Oakes’ past…er… unfortunate brush with the law, I can assure you Jack was convinced nothing of that nature would ever again occur.”
“Well, I’m not. I don’t even know what he did. He could have robbed or pillaged or raped or…”
“I stole a car.” Heath cut off her ranting.
The hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth further infuriated her. Plopping herself back down into her chair, she crossed her arms on her chest with such violence she felt the shoulder seams at the back of her shrunken jacket rip.
“If you’d care to proceed, Mr. Chamberlain, I believe Ms. Armstrong is prepared to listen.” Heath’s smile turned condescending. “Although she seems to have ignored the fact—or perhaps is not yet aware of it—there remains an outstanding two percent of ownership, which is all important when you consider they hold the balance of power.”
Of course! That two percent belongs to Mom. The Armstrongs are back in the driver’s seat! She shot him what she hoped was her most triumphant look.
“This is where the will becomes…ah…shall we say, a bit original.” Matthew Chamberlain looked from one to the other over his glasses.
“Original? What do you mean, original?” Allison was leaning toward him, hands gripping the edge of the table. “Those controlling shares have to belong to my mother.”
“Actually, no.” The attorney returned his attention to his papers. “They were left in a trust, to be administered jointly by its members.”
“A trust? Members? What members? Who?”
“That I can’t tell you, Ms. Armstrong. Mr. Adams made the concealment of their identities a top priority. Oh, and there is another stipulation. No one of the property holders can sell their shares unless all parties are in agreement. Now, if you’ll both just sign here where it states that you’ve heard and understand…”
He slid the sheaf of papers toward Allison, indicated where she was to sign, and offered her his pen.
“I’m not signing anything until I have my corporate lawyer examine the document.” Allison stood and put her hands on her hips.
“Ms. Anderson, I assure you it’s all perfectly legal and unshakeable.” Matthew Chamberlain, QC, got up to face her. “Jack Adams spent time and effort making this will. It’s one of the most ironclad I’ve ever encountered.”
“Nevertheless, I insist on further legal advice.”
“Very well.” The lawyer gave an exasperated sigh and began to gather up his papers. “You can pick up a copy from my office when you come into town. I’ll have my secretary prepare one for you.”
“Thank you.” She glanced defiantly over at Heath. The calm coolness on his handsome, sun-bronzed face made her hate him even more.
Five minutes later, Allison watched as Matthew Chamberlain got into his rented Tracker and drove away.
“Seems we finally have something in common.” Heath turned from watching the lawyer out of sight and looked up at her.
She stood on the top step of the Lodge’s back porch, leaning against the door, her hands clasped behind her, her head thrown back so that she gazed skyward.
“There has to be a mistake. Gramps would never do anything this crazy.”
“It’s what he wanted, and we owe it to him to try to make it work.”
“Maybe you owe him. I certainly don’t!”
She whirled and would have strode into the Lodge had he not bounded catlike up the steps and seized her arm. He spun her to face him, eyes narrowed.
“Oh, yes, you do, Miss High-and-Mighty! You owe him for years of neglect and loneliness. Jack understood the reason for your mother’s absences—her fundraising for needy sick kids—and he was proud of her. But you! You had lots of time for vacations at all the holiday hot spots. He showed me the postcards. But not a single day to visit your grandfather. There’s no excuse good enough for what you did.”
“Let me go! Don’t you dare try to heap guilt on me. Not when you’re responsible. Not
“Well, I’m not. I don’t even know what he did. He could have robbed or pillaged or raped or…”
“I stole a car.” Heath cut off her ranting.
The hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth further infuriated her. Plopping herself back down into her chair, she crossed her arms on her chest with such violence she felt the shoulder seams at the back of her shrunken jacket rip.
“If you’d care to proceed, Mr. Chamberlain, I believe Ms. Armstrong is prepared to listen.” Heath’s smile turned condescending. “Although she seems to have ignored the fact—or perhaps is not yet aware of it—there remains an outstanding two percent of ownership, which is all important when you consider they hold the balance of power.”
Of course! That two percent belongs to Mom. The Armstrongs are back in the driver’s seat! She shot him what she hoped was her most triumphant look.
“This is where the will becomes…ah…shall we say, a bit original.” Matthew Chamberlain looked from one to the other over his glasses.
“Original? What do you mean, original?” Allison was leaning toward him, hands gripping the edge of the table. “Those controlling shares have to belong to my mother.”
“Actually, no.” The attorney returned his attention to his papers. “They were left in a trust, to be administered jointly by its members.”
“A trust? Members? What members? Who?”
“That I can’t tell you, Ms. Armstrong. Mr. Adams made the concealment of their identities a top priority. Oh, and there is another stipulation. No one of the property holders can sell their shares unless all parties are in agreement. Now, if you’ll both just sign here where it states that you’ve heard and understand…”
He slid the sheaf of papers toward Allison, indicated where she was to sign, and offered her his pen.
“I’m not signing anything until I have my corporate lawyer examine the document.” Allison stood and put her hands on her hips.
“Ms. Anderson, I assure you it’s all perfectly legal and unshakeable.” Matthew Chamberlain, QC, got up to face her. “Jack Adams spent time and effort making this will. It’s one of the most ironclad I’ve ever encountered.”
“Nevertheless, I insist on further legal advice.”
“Very well.” The lawyer gave an exasperated sigh and began to gather up his papers. “You can pick up a copy from my office when you come into town. I’ll have my secretary prepare one for you.”
“Thank you.” She glanced defiantly over at Heath. The calm coolness on his handsome, sun-bronzed face made her hate him even more.
Five minutes later, Allison watched as Matthew Chamberlain got into his rented Tracker and drove away.
“Seems we finally have something in common.” Heath turned from watching the lawyer out of sight and looked up at her.
She stood on the top step of the Lodge’s back porch, leaning against the door, her hands clasped behind her, her head thrown back so that she gazed skyward.
“There has to be a mistake. Gramps would never do anything this crazy.”
“It’s what he wanted, and we owe it to him to try to make it work.”
“Maybe you owe him. I certainly don’t!”
She whirled and would have strode into the Lodge had he not bounded catlike up the steps and seized her arm. He spun her to face him, eyes narrowed.
“Oh, yes, you do, Miss High-and-Mighty! You owe him for years of neglect and loneliness. Jack understood the reason for your mother’s absences—her fundraising for needy sick kids—and he was proud of her. But you! You had lots of time for vacations at all the holiday hot spots. He showed me the postcards. But not a single day to visit your grandfather. There’s no excuse good enough for what you did.”
“Let me go! Don’t you dare try to heap guilt on me. Not when you’re responsible. Not
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