Carr slapped himself, each smack ringing out loud and clear.
Celestine didn’t even flinch.
She gathered her things and calmly left the mediation room.
The three of them may have had a legitimate reason to enter the neighborhood, but breaking into someone’s apartment was a different story–especially for Paula and Carr, whose actions were downright egregious.
There was no way they were getting out of this without doing time.
On the way back, Celestine slid into Gideon’s car. She thanked him, then suddenly added, “Oh, right. Let me transfer the money to you.”
Gideon had just paid several times the average rent, all to make a point on her behalf.
He arched an eyebrow, his gray eyes catching the light with a hint of mischief. Reaching one long arm behind her headrest, he drawled, “What’s the rush, Miss Selwyn? Are you planning to use me and toss me aside?”
Celestine’s face fell. “That’s not what I meant.”
She remembered–back then, the boy she knew never had such a sharp tongue.
Gideon chuckled, letting her off the hook. “My grandfather’s heading overseas with my brother and his wife soon. Cynthia Prescott will be staying here.”
Celestine’s eyes lit up at once.
Seeing her interest, Gideon continued, “She doesn’t eat much, comes home from school on her own, just needs someone to keep an eye on her and cook two meals a day. Miss Selwyn, could you take her in for a while? The fifty grand can be her room and board.”
“Absolutely!” Celestine’s smile was radiant.
She’d worried Gideon would take the money and never move in. But now, with Cynthia staying, her anxiety faded–this was the perfect solution, better than she could have hoped for.
Gideon clenched his jaw, a wry edge to his grin.
So the little one could stay, but not him. Typical.
1/3
20:30
Chapter 245
Hospital.
“How’d you end up like this? And in your own bar, no less?” Chester dropped onto the couch, staring in disbelief at Lance, who lay battered in the hospital bed.
Lance was a well–known designer, and besides his own firm, he also owned several side businesses.
The bar where the incident happened was one of his, and it did pretty good business.
Lance managed a crooked smile, keeping things vague. “Some idiots showed up. I just stepped in to help someone.”
Chester gave a low chuckle, teasing, “So our Lance is risking life and limb for a damsel in distress now?”
For years, Lance had quietly trailed after Joanna, always lingering in the background. Chester had noticed but never seen him confess his feelings. He’d assumed Lance would keep playing the silent guardian forever.
But apparently, someone else had managed to steal his heart.
Chester glanced at Joanna.
Joanna, worried and flustered, deftly changed the subject. “Lance, you shouldn’t be here alone. Let me hire someone to help take care of you.”
“No need,” Lance replied gently, the corners of his mouth lifting. “She’ll come by
when she can.”
Chester snorted. “Looks like you’ve really fallen hard this time.”
Lance didn’t confirm or deny, a flash of cynical amusement flickering in his eyes.
“Enough about me. Are you really divorcing Celestine?”
Chester’s face instantly darkened. “No.”
Lance sat up straighter, his tone sharpening. “Chester, let me remind you–she’s still got all those messy secrets about you and Joanna. Maybe you don’t care, but have you thought about how Joanna feels?”
Joanna’s eyes rimmed red as she looked away, silent.
“Relax,” Chester muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve already arranged for someone to wipe the info she has on her phone. She won’t have anything to hold
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over me.”
Lance snorted. “You’d better hope so.”
The room grew colder.
Joanna noticed a half–eaten apple on the nightstand, already browning at the bite mark. She reached for it, trying to break the tension. “Lance, this apple’s going bad.
Let me toss it for you.”
“Don’t touch it.”
