Read Online The Pride of Jared MacKade by Nora Roberts - Free Book Online
Authors: Nora Roberts
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white orchids in a white vase that was so soulless and ordinary it offended her artist’s eye, and two doors facing each other.
She strode to the one on the left, rapped once and opened it.
Of course he’d look terrific in charcoal gray, she thought. A lot better than the office did, with its dull grays and punishing whites. Someone should tell him work was more pleasant in an environment with a little color and life.
But it wouldn’t be her.
He rose, elegant in his three-piece suit and carefully knotted tie. A tie he’d just jerked back into place. She thought, with an inner sense of rebellion, that he looked like more of a lawyer than ever.
“Ms. Morningstar.” He inclined his head. He thought that her stepping into the room was like having some brilliant bolt of lightning strike a placid pond. “Have a seat.”
“It won’t take long.” She remained standing, stubbornly. “I appreciate you taking the time to see me.”
“I had the time.” To illustrate the point, he moved a file from the center of his desk to the side, and sat. “What can I do for you?”
In answer, she pulled papers out of her purse, tossed them on his desk. “I signed them, in triplicate, and had them notarized.” Her driver’s license landed with a plop on top of the papers. “That’s my ID.” She threw in her social security card for good measure. “I don’t have a birth certificate.”
“Mm-hmm…” Taking his time, Jared pulled brownhorn-rims out of his jacket pocket and slipped them on to study the papers.
Savannah stared at him, swallowed hard. It didn’t seem to matter that she told herself it was ridiculous. Her heart had skipped a beat. He looked gorgeous, intellectually sexy, in those damn glasses. And made her feel like a fumbling fool.
“It’s all in order,” she began.
“Afraid not.” Thoughtfully, he picked up her driver’s license, perused it. “This is invalid.”
“The hell it is. I just had it renewed a couple of months ago.”
“That may be,” he continued, studying her now. “But as the picture actually looks like you, and is, in fact, flattering, this driver’s license is obviously a fraud, and therefore, invalid.”
She closed her mouth, jammed her hands in her pockets. “Are you making a joke? Is that allowed in hallowed halls?”
“Sit down, Savannah. Please.”
With a bad-tempered shrug, she sat. “Did you ever hear of color?” she demanded. “This place is dull as a textbook, and your art is pathetically ordinary.”
“It is, isn’t it?” he agreed easily. “My ex-wife decorated the place. She was a tax accountant, had the office across the hall.” He leaned back and scanned the room. “I’ve gotten used to not seeing the place, but you’re right. It could use something.”
“It could use an obituary.” Annoyed with herself, she pushed a hand through her hair. “I hate being here.”
“I can see that.” He picked up the papers again,skimmed through them. “You understand that you’re agreeing to accept a payment, by cashier’s check, that equals the total cash balance of your father’s estate?”
“Yes.”
“And his effects?”
“I thought…I thought that meant the money. What else is there?”
“Apparently there are a few personal effects. I can get you an itemized list if you like, so that you can decide if you want them sent or discarded. The shipping would be deducted from the estate.”
Discarded, she thought. As she had been. “No, just have them sent.”
“All right.” Methodically he made notes on a yellow legal pad. “I’ll have my secretary draft a letter tomorrow confirming the status and apprising you that you’ll receive full disbursement of the estate within forty-five days.”
“Why do you need a letter when you’ve just told me?”
He glanced up from the papers, the eyes behind the lenses amused. “The law likes to cover its butt with as much paperwork as humanly possible.”
He signed the papers himself as proxy
She strode to the one on the left, rapped once and opened it.
Of course he’d look terrific in charcoal gray, she thought. A lot better than the office did, with its dull grays and punishing whites. Someone should tell him work was more pleasant in an environment with a little color and life.
But it wouldn’t be her.
He rose, elegant in his three-piece suit and carefully knotted tie. A tie he’d just jerked back into place. She thought, with an inner sense of rebellion, that he looked like more of a lawyer than ever.
“Ms. Morningstar.” He inclined his head. He thought that her stepping into the room was like having some brilliant bolt of lightning strike a placid pond. “Have a seat.”
“It won’t take long.” She remained standing, stubbornly. “I appreciate you taking the time to see me.”
“I had the time.” To illustrate the point, he moved a file from the center of his desk to the side, and sat. “What can I do for you?”
In answer, she pulled papers out of her purse, tossed them on his desk. “I signed them, in triplicate, and had them notarized.” Her driver’s license landed with a plop on top of the papers. “That’s my ID.” She threw in her social security card for good measure. “I don’t have a birth certificate.”
“Mm-hmm…” Taking his time, Jared pulled brownhorn-rims out of his jacket pocket and slipped them on to study the papers.
Savannah stared at him, swallowed hard. It didn’t seem to matter that she told herself it was ridiculous. Her heart had skipped a beat. He looked gorgeous, intellectually sexy, in those damn glasses. And made her feel like a fumbling fool.
“It’s all in order,” she began.
“Afraid not.” Thoughtfully, he picked up her driver’s license, perused it. “This is invalid.”
“The hell it is. I just had it renewed a couple of months ago.”
“That may be,” he continued, studying her now. “But as the picture actually looks like you, and is, in fact, flattering, this driver’s license is obviously a fraud, and therefore, invalid.”
She closed her mouth, jammed her hands in her pockets. “Are you making a joke? Is that allowed in hallowed halls?”
“Sit down, Savannah. Please.”
With a bad-tempered shrug, she sat. “Did you ever hear of color?” she demanded. “This place is dull as a textbook, and your art is pathetically ordinary.”
“It is, isn’t it?” he agreed easily. “My ex-wife decorated the place. She was a tax accountant, had the office across the hall.” He leaned back and scanned the room. “I’ve gotten used to not seeing the place, but you’re right. It could use something.”
“It could use an obituary.” Annoyed with herself, she pushed a hand through her hair. “I hate being here.”
“I can see that.” He picked up the papers again,skimmed through them. “You understand that you’re agreeing to accept a payment, by cashier’s check, that equals the total cash balance of your father’s estate?”
“Yes.”
“And his effects?”
“I thought…I thought that meant the money. What else is there?”
“Apparently there are a few personal effects. I can get you an itemized list if you like, so that you can decide if you want them sent or discarded. The shipping would be deducted from the estate.”
Discarded, she thought. As she had been. “No, just have them sent.”
“All right.” Methodically he made notes on a yellow legal pad. “I’ll have my secretary draft a letter tomorrow confirming the status and apprising you that you’ll receive full disbursement of the estate within forty-five days.”
“Why do you need a letter when you’ve just told me?”
He glanced up from the papers, the eyes behind the lenses amused. “The law likes to cover its butt with as much paperwork as humanly possible.”
He signed the papers himself as proxy
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