For Angelo (Full-Length Standalone Italian Billionaire Romance) (2 page)

BOOK: For Angelo (Full-Length Standalone Italian Billionaire Romance)
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She squinted.
 

They were!

Was that actually her client, Lane Petersen?

“Ms. Petersen, is that you hiding behind the curtains?”

The figure moved, followed by a small voice answering, “Y-yes.”

Oh, she knew it,
Nellie mentally grouched. Pro bono cases were always a pain in the ass to deal with. They always involved the crazies. Should she get security –
 

Then Nellie remembered her dad’s warning. If she didn’t see this to the end, he’d take away her credit cards. The thought had her shuddering in horror. The truth was, even though she had passed the bar and was indeed a full-fledged lawyer, she had never needed to work and didn’t really care to.

And you won’t have to, ever,
she reminded herself. She just needed to have this pro bono case all wrapped up, and that was it. She would be back in her father’s good graces, and she’d be able to live happily ever after.

Turning to face the figure behind the curtains, she said in a sweetly cajoling voice, “Why don’t you come out of the curtains and let me see you, Ms. Petersen?”

There was another movement, which Nellie deciphered as her client shaking her head.

“Oh, but why not?”

“Because you’re rich.”

Nellie pretended to be surprised. “Who, me?” But in truth, she was pleased. It was always nice to be called ‘rich.’ Turning away, she headed to her little-used office table, placed her Chanel handbag on top, and picked up the case folder. She quickly scanned the overview prepared by the paralegal.

Oh.
There it was. Her client was suffering from an unusual form of
plutophobia,
possibly a symptom of PTSD. In other words, 18-year-old Lane Petersen was afraid of rich people.

She scanned the rest of the first-page summary. Okay, another sob story, ho-hum, and then—

Her eyes widened.
Lane was positioned to inherit that much?
Her mind raced through the necessary computations. If she got Lane to accept the inheritance, the terms of her work required her to waive her professional fee and receive a commission percentage instead. And it was ten times more than her fee!

She glanced back at her client, hoping that the dollar signs weren’t shining in her eyes. Clearing her throat, Nellie said gently, “Would it make you feel safer if we talk while you stay there?”

Pause.

“Y-you don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” Nellie answered readily. Considering how much she was slated to earn, she would not mind
anything.
“I’m your lawyer, and that means I’ll always be on your side.”
 

Another pause, a longer one this time.

“How do I know if I can trust you?”

Good question
, Nellie thought. She said slowly, “That’s the thing about trust. There’s no way to know until you take a risk.” She thought for a moment then moved forward, case folder still in her hands. When she was standing in front of the curtains, she bent to take off her Louboutin pumps.

“What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, she set her pumps aside and lowered herself to the carpeted floor, folding her legs under her. “Just making myself comfortable,” Nellie said. “Feel free to join me anytime.” But in truth, all she wanted was to make Lane stop seeing her as a rich person to fear, and she knew, considering her client’s age and history, Lane was likely to subscribe to all the stereotypes of wealthy individuals.

Nellie began to talk, not requiring her client to answer, and she discussed everything except the case. It took about forty-five minutes for her client to finally come out from behind the curtains, and when she did, Nellie tried not to show her surprise.

The girl was unbelievably pretty, her hair and eyes a rich shade of caramel brown. Her curves were also generously evident despite her young age, and it made Nellie feel a bit envious. Oh, what she would do to have something bigger than A-cups.

As she continued talking, she watched her young client sit in front of her, pulling her knees up and tucking them under her chin. When she paused, she expected Lane Petersen to stay silent, but the young girl surprised her by saying in a small voice, “We can talk about it now.”
 

Nellie hid her surprise at Lane’s unexpectedly straightforward attitude.
This girl had guts
, she thought, reluctantly impressed. But still, she asked, “Are you sure?”
 

A small nod.

Eyes that hid nothing met hers. “You’re not like the other rich people I know.”

Nellie fought to keep her smile even as her guilty conscience started to sting.
Shut up, conscience. You’re going to cost me money.
Looking back at Lane, she said quietly, “I’m glad you think that.” Her conscience stung even more painfully. “But first, I’d like to formally introduce myself.” She offered the girl her hand. “My name’s Nellie Mortimer, and I’ve been assigned to be your lawyer.”

The girl shook her hand gravely. “I’m Lane. Thank you for accepting my case even if you won’t get paid for it. The social worker explained it all to me. She says there are lawyers like you who believe in doing the right thing.”

Nellie managed to hold on to her smile. “That’s right.”
I hate you, Anonymous Social Worker.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “Has someone discussed with you why you need a lawyer?”

Lane nodded. “It’s about the inheritance, right?”

“Yes.” Nellie picked up the case file and flipped it to the page where all the figures were. “After you factor in taxes and other fees, you will still be left with an inheritance of over three million dollars.” She waited expectantly.

But the girl in front of her didn’t jump for joy or go into hysterics.
 

Thinking that Lane was left speechless by her good fortune, Nellie said with a smile, “You heard me right, you know. You’re a multimillionaire at your age, and after the necessary paperwork, I can make sure the funds are transferred to your account in a couple of days—”

Lane mumbled something.

I must have heard her wrong
, Nellie thought. “Sorry, what was that again?” She watched Lane take a deep breath.
 

“I don’t want it.”

Her smile froze on her lips. “Excuse me?”
 

The girl’s voice became just a bit stronger. “I don’t want it.”

Nellie’s jaw dropped.
“Are you insane?”
She winced as soon as the words came out, knowing she had been utterly unprofessional. “I’m sorry for that.” But in her mind, Nellie could already see her two-percent cut slipping away from her hold.
There goes my plan for a European cruise and a fling with a hot Greek stranger,
Nellie thought morosely. She should have known there was a catch. Her father would never have given her a cut-and-dried case.

She looked back at Lane. “I just want to be clear here. You’re saying
no
to THREE MILLION DOLLARS.”

Her client nodded.

“But you’ve already turned eighteen,” Nellie pointed out. “You can no longer be a dependent of the state. You’re unemployed, homeless, and you have yet to finish high school. Your work experience is next to nothing. How do you plan to live if you say no to your inheritance?

There was a long pause before Lane answered jerkily, “I’ll get by.”
 

Nellie’s head started to pound.
Three million dollars
, she thought incredulously. And this girl was saying she didn’t want it? Her gaze slid back to the case folder. She read through it a little more comprehensively and when she looked up, she knew just enough to try a new tactic.

“May I be frank with you, Lane?” Nellie tried to keep the guilt from her voice as she spoke, aware of her less-than-selfless motivation for wanting to convince Lane Petersen to accept her inheritance.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She winced. “Please call me Nellie. That M-word makes me feel so old.”
And how was it that there were still teenagers as shy and respectful as Lane,
Nellie wondered absently. Sure, the girl suffered from some kind of trauma, but Nellie had met a lot of young girls suffering from trauma through the law firm’s charity work, and the way most of them had cussed would make even Eminem sound like a choirboy.

Her teasing had made the tiniest smile appear on Lane’s lips. “O-okay.”

Nellie was privately surprised at how good it had felt to make the young girl smile, and the realization made her wince.
Careful now
, she warned herself.
More of that and you’ll end up being a hatefully boring do-gooder.
 

Returning her attention to Lane, she clasped her hands on her lap and picked her next words with care. “As your lawyer, it’s my job to ensure you do what’s
legally right
but also what’s
best
for you.” She paused. “I’m not in any position to stop you from refusing your inheritance, of course, but I just want to make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons.”

In front of Nellie, the girl’s increased tension was palpable, and her movements were jerky as she unfolded her legs then tucked them under her, fingers tapping restlessly on her knees.
 

Without looking at Nellie, Lane asked haltingly, “You know about my mother?”

“Are you referring to the rift between your mother and paternal grandfather?”

Lane nodded jerkily.

Nellie tried to be properly vague, saying, “According to the case file, your grandfather disapproved of her relationship with his only son, and this has led to your parents’ breakup and your mother raising you on her own. I understand that your mother’s subsequent nature of employment—”

The way Lane vehemently shook her head stopped Nellie from speaking.

“I’m sorry, N-Nellie…but I d-don’t think you understand
anything.
” But the girl’s voice was more pained than harsh, and it was the first time Nellie glimpsed any kind of strong emotion in her client.

Lips trembling, Lane said fiercely, “You might have heard all s-sorts of things about my mom, but I want you to know they’re all w-wrong about her. My mom’s a nice person, a
kind
person, and she’s the most wonderful, bravest person on earth. She
never
had anything bad to say about anyone, not even when he…”

Lane sucked her breath in, and her eyes suddenly squeezed shut as if she was trying to ward off a painful memory.

And Nellie had a sudden urge to run away and forget she ever knew someone named Lane Petersen.

Oh, no.

So this was why her dad wanted her to handle this girl’s case.

She cleared her throat. “Umm, Ms. Petersen—” She didn’t do Hallmark scenes, ever. That was so cliché, not to mention unprofitable. “I don’t think—”
 

But it was too late.

“I was seven when I first met my grandfather, and that first time h-he told me that my mom was a s-slut.”
 

Nellie wanted to cover her ears.
I’m just going to pretend I’m not hearing anything,
she thought desperately.

“He wanted me t-to disown her and come live with him in his mansion.”
 

Lane’s voice was emptier than any teenager had a right to sound, and Nellie furiously blinked back tears. She had never cried over sappy movies, and she was not going to cry
now.
 

La-la-la,
Nellie mentally sang, frantic to distract herself.

“When I d-didn’t agree, my grandfather got in touch with my school and told them about my mom’s job.” Lane was pale-faced, her gaze far away, and it was clear she was lost in a haze of despair and stolen innocence.

“We moved from town to town, but he would always find us, and he used his connections to ruin any chance of my mom finding a good job—”
 

The girl’s voice broke.

And Nellie’s heart of ice started to break with it.

Lane’s head swung to face her, and the young girl’s eyes sought Nellie’s in unconscious need.
 

“I just want you to understand,” Lane choked out, “that
I don’t hate him.
I r-really don’t b-because my mom taught me better than that.” She swallowed audibly, and the way the girl visibly fought not to cry ironically made Nellie want to bawl her own eyes out.

BOOK: For Angelo (Full-Length Standalone Italian Billionaire Romance)
7.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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