Page 108 of Most Eligible Billionaire

I make her tell me all the stories she can remember. We stand in the wet, sucking sand together, the ocean swashing around our ankles, watching Carly and Bess swim, and Vicky tells me little anecdotes. One after another.

We laugh about it. It feels good. No—it feels utterly amazing.

“I’m glad she had you around,” I say.

She kisses me on the shoulder. “I’m glad I could be.”

“Why do you think my mother chose you?”

“I don’t know,” she says.

“Maybe it’s silly to keep wondering about it, but I do. Do you think my mother chose you because she sensed you have an allergy to guys like me? Did you two talk about that sort of thing?”

“Hmm.”

“I know she ostensibly chose you on the basis of your being a dog whisperer, but she could’ve done a lot of messed-up things with that will. Yet she chose you.”

“I really think it was about the dog,” she says. “She loved that dog. Even the last words she said to me…” She stops, clearly regretting going down this road.

“It’s okay, you can tell me,” I say. “Please. Tell me. They were the last words she said. I want to know.”

“Well, they were about the dog. Clutching at him, and she goes,I love you, Pokey.”

My heart stutters. “What did you say?”

“I love you, Pokey.I don't know why she called Smuckers that, you know, there at the end. I never heard her call him that, but it had to be Smuckers she was talking to. Smuckers is a little pokey, you have to admit.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat.

“What is it?” she asks, looking up into my eyes.

“Thank you,” I say.

“For what?”

I pull her to me, dizzy with the whooshing ocean and this beautiful woman and my bittersweet heart. “Just…all of it.”

That night, Brett begins his texting assault. He has juicy information from the PI to share. I tell him I’m not interested—the last thing I want to do is to shatter the trust between us. Vicky will tell me things when she’s ready.

Brett won’t let up. Eventually I just block his ass. He’ll be pissed, but I want this time away. My assistant will let me know if there’s a corporate situation to deal with.

The competency hearing is scheduled, of course. But I’ve decided to call it off.

She’s assured me things will be made right. I trust her to do the right thing. I trust us to figure out a way forward together. And whatever Vicky’s hesitation is about us being together, I’ll overcome it.

I’ll call off the hearing when the mediators are back in the office on Tuesday, and then I’ll tell her.

There’s a fireworks show on Monday night. Carly and Bess go up to catch it at Cooper’s Beach. I’ve arranged a candlelight dinner on the veranda.

Vicky is stretched out on the bench seat next to me, leaning back against me, feet splayed out to the side. She has on a pink skirt and gold sandals that look good with her yellow blouse. She’s been wearing brighter colors, but this is really different, the result of shopping in town with the girls. She looks good in colors. It seems right for her. The jewelry she makes is colorful. Why not her clothes?

A boom sounds from up above, followed by some smaller ones. “I'm glad the fireworks are going off behind us,” I say. “Because if they were right out there over the water? I’d have to arrest myself for multiple cliché violations.”

“The foam on the waves is just as bright. It looks almost neon,” she says, staring out at the water in the moonlight.

“It’s the phosphorescence.” I toss a piece of steak to Smuckers.

She pulls on my lapels like she does when she wants me to come close and kiss her. “Come here.”

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