But I want to.
"Please, children," Mum begs. "Just be nice."
The only one who seems to care what Mum wants is Claire.
She smiles, completely ignoring the ruckus at the other end of the table, and says, "Sophia would love it here, on your property. She and I both love the garden displays at the Bellagio every season. We go every quarter to see the new design the gardeners have created. Even though I was crying when I left breakfast, I was able see some of the your gardens, Helen. Do you think you could show us more?"
"I would love to. And, yes, those displays at the Bellagio are just magnificent. Henry and I visited Landon for a few days last year, and we went. On display was a fall garden, complete with scarecrows and mossy trees. It was just gorgeous."
"I remember that one," Claire says. "In fact, Sophia decided to be a scarecrow for Halloween after seeing it."
"And who is with Sophia now?" Mum asks.
"She's with my mother. We live with her; we're practical people. And the truth is, my life wouldn't work without my mom. She's my saving grace, for sure. I work day shifts, now that Sophia is in kindergarten, so it isn't too much of a burden on her."
I watch her speak, her slender neck graceful, her eyes light and alive as she mentions her daughter. I see the lines of worry across her arched brow and I wonder how I had missed this before, the truth that Claire has a little girl.
I'm sure that is who she's always texting, calling about. Pacing the room in worry over. It suddenly clicks, the reason she forgoes better shifts, and as I look at her all I see is sacrifice. All I see is beauty.
"Shall we go on a walk then?" I ask. Everyone nods in agreement.
I watch Fiona and Geoffrey scowl as we stand. They exchange whispers and shake their heads.
But I just take Claire's hand in mine. And follow.
Chapter Seventeen
Claire
After a walk around the garden and a light lunch, everyone goes their separate ways to rest.
As I climb the stairs to the bedroom Landon and I share, I smile, liking the luxury of a midday nap. That isn't something I'm accustomed too. Life in Vegas is go-go-go. Life in the English countryside is on pause.
Landon is already in the room, sprawled out on the bed, a laptop open before him.
"Are you working?" I ask.
He laughs. "Right, because of my prestigious job I must focus on."
"Stop putting yourself down."
"Okay, Mum."
"Not funny," I say, swatting him with a pillow.
"Sort of funny? Maybe?"
"No." I smirk. "Honestly though, what are you up to?"
"I'm trying to figure out what Geoffrey meant this morning about the family damn near falling apart. Do you think he meant the business?"
"I'm sure he meant that since the company isn't digging for blood diamonds, the whole thing is a complete waste. He seems like a greedy ass. Turning a fancy boutique diamond store into something popping up at strip malls? Kinda tacky, isn't it?"
"You're so cynical, Claire," Landon says, closing the computer. "But I'm sure you're right, that Geoffrey's just fighting with Dad about money. I can't find anything online about the company being in shambles. Not that I have access to anything confidential."
"For now." I smile mischievously. "Soon enough you'll have this whole thing. They love us, Landon. Your mom and dad think we're adorable. They absolutely buy our story, and they hate Geoffrey right now. Whatever he's been up to, it pisses your dad off. Which is a win for us."
"My God, woman, you are ruthless."
"I know. It's just ... now that you know about Sophia, you can see how this money would change my life."
"Now I feel like a jackass. I can just give you the money. You don't need to be here with me to get it."
"You have a quarter of a million dollars?"
"Nearly. I won a hundred grand last week. And I usually play what I have, but I haven't been back to the tables since. I can give you that."
"Is that literally everything you have?" I ask him. For some reason I thought Landon was seriously loaded.
He sits up, running his hands through his hair, clearly uncomfortable. "You wanna talk money?" he asks, a slight frown on his face.
"I don't know. I guess. You just seem so freaking rich."