Alex remained quiet.
Cassandra finally looked at him.
“Do you know what it’s like being with you?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“You think everyone who cares about security is secretly after your money.”
“Wanting security is reasonable.”
“Then why am I being punished for it?”
“You asked my attorney whether a future spouse would receive control of Lily’s trust if I died.”
Silence.
Cassandra looked away.
Alex continued.
“You asked before you asked whether Lily would live with you.”
“That was a legal question.”
“It was an answer.”
Cassandra’s face hardened.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
“You come with complications.”
“A child.”
“A dead wife.”
“A company that owns you.”
“A grandmother who interrogates everyone.”
“Security everywhere.”
“Reporters.”
“Board politics.”
“Your money is one of the few advantages.”
Alex felt something inside him become cold.
Cassandra saw.
She sighed.
“I didn't mean—”
“Yes.”
“You did.”
He removed the engagement ring from the table where she had placed it.
“You should go.”
“Alex.”
“It’s over.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You’re going to keep doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Testing everybody until they fail.”
He watched her leave.
The sentence remained after the door closed.
Testing everybody until they fail.
He hated it because it sounded true.
His grandmother found him an hour later.
Eleanor Harper was seventy-eight and had never learned how to enter a room without immediately taking authority from whoever occupied it.
She carried a cane she did not need because, as she once told Alex, “People move out of the way faster.”
She sat opposite him.
“Third one.”
Alex looked through the window.
“Please don't count.”
“I’m old. Counting gives me hobbies.”
He almost smiled.
Eleanor took Cassandra’s untouched wine glass and pushed it aside.
“Did she love you?”
“She loved what came with me.”
“Different.”
“I’m beginning to think the difference is theoretical.”
His grandmother looked at him for a long moment.
“You know what your problem is?”
“I was hoping you came to comfort me.”
“I am.”
“This is how I comfort.”
“Then I suddenly understand my childhood.”
She ignored that.
“You meet women after they know your surname.”
“Difficult to prevent.”
“No.”
“Difficult to inconvenience yourself enough to prevent.”
Alex frowned.
Eleanor leaned closer.
“You walk into rooms as Alex Harper, billionaire chairman of Harper Global, widowed father, Seattle’s favorite business-magazine tragedy.”
“People react to the billboard before they meet the man.”
“What do you want me to do? Change my name?”
“For five minutes?”
“Maybe.”
Alex shook his head.
“I’m not pretending to be poor.”
“I didn't say poor.”
“I said ordinary.”
“There is a difference.”
He looked toward the city.
Eleanor continued.
“Your grandfather had twenty-two dollars when I met him.”
“And then built a shipping company.”
“Yes.”
“Terribly inconvenient.”
She smiled.
“He spent the first month pretending he owned a Buick.”
“He borrowed it from his brother.”
“I found out when his brother needed it for church.”
Alex laughed.
Eleanor’s eyes softened.
“You don’t need another woman impressed by what you own.”
“You need someone who notices what you carry.”
That night, in the rain, Maya noticed Lily.
Alex thought about that all the way through the board meeting.
Maya Evans, meanwhile, forgot about him as hard as possible.
She had three deliveries remaining.