The meaning of Thanksgiving was brought home to her and made even more real as she looked from Ben to Quinten. She’d feared trusting those two men in the beginning, but she was so glad she’d taken a chance on them. She was thankful indeed as she watched her two lovers converse with their friends.
Quinten, the consummate tease, over-sexed and always inspiring laughter or a smile with his antics. Loving him was fun.
And Ben, so overprotective and steadfast in his desire to love her and take care of her, filling a need that she’d tried to ignore and bury deep. The funny thing was that he’d been filling that need for a while. Becoming lovers had only brought it to full bloom.
It was such a blessing to be loved by these two men who were so unique, and so necessary to her happiness. When she turned her attention back to her friend, it was to find her watching her. Grace gave her a smile of silent understanding.
Chapter Eighteen
Late November…
Camilla sat with Ben and Quinten amongst the large group of strangers that had met in Tom Barton’s attorney’s office for the reading of his will, after his funeral. Shock rippled through her system, accompanied by a chill, although she wasn’t sure if that could be attributed to the temperature in the darkly paneled office or the news she’d just received.
“What?” the coiffed and manicured blonde screeched as she jumped from her chair. Her brittle tone startled Camilla and broke the solemnity of the moment.
Camilla’s heart pounded as the lawyer finished his comments, and she looked at the strangers surrounding her, staring at her, some with hostility and others with curiosity. Ben shifted at her left, and Quinten, sitting at her right, stroked her palm gently as he held her hand. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights.
From his seat next to the woman, an older man muttered, “Sit down, Brittany. At least you get the house and an annual income.”
“I hate that house! I lived in it because he wouldn’t buy something closer to Dallas.”
“So sell it and quit your bitching,” said a younger and very disgruntled-looking woman from her seat across the room. “Daddy didn’t leave Mason and me hardly anything.” She glanced at a man who was similar in age, and he stuck his lip out and nodded petulantly.
Camilla hadn’t expected to be a part of all this family drama when she’d agreed to come to Tom Barton’s attorney’s office Tuesday afternoon. The funeral had been at ten o’clock earlier that same morning, and only a handful of the people in that room had even been there.
Tom’s attorney looked wearily over his reading glasses at the young woman, scanned the page in front of him, and read aloud from the document. “‘Shelley and Mason shall receive seventy-five thousand per year for the next ten years. That should give them time to pull their heads out of their asses, finish their educations, and get a good job supporting themselves.’” Camilla saw the briefest hint of emotion flicker on his lips before he looked up at Shelley. “Perhaps you could put some of your father’s financial suggestions to good use and invest it, make something out of…nothing.” In Camilla’s book, seventy-five thousand dollars per year was hardly “nothing.”
He read on until Shelley interrupted him and pointed at Camilla. “Why does she inherit practically everything?”
The attorney looked at Camilla sympathetically. She wasn’t even sure why she was in the room. “Tom’s reasons were his own, Shelley. I’m simply sharing information. As per Tom’s instructions, Ms. O’Neal inherits the bank accounts, the oil wells, the mineral rights, the acreage—”
The older man haughtily held up his hand. “Please, you don’t need to go through the list again.”
Mason, who was still pouting, asked, “Can we get it all in a lump sum up front?”
“No. Tom stipulated that we were to send the amount specified on January first for the subsequent ten years after his death.”
Shelley was aghast. “We have to wait until January?”
The attorney nodded and continued with the reading of Tom’s will. The chatter faded as she recalled all the conversations she’d had with Tom over the last few years. Because she was interested in running her own business and would need practical advice, she’d listened to his suggestions and had been pleasantly surprised at the results. She never would’ve guessed that he intended to leave his vast wealth to her, of all people.
“We’re fighting this,” Brittany said as she rose again from the chair and marched from the room. She had been Tom’s wife. Camilla hadn’t even known Tom was married. She didn’t look old enough to be Shelley and Mason’s mother, and Camilla recalled that he’d mentioned being married many years before but his wife had died.