Page 68 of Just One Look
But enough moping.
I drive through the steel-arched gate of the Burlingtons’ impressive estate to pick Sammy up from his playdate. Mrs. Burlington, a recently widowed thirty-three-year-old former New York designer, has earned quite a reputation for the way she climbed the ladder in the cutthroat fashion world, culminating in her marrying the obscenely wealthy—and recently deceased—sixty-eight-year-old owner of the company she oversees from the mansion she now lives in with her four-year-old son.
I’m not judging her.
I know what it’s like to be under scrutiny, and there’s no gossip worse than small-town gossip. Even if it’s true that she’s a gold digger, she’s an adult and can live her life however she pleases. I just find it funny that Wagner is too scared to pick up his own son from her. He made up some bullshit excuse about having to take an important business call. Yeah, right. He’s just scared she’s going to try and dig her nails into him. I finally have some new material to give him shit about.
The stark white stucco mansion, with its asymmetrical façade and cantilevered second floor, is probably the most modern-looking house in the county and stands in sharpcontrast to the more traditional gardens that surround it, filled with soft-pink peonies, pale-blue delphiniums, and creamy-white roses.
I ring the doorbell and am swiftly greeted by a butler straight out ofDownton Abbeywho escorts me to a massive living room. “Uncle Kick!” Sammy’s face lights up when he sees me walk in. He drops his LEGO and bolts over to give me a hug. “Wanna see what we made?”
“Sure, buddy.”
A heavy, feminine scent fills the air. I spin around. “Ah, Mrs. Burlington. Hi. I’m Maverick Benson. Sammy’s uncle.”
“He’s Uncle Kick,” Sammy says with a serious head nod. “I can say Uncle Maverick now, but he likes it when I call him Uncle Kick. Don’t you, Uncle Kick?”
Sammy lifts his face to me, those huge blue eyes blinking innocently, and how can I be mad at him? “That’s right, kiddo.”
He runs back to Mrs. Burlington’s son, Tanner, and I smile awkwardly at the well-dressed woman. It’s clear she works in fashion, pairing a blush-pink silk top with navy trousers, topped off with a gunmetal pendant and suede loafers.
“Nice to meet you. Please, call me Candice.” She extends a sleek, well-manicured hand. “Wagner couldn’t make it?”
“No. He’s in a meeting. I hope Sammy was well-behaved,” I say, shaking her hand.
“Sammy’s an angel,” she starts, until she sees the face I pull. “A slightly devilish angel, but adorable all the same,” she amends around an airy laugh. “Would you like to stay for a drink?”
“I’d love to, but I can’t, unfortunately. I need to get back to the rescue center.”
“Ah, yes. I heard you bought Silverstone Sanctuary. How’s it going?”
“Good. It’s a steep learning curve, and there’s a lot to do.”And a fuckton of money needed to do it all.
“I’m sure there is. You know, my late husband used to be one of their top donors.”
“Really?”
She nods. Her blonde bob doesn’t move. “If I recall correctly, they discontinued their beneficiary program a few years back.”
“Huh. I didn’t know about that.”
“You’re a brave man taking that place on. It’s almost like it’s been cursed ever since Clancy Ford relinquished ownership.”
What did she just say?
“Clancy Ford?”
“Yeah. Do you know him? Great-looking guy for his age. Any age, really.” She grins, suggestively brushing her fingers along the side of her neck. “His family owned the sanctuary. His father passed it down to him when he passed. This is all decades ago, mind you. Clancy made the worst deal in history, selling the sanctuary and all that valuable land in exchange for a tiny patch, which he was forced to turn into a stone-fruit orchard to eke out a living.”
“I had no idea,” I say, trying to piece together this new information with everything I know about Clancy in my mind.
“Terrible, isn’t it? To be so attractive and yet have no money.”
My eyes snap to her. “Excuse me?”
Just as I was starting to warm to her and think that maybe her reputation was unwarranted, she drops a doozy like that.
But then she grins. “I’m kidding. Geez. Don’t believe everything you hear about me, Benson.”
