A Bad Boy is Good to Find - By Jennifer Lewis Page 0,83
around here had sadly assumed to be yours.”
“Yeah? Well, guess what, I’m alive and kicking and I bet my brother is too.”
“I see you’ve inherited the Beale temper.” Stapleton leaned back in his chair and chuckled. “I bet you like a drink too, don’t you, son? Bourbon?” He reached into his desk and drew out a small bottle.
Con blew out a disgusted snort and placed a clenched fist on Eric Stapleton, esq.’s cluttered desk. “I didn’t plan to come back here—ever—but Lizzie brought me down here and now I’m up to my neck in the mess I left behind and I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”
Lizzie stared at him.
“I have reason to believe you know where my brother is, and if you’ll give me that information you won’t see me again.”
“I have absolutely no idea where your brother is. Drunk in a ditch somewhere, I expect, so don’t you come in here with that tone of voice. I remember you when you were just a snot-nosed punk brought into court for stealing a frozen turkey.” He broke into a grating laugh. Con seemed to shrink back a little. “You probably don’t even remember that, but I do. Another one of those Beale’s. Like father like son.”
“Don’t you talk to him like that!” Lizzie was on her feet before she knew what was happening. “We happen to know that he and his brother are the heirs of Dumas House and that you are deliberately concealing that knowledge from everyone in the hope of taking possession of the property yourself!” Her shrill voice startled her.
Stapleton’s lips parted for second, then he drew them back together in a crooked line. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, and I want you out of this office, now!”
He pressed his finger on the intercom. “Vera! Escort our visitors out immediately.”
“You haven’t heard the end of this, Mr. Stapleton,” Lizzie said calmly. “Conroy Beale is back and he plans to demand his rights.”
As Vera escorted them down the cramped hallway, Lizzie couldn’t resist asking, “So is Mr. Milford’s will kept in this office?”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Stapleton is the executor of his estate, but of course there’s a copy filed with the—”
“Loose lips sink ships, Vera!” boomed the lawyer’s voice from behind them. “Get them out of here and come into my office immediately.”
“Y…yes sir,” she stammered, giving Lizzie a wary glance.
Out on the tiny lawn Con ran his hands through his hair. “Why’d you have to go off on a tangent like that? We should have played it cool. Now he knows we know and he’s basically the enemy. We’ll never get anything out of him.”
“That house is your right, Con.”
“Bullshit. It’s my nothing. That mean old bastard left my mother to die. Didn’t even open her letters. I don’t want nothing of his. You expect me to think about a house when we don’t even know if my brother is—” He shuddered and broke off.
“So you feel you don’t deserve it because you abandoned your brother? Help me out here. You didn’t have any problem with planning to live the good life on the proceeds of my Grandfather’s corporate greed, and now you’re too moral to inherit your own wealth?”
Con’s head kicked back. His eyes shone, fierce. “Look, I already said I was wrong to have tried to marry you the way I did. That’s why I agreed to go along with your crazy TV wedding scheme and how I ended up back down here in the first place. Now I’m here, the only, and I mean it, the only thing I want is to find my brother. Stapleton can go live in that house himself and party all day and night for all I care.”
Lizzie growled with frustration. “This is why poor people don’t get ahead. You’re afraid to stir up trouble so you let people walk all over you. I liked you better when you were a big faker trying to marry money and claim your place on top of the pie!”
“Can we get the hell out of here before he has us arrested for something?” Con turned to where Dino had parked the Jeep and they both noticed Dino at the same time, backed up against the outside of the building, camera rolling.
“Uh, hi Dino.” Lizzie racked her brain to figure out what they’d revealed. That Con had tried to marry her for her money. Her face turned beet red. “Can you, uh, turn it off?”