The Forgotten One (The Heirs #2)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Isa and Sean McNeilly had met in college. Their love story involved two years of dating while they both earned their degrees and two years of separation when Sarah’s mother took an internship in Ireland at a health organization that dealt with global and cultural disease. Her specialty was in research, which was where Sarah inherited the desire to know the facts before printing a story.

Sarah’s parents had what she referred to as the perfect balance. Where her mother was serious, her father was quick to tell a joke. His dry humor was made even better with his stoic delivery.

Isa spent a lot of time traveling for her work, and Sean had no problem holding everything down at home when his wife was furthering her career.

Her dad had a degree in accounting, and after three years in the field, he figured out he hated numbers and quit. He liked people and despised sitting behind a desk. He fell into management. The running joke in the family was that Dad’s time in a job lasted for about as long as a new car has a new car smell. Then it was time to “trade it in.”

Her parents’ support of each other was the cornerstone of their marriage.

And something Sarah refused to live without when it came to a life partner.

Thanksgiving at the McNeillys’ was a loud affair. It involved her parents and brother. An uncle on her father’s side with his family. An aunt on her mother’s side with her grown son and his wife, both sets of grandparents ... and football.

It was chaos and love.

And something Sarah had taken for granted her entire life.

Imagining what Max’s life must have been like during the holidays made her heart ache. He told her it was fine, that he didn’t miss what he never had ... but she didn’t believe him. Her thoughts were on him and his first holiday with his siblings. Were they watching football? Who were the cooks in the family? Was there a pie that Max loved and didn’t feel like it was the holiday without it?

Sarah kept a running tape of questions rolling in her head as she slowly peeled the potatoes.

“I heard you had a boyfriend,” Sarah’s aunt Della said.

True.

“A rich boyfriend,” Isa told her sister.

Also true.

“Rich doesn’t mean decent,” Sarah’s father chimed in.

“He’s not decent?” Della snapped her gaze to Sarah.

Sarah opened her mouth to respond and was interrupted.

“You don’t know that, Sean,” Isa said.

“We don’t not know that.”

Sarah glared at her dad.

“Sarah is a very good judge of character. I’m sure she wouldn’t date anyone who is uncivilized.”

“I married uncivilized—look how well that worked out for me.” Aunt Della was divorced. Her ex-husband was the crazy sauce in the family that everyone tried to ignore but couldn’t once the man started drinking.

Aunt Della looked directly at Sarah. “Don’t date the bad boys, Sarah. They sound great in a romance novel, but in person ... not so much.”

“He took her on a private jet. Can you imagine?”

“Don’t let a private plane make you overlook the obvious,” her father warned.

Her mother and Della started up at the same time, but Sarah talked over them in order to get a word in.

“Max is one of the most caring and giving men I have ever met. The private plane wasn’t about impressing me, Dad ... it was because the media wouldn’t let him breathe. And tattoos and motorcycles don’t make him a bad boy. This isn’t the fifties.”

“My boss is a hippie,” her mother said. “He drives a motorcycle.”

“It’s a scooter, Isa. It doesn’t qualify,” Sean pointed out.

“It never hurts to date a rich man,” Aunt Della said. “If I ever get married again, it’s going to be for money. Love gave me a deadbeat that didn’t work or bother taking out the trash.”

Aunt Della was a little on the bitter side.

Sarah pushed her glasses higher on her nose with the back of her hand and continued to peel the potatoes.

“Do you think this is serious, honey?” her mom asked.

Again, Sarah opened her mouth, and her father jumped in.

“Good God, Isa, she hardly knows the guy.”

Sarah dropped her hands to the counter and looked at her dad. “When did you become such a pessimist?”

“Well, it’s true.”

“And how long did it take for you to realize Mom was serious?” Sarah asked.

“He said he was going to marry me on our first date,” her mom answered.

“That was a young man’s pickup line.”

“Yet here you are thirty-some-odd years later,” Sarah pointed out, “playing good cop, bad cop with the guy I’m dating.”

Her mom stood a little taller. “I’m the good cop, in case you were wondering, Sean.”

“If you ever need money, you ask us, not him,” her father demanded.

Yeah, right. That was the last thing she was going to do. Being a full-fledged adult meant you didn’t keep asking your parents to bail you out, which was a big reason why she was working so hard on keeping her job at RMI . “Who said anything about me needing money?” she asked.

Her father held her stare.

Noise from the living room suggested the favored team scored a touchdown.

Sarah’s dad grabbed his beer and walked out of the kitchen.

“Your father means well, honey. He worries, that’s why he is acting the way he is.”

Her aunt lowered her voice. “How was the private jet?”

Sarah set the peeler down and grabbed a hand towel. “It was fantastic. And before you ask, no ... we didn’t join the mile-high club.”

Sarah’s mom laughed.

Aunt Della scowled. “That’s disappointing.”

Sarah dropped the towel on the kitchen island and walked into the living room.

Her dad was standing behind the sofa, eyes glued to the television.

She walked up beside him and put her hand through the crook of his arm and placed her head on his shoulder.

Her dad softened and leaned his head into hers.

She nodded toward the patio.

They walked away from the noise and into the relative quiet.

“Do you want to tell me what that was all about, Dad?”

It wasn’t often she saw her father uncomfortable in a situation. Normally, he radiated confidence and stability. It was one of her favorite things about him. Only that wasn’t what she was witnessing now.

He sighed and led her over to the love seat and encouraged her to sit next to him.

“I don’t want my little girl to be blinded by a rich man’s money.”

She drew in a long breath. “I’d be offended if I didn’t know you loved me.”

“Offended?” he asked.

“That you think so little of me to believe that a man’s bank account is all it takes.”

He looked her in the eye. “What am I supposed to think? You’ve known this guy for what ... a month?”

“About,” she agreed.

“And every time someone mentions him, you get this dreamy, dazed look in your eye. That isn’t like you.”

Dreamy?

“Did it ever occur to you that might just be because I like this guy more than I have anyone else I’ve dated?”

Her dad pressed his lips together. “And he didn’t flatten the guy that gave you that black eye.”

The bruised eye was all but a memory, but now that she heard her father say that very thing for the second time, she realized what this was all about.

Sarah regarded her father with a tiny smile. “I get it. You’re worried that Max is some kind of soft, rich man that can’t or won’t protect me.”

“Well, he didn’t.”

“Daddy. I assure you that Max is not that guy. I grew up hearing you tell me to never depend on a man to put a roof over my head or food in my mouth. And to set my bar higher than the Empire State Building. To demand respect and accept nothing but the best because your daughter deserved the best.”

He lifted his chin as if to say, Damn right, I taught you this.

“My bar is high, Dad. Why do you think I haven’t dated that many guys? And I certainly haven’t brought many around here. Max is respectful, and not just to me. He helps complete strangers and overtips the waiters. He opens doors and shuffles around me to make sure he is walking on the sidewalk closer to oncoming traffic. Does that sound like a man using his money to get the girls?”

Her father looked away. “No.”

“No,” she repeated. “Give me more credit, Dad.”

Her father wrapped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. “Fine!”

That sounded like a forced fine , but she’d take it.

Any worries that Chase and Alex’s mother would be uncomfortable around him were dissipated the moment Vivian walked in the door and threw her arms around Max like she’d known him for years.

Gaylord, Vivian’s boyfriend, patted Max on the back and called him son.

It was really freaking strange.

It didn’t take long for the kitchen to become the central place where they gathered while everyone had some kind of task to help with the meal.

“Tell me, what did young Max want to be when he grew up?” Gaylord asked.

Max laughed at the question, took a look at the man’s hat, and said, “Not a cowboy.”

“That’s a cryin’ shame.”

“He’s serious about his cowboys,” Alex told Max.

Piper half stood, half sat on a stool next to the island, mixing some kind of sweet potato dish together. “You should see the cowgirl hat he already has for this one.” Piper patted her belly, which seemed to have grown overnight.

“Let’s get that little filly out and I’ll saddle up a pony.”

Piper moaned. “She can’t get here fast enough. I can’t sit, I can’t stand.”

“Can’t sleep,” Chase chimed in.

“I remember that part,” Vivian said. “Chase was easy ... it was Alex that gave me trouble.”

Alex lifted both hands in the air, one with a spoon, the other with an empty bowl. “Winner, winner!”

Max watched Alex truly relax for the first time since they’d met. She wore jeans and a sweater, her hair back in a slick ponytail, with little to no makeup.

She, Chase, and Vivian were having their own wine tasting party with the cheese board Alex had put together—Alex’s self-proclaimed solo contribution to any holiday meal. Chase brought up random bottles of wine from the expansive cellar, having no idea what any of them cost. Once they all gave the wine a score, Piper looked up the label and told them what it cost.

Max’s conclusion ... Aaron Stone spent a lot of money on wine.

Half-empty bottles sat to the side.

Chase pulled the cork from the fourth bottle and poured a splash into three glasses.

Gaylord nursed a whiskey, and Max was fine with the one glass of wine from the first bottle that they’d opened.

The way he saw it, Chase and Alex could use the relaxation that the wine was offering in light of the huge amount of stress they’d been under since Aaron died. And with Piper looking like she could pop at any moment, Max felt better to know that someone would be sober enough to drive, should they need it.

“If not a cowboy, then what was the dream?” Gaylord asked Max again.

Max considered the question for a moment. “Employed.”

The tall, boisterous Texan pointed a finger in Max’s direction with a nod. “I like that.”

“This one is from Burgundy, France,” Chase said as he handed the wine to Alex and Vivian.

They paused what they were doing and sipped.

Alex went in without swirling and sniffing.

Vivian took a little more time, put her nose in the bottle, then swirled and sipped.

Chase looked at the glass, shrugged, and swallowed.

They all hummed.

“I like it,” Alex said.

“I like the last one better.”

“It’s delicious,” Vivian declared.

Piper stopped mixing and waddled next to Chase, looked at the bottle, then typed it into her cell phone and started to scroll.

“Whoa!” Piper cleared her throat, looked at the bottle again. “You guys might want to finish that bottle,” she told them.

“Oh yeah ... how much?” Alex asked with a laugh.

“Six thousand, four hundred—”

“For a bottle of wine?” Max cut her off.

Chase laughed.

“You don’t want to see my whiskey collection,” Gaylord said.

“Six thousand dollars? Really, Gaylord?” Max asked.

“There’s no point in makin’ money if you aren’t going to spend it, son.”

Max poured the glass of wine he wasn’t really drinking down the drain and held it out for Chase.

He took a sip while everyone watched.

Max swished it around as if he knew what that was supposed to do and then swallowed.

“It tastes red,” he declared.

Alex slapped the counter, laughing.

Piper moved back to her workstation.

Max watched while Chase poured a good three ounces of wine that cost $240 an ounce down the drain. Then he reached for the previous bottle, an eight-hundred-dollar bottle, and poured himself a glass.

It was all incredibly mind-boggling. “Am I the only one that is getting A Christmas Carol vibe here?” Max asked.

Alex nodded several times. “That’s what I thought the first time we came here after the funeral. We were scouting the house, looking for the artwork itemized in the trust, and Chase showed me the safe.”

“I remember that,” Piper said.

“What safe?” Max asked.

Chase put his glass down. “Oh shit ... we haven’t shown you.”

“Prepare to have your mind blown,” Alex told Max.

Chase waved to leave the kitchen. “Gaylord, I’d love to have your take on this.”

Max followed Chase as they walked out of the kitchen.

They climbed the stairs and headed straight to the bedroom Max occupied.

“We stumbled on this ... and by we , I mean Piper. There was nothing in the trust that said this was here.”

Chase walked straight to the walk-in closet.

“There’s not a safe in there.”

Chase just smiled, walked to the back wall, and reached for something on one of the upper shelves. Max heard a click, and the next thing he knew, Chase was pushing open a secret door.

“Holy crap,” Max said.

“Impressive,” Gaylord said.

“It’s a tiny room, but ...” Chase stepped inside.

Max poked his head around the door, and sure enough, a giant safe sat on one side of the room.

Chase reached on top of the safe and pulled down a piece of paper. Then proceeded to put the combination in and open the heavy metal door.

Max’s jaw dropped.

The safe was nearly large enough to put a person inside. A small person, but a person nonetheless, and it was stuffed.

Max saw stacks of cash before Chase shuffled out of the room so Max could get inside.

Standing in front of a gold mine, Max took it all in.

Bundled stacks of hundred-dollar bills sat beside other stacks of more colorful money. “I’m guessing these aren’t pesos?” Max asked.

Gaylord looked around the corner and blew out a whistle.

“We haven’t looked at it all,” Chase told him. “What we did see is dollars, euros, English pounds, dirhams, yuan, even rubles.”

“Russian currency?” Max asked.

“Crazy, right?”

Max picked up a stack, moved it aside, and looked behind it. There were coin containers lined up. He took one out and twisted off the top.

“Gold coins.”

Max stepped aside so Gaylord could get a good look. “Damn, son.”

“The deeds to property, physical bonds, receipts of expensive purchases, pink slips for the cars ... that makes sense ... but this?” Chase asked. “What did he think he was going to do with it? The safety deposit boxes in the banks look the same, only smaller.”

Gaylord lifted a pistol, checked the chamber, and put it back.

Max noticed a shotgun standing on one side and what looked like a box for ammunition.

“Was Aaron into something illegal?” Max asked.

Chase shrugged. “No idea.”

“I understand backup,” Gaylord told them. “Having cold hard cash and precious coins is smart. But this ...” He shook his head.

“How do you even spend that?” Max asked.

“You don’t,” Gaylord replied and stepped out of the room.

Max stepped forward, put the gold coins back in the safe, and closed the door.

“Your father was obsessed with more. More hotels, more wealth, more clout.”

“More women,” Max added.

“Exactly. This may very well be ego. I wouldn’t have put it past the man.”

Max closed the secret door, and the three of them stood in the closet, talking.

“But to take large chunks of cash out of an account just to put in a safe doesn’t sit right. It’s why Alex and I didn’t do anything with it.”

“If there was something your father was hiding, it will come out,” Gaylord said. “Max is a good example of that.”

Max nodded and shrugged.

“That requires some thought, son. I’ll let you know if I come to any conclusions.” Gaylord slapped Chase on the back. “Now ... since I have you away from your mother, there’s something I want to run past you.”

Chase turned to face Gaylord. A smile snuck into his expression as if he knew what was coming.

Max felt clueless ... but not for long.

“Your mother and I ... we’re not getting any younger.”

Chase stayed silent; his eyes opened wider.

“I think you know how I feel about her. I want to remove the name Stone and replace it with Morrison.”

“Are you asking for my permission to marry my mother?” Chase smiled from ear to ear.

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds downright ridiculous. Hell no, I’m not asking for your permission. I’m going to ask her either way. I do, however, want your blessing. You are her son, and I think that’s the right thing to do.”

Chase raised his hand to shake Gaylord’s.

The Texan slapped his palm against Chase’s and pulled him in for a hug.

Max watched as the two men summed each other up and approved of what they saw. Max had never seen anything like that play out in his life, but he was damn happy to be watching it now. It showed a lot of character for a man twice Chase’s age to offer such respect.

While Vivian wasn’t his mother ... and Gaylord wouldn’t be Max’s stepfather, he was starting to understand what it meant to have a family.

And he liked it.

The two of them started back downstairs while Max held back. He hadn’t talked to Sarah and wanted to catch her before it got too late.

Her soft hello made him smile.

“How is your Thanksgiving?” he asked.

“Let’s see ... Aunt Della is a half a step away from the Betty Ford Clinic and will be crashing on the couch tonight. Grandpa McNeilly is snoring in the recliner. How the man can sleep with everyone yelling about the game is mind-boggling. My cousin is playing a drinking game with my brother, we’re all stuffed with appetizers, and the turkey has just been pulled out of the oven. How is yours?” she asked.

“No one is asleep. But Alex, Chase, and their mom are past tipsy, but in a fun way.”

“Are things weird with the mom and Morrison there?”

“Not at all. They’re good people. Morrison all but asked Chase if he could ask Vivian to marry him.”

“What?” Sarah raised her voice.

“Yeah, it was kinda cool.” Beyond cool, but Max didn’t want to sound like a complete sap.

“Then the first family holiday is a success?”

Max nodded even though Sarah wasn’t in the room. “Beats Vegas.”

“I’m happy for you, Max. You deserve happy.”

Sarah made him happy. “What are you doing for the rest of the weekend?” he asked.

She didn’t miss a beat. “You, I hope.”

Max tossed his head back. He heard his name being yelled over his own laughter.

He kept talking as he made his way downstairs. “I’m not one for Black Friday shopping. Maybe we can find something better to do.”

“I’m all about the online angle.”

“Max? Get down here,” Chase yelled without laughter.

Max lost his smile. “Hold on,” he told Sarah.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

He doubled his pace and stepped into the kitchen to see everyone scrambling.

Vivian was tossing off her apron.

Alex was shoving food back into the refrigerator.

Chase stood with his arm around Piper.

And Piper was standing in a pool of water.

Gaylord was the only calm one in the room. “Looks like the little filly wants to join our Thanksgiving dinner.”

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked again.

Piper clenched her belly and winced.

Max looked at the floor.

“Piper’s water broke.”