to make a move on Kensington.
I didn’t know the man, but for an insanely wealthy billionaire, he seemed like a good guy. His staff all enjoyed working at Kensington Group. I hoped he wasn’t really an asshole.
I heard more screeching from my sisters’ bedroom, and with a sigh, I rose and snagged my robe. I wrapped the dark-blue fabric around myself and headed out to the kitchen.
Hurrying through my breakfast and morning routine, I tuned out the twins’ arguments. After I’d showered, changed, and called out goodbyes to Briar and Juno, I caught a cab to the Kensington Group office. I could have walked and gotten the subway, but my feet still didn’t love me. Even after I’d soaked them last night. I wasn’t wearing those black heels again.
As I settled into the back seat, my cell phone rang—my personal one—and when I pulled it out, my mom’s name flashed up on the display.
“Hi, Mom. I only have a minute.”
“Hey, baby. You’re always so busy. You need to relax more.” Her tone was soft and sweet. That described Joanna Chandler perfectly.
“I’m working on a case for a friend.”
My mom lived upstate, in the small town of Beacon. She worked as an artist and sold just enough paintings to scrape by. She generally didn’t stress about anything, and believed the Universe would provide.
I wished I could not stress, but someone had to pay the bills.
I’d been fourteen when my father had gotten involved in a financial scandal. He’d been caught up in a Ponzi scheme that had cost our family, and others, everything. He’d been arrested and gone to jail, and my gentle, flighty mother had been helpless. The money was gone, the large family home gone, too, and the family reputation shattered. My mom had fallen apart.
The twins had been four. Someone had needed to pick up the pieces.
“How are my babies?” Mom asked.
“The twins are good. Busy. Noisy.”
My mom laughed. It was a sweet, airy sound that always made me think of fairies. Sometimes Mom frustrated me to hell because she didn’t always live in the real world, but I loved her.
“I’m hoping to see them soon. There’s an art show in the city that I want to take them to.”
“They’ll love to see you.”
“And I know there’s no point in asking you to come.”
I’d rather watch paint dry. “You know art isn’t my thing.”
My mother released a gusty sigh. “I don’t know how I ended up with such a practical child.”
Because I had to grow up and be the adult at fourteen.
I shoved the old emotions down. “It’ll be nice to see you.” And it meant I’d have to give my mom my bed and sleep on the pull-out couch. I stifled a sigh. I also felt a niggle. “Is there a reason you’re calling, Mom?”
My mother was quiet for a moment. “Ronnie left.”
Hell. Her latest man was gone. That meant she was low on money.
I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“It hadn’t been working between us for a while.” Another pause. “Could you just send me a few hundred dollars, Aspen? Until I sell my next few paintings.”
“Sure, Mom, I can send you some money.”
“You’re such a good girl, Aspen. Thank you. Today, okay?”
I blew out a breath. “Yes, I’ll send it today.”
“Thanks, Aspen. I love you.”
“Love you, too.” I tucked a strand of hair back and opened my banking app to make the transfer. As I put my phone away, I noticed the cab driver watching me in the rear-view mirror.
“Mommas are supposed to look after their kids, not kids looking after their mommas.”
Great. Advice from a cab driver.
“Thanks.” I paid and climbed out.
I hurried into the plush lobby of the Kensington Group building.
Inside was sleek and modern, with a touch of British charm. Light poured in through the walls of glass. The back wall was all shiny, gray tiles with a long reception desk. Large, colorful pieces of artwork hung on the walls, all showcasing the British countryside or portraits of who I assumed were kings and dukes of old.
But I had no time to study the paintings today. I thought of poor Jake, and my chest tightened. Erica was hanging on by a thread. I needed to see this through and help her get her husband back safely.
I took the elevator to the 52nd floor.
“There you are.” Abigail, another assistant I’d been working with, rushed forward, looking harried. “Lisa needs you to sort this.”
Abigail slapped a file at me, blowing her straight, black bangs