Mary closed the door behind her as I stared at another set ofspreadsheets. The lines kept blurring together. I pinched the bridge of my noseand leaned back in my chair. I was exhausted. Mary was right, I’d barely sleptat all last night. All I could think about was Penny’s face when she’d left. Whydid she always seem so sad recently? How could I make it better?
There was a knock on the door.
“Really, Mary, I’m fine,” I said.
The door opened. But it wasn’t Mary standing there.
I immediately stood up. “Poppy.” I hadn’t seen her in years. Butshe hadn’t changed at all. Probably because her face was more Botox than skin. Itwas like seeing another ghost. But not a sweet innocent one like Brooklyn. Poppywas almost the spitting image of her cousin, Isabella. The brunette hair. Theway she stared at people with disdain. The way she made my skin crawl. I waslucky enough to not know Poppy very well. Unlike her un-dearly departed cousin.There wasn’t a day that went by that I wasn’t grateful that Isabella was dead. Asentertaining as that story was, it wasn’t mine to tell. That honor belonged toJames and Penny.
But standing here now, it felt like Isabella was staring backat me. And if she wasn’t already dead, I would have killed her.
Poppy’s lips curled up on the edges, but I wouldn’t call it asmile. People like Poppy didn’t smile. “Matthew Caldwell. How many years has itbeen?” She shook her head. “Far too many,” she said without waiting for aresponse. She walked into my office uninvited and started looking around.
“Poppy, what are you doing here?”
She ran her finger along the edge of my desk like she waslooking for dust. “You didn’t respond to Uncle Richard’s texts.”
Richard Pruitt had been sending me texts for years. And Inever answered. That was our thing. Every time it happened, it felt like apunch in the gut. But I did my best to forget about it and move on. Those textswere no reason for Poppy to show up after-hours at my office without anappointment.
She cocked her head to the side and her eyes ran from thebaseball cap on my head to my sneakers.
A chill ran down my spine, like her gaze was ice cold.
“Interesting attire. Very rugged.” She bit her lower lip andI tried not to make a gagging noise.
“I came from football practice.”
“Ah yes. Uncle Richard mentioned that you were coaching atEmpire High. How…quaint.” She smiled again, but the skin around her lips didn’tmove at all.
I wasn’t sure which was worse. Her fake smile. Or the factthat Mr. Pruitt was keeping tabs on me. “Poppy, it’s late. If you want toschedule a meeting…”
“I’m not here for a meeting.” She laughed. “Why would myfamily come to yours for financial advice?” She put her hand to her silicone chest.“We have more money than you.”
Dirty money. Everyone in the city knew that Mr. Pruittwas into some shady shit. The guilt felt like bile stirring in my stomach. I’dleft Brooklyn with him. It was my fault that she was dead.
Poppy took a step closer. “We both know you wanted to marryinto the family.”
I didn’t want to marry into her horrid family. I lovedBrooklyn despite the fact that Mr. Pruitt was her birth father. Notbecause of it.
But for several years, I’d wondered about the contracts Isigned when I was dating Brooklyn. Mr. Pruitt had called them relationshipcontracts. I’d never read the fine print. But I knew he loved to sneak sketchy,unrelated stuff into all his contracts. That had haunted me. And as Poppy tookyet another step closer, I felt like I was going to be sick. What if there wassome clause about…death? What if I had signed something about beingpromised to a member of their horrible family?
Poppy stopped right in front of me. “I’ve always loved a manwho craves power. You know…” she reached out and straightened my baseball cap. “…I’mthe last living heir to great granddaddy’s fortune. Think of all we could dotogether. I have the power. And you know how to handle the money.”
She meant hide the money in offshore accounts. I clenched myhands into fists. I wasn’t going to hit her. But I was about to hit somethingif she touched me again.
She licked her bottom lip, probably mistaking my disgust for admiration.Because she was every bit as delusional as Isabella. “I actually kind of likethe grunge look. I can work with that. But a suit and tie never hurt anyone. Nexttime we meet, maybe dress up a tad?”
I was definitely going to be sick. “Get out of my office,Poppy.”
She pouted. “Uncle Richard won’t be happy to hear that youdidn’t receive me graciously.”
“I don’t give a shit about what your uncle thinks.”
“Hmm. Is that so?” She lifted a picture frame off my desk.
It was a framed one of me with all my friends. Their wives. Theirchildren.
“Uncle Richard has allowed certain allowances in the pastyears. He still thinks of you as family, you know.”
I shook my head. That man was no family of mine.
“You’re going to want to talk to him. Or he might start beingless…forgiving.”
“What the hell does that mean?” My heart started racing. BecauseI knew what it meant.
“We both know what Uncle Richard is capable of.”
Terrible things. He’d fucking killed my wife-to-be. He washeartless. He was a monster. And there had been things that happened that Ithought for sure would have resulted in retaliation. Like when Isabella met heruntimely end. For some reason, there hadn’t been any repercussions.
“Aw, isn’t she cute,” Poppy said and pointed to Scarlett inthe photo. “I heard she really likes to open doors for strangers.”
“Poppy, I swear to God…”
“It’s not polite to swear,
