Page 270 of Things We Left Behind
His smile was wicked. “Get your shit together, Sloane. Do you want to look like Alice Cooper in our wedding photos that are going to be splashed all over publications across the country? I thought you were tougher than that.”
“Good. That’s good. Keep it coming.”
“If I so much as see one single tear on that beautiful fucking face of yours before you walk down that aisle to me, I’ll tell Tiffany we want her to plan every anniversary party for the rest of our lives.”
I gasped. “Mean!”
“Don’t be a fucking baby.”
“Me?You better keep it together since you’re the one who’s been dreaming about this since the first time you climbed that damn cherry tree,” I shot back.
“You’ll be happy to know that ‘that damn cherry tree’ is weight-bearing again. The tree surgeons did an excellent job.”
“Good. Keep distracting me,” I said.
“I have something for you.”
“Damn it, Lucifer!”
“Suck it up and deal with it,” he said, handing over a thick, rich-guy envelope.
“Where do you even buy stationery like this? Wealthy Person Mart?” I demanded, waving the linen envelope under his nose.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We shop at Riches R Us.”
Rolling my eyes, I opened the snooty envelope and pulledout the papers. “This is a lot of legalese. Did you justgiftme a prenup? I told you I’d sign one.”
With a roll of his eyes, Lucian flipped through the pages and tapped one. “It’s not a prenup, Pix. It’s an endowment and paperwork to make the Simon Walton Foundation official.”
“Well, shit, big guy.” My eyes went right to the number. “Is that a phone number? Or is that an incredibly well-endowed endowment?”
“You did good work. This will allow it to continue. Maybe with a few full-time employees.”
I looked up at him, stunned. “Like Mary Louise?”
“Who better to handle the day-to-day? And I thought Allen might be interested in officially joining the fight now that he’s passed the bar. I also thought, though the decision is yours, my mother might be a good addition.”
Shortly after their fight, Kayla had started seeing a therapist. She and Lucian had quickly reconciled, and Kayla had finally started to take her independence seriously. In the process, she and my mother had managed to become friends.
I stared down at the page as words and numbers swam before my eyes.
“You’re going to cry again, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not, assface. God, why do you have to give such thoughtful gifts? You’re such a jerk,” I sniffled.
“Suck it up, or I’ll be forced to unleash Tiffany.”
Blinking back tears, I crossed the room to my nightstand and found the wrapped package I’d tucked into the drawer.
“This is for you,” I said, thrusting it at him.
While he carefully undid the wrapping, I resumed the fanning of my eyes.
“What is it?” he asked, flipping over the frame.
He went statue still, looking like he’d been carved from marble by a besotted sculptor.
It was a picture from this summer of me, Maeve, Mom, and Chloe on the front porch. Lucian was grinning in the middle,his arms around us protectively. Beneath the photo was a slip of paper. The last text my dad had sent him.
