Such Great Heights - Sydney Logan Page 0,70
cry when they’re happy.”
“Are you happy right now?”
“I am.”
“Because of our sandcastle?”
I grin and hug him tight.
“Yes. But not just because of our sandcastle.”
“Then why?” he asks, turning around in my lap so that he can see my tear-stained face. “Is something on your heart?”
With a smile, I gaze into my son’s eyes. My heart just isn’t big enough to hold this much happiness.
“You’re on my heart, Ryder. You and your daddy. All the time.”
“And that makes you happy?”
“That makes me very happy.”
Ryder slides his little arms around my neck and hugs me tight.
“Best mom ever,” he whispers.
When we arrive at the penthouse, I’m disappointed to find that Jackson’s not home. Hazel greets us in the foyer and immediately helps Ryder out of his jacket.
“He’s stuck in court,” she says, reading my mind.
As we follow her into the living room, I want to ask which court? Is he stuck in regular court with a client? Or stuck in divorce court with Natasha’s lawyer? We hadn’t heard a word from her since she moved to Florida, but I wouldn’t put it past her to do something to mess this up now that the divorce was about to become final.
Maybe she wants Jackson back. Maybe she wants Ryder back. Maybe . . .
“Ryder,” Hazel says softly. “Why don’t you go practice on your piano. I need to talk to Olivia.”
The little boy skips toward the baby grand. Within moments, a soft, sweet melody flows from the keys. Hazel takes me by the hand and leads me over to the couch.
“Breathe, Olivia. Everything’s fine.”
“Then why hasn’t he called?”
“Because he’s stuck in court.”
“He could text, at least.”
She smiles.
“Nervous, are we?”
“Jackson said that today is just a formality. That there’s no reason to worry.”
“Jackson’s a very smart man and a fine attorney. If he says don’t worry, then don’t worry.”
Sighing heavily, I close my eyes and try to focus on the music that echoes in the air. The song is lovely and relaxing, although I don’t recognize it at all.
“Better?” Hazel asks, patting my hand affectionately. “I need to go check on dinner. Be right back. Oh, and you got some mail. It’s in your room.”
“Thanks, Hazel.”
Needing something to distract my anxious mind, and with Ryder content at the piano, I head to my room, where I find a small stack of mail on the desk. It’s mostly junk, along with a card from Mom and my monthly bank statement.
How long has it been since I actually checked my bank account?
It’s funny. When I was a poor college student living in my studio apartment, I checked my bank app religiously, budgeting down to the penny. Then I was hired as Ryder’s nanny, and suddenly, my rent was free and my paychecks were ridiculous. So ridiculous, in fact, that I’d stopped depositing them months ago.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t need the money.
I open the top desk drawer and find the pile of uncashed checks. I’m too afraid to add them up, knowing the total would probably make me sick, but I just can’t cash them. Things are different now. Jackson and I are in love, and I’m no longer the nanny.
We’re a family, and you don’t pay family.
Still, I’m curious—and a little afraid that I’m overdrawn and don’t know it—so I grab my phone and log on to my bank app to check my balance.
I blink, unbelieving, when I see the amount.
Scrolling through my transactions, I see several deposits that I didn’t make—$500 a week for the past three months. Which is right around the time I stopped depositing my paychecks.
Someone has access to my bank account.
Someone is in trouble.
“Olivia?”
The sweet sound of Jackson’s voice echoing from the hallway momentarily thrills me, making me forget my rage. I dig through the drawer until I find a pen and my checkbook—another thing I haven’t used in months—before stuffing the uncashed paychecks back into the desk.
“There you are,” he says, standing in the doorway.
With a smile, Jackson leans against the door and loosens his tie. The sight of him makes me sigh happily. Then I remember I’m mad.
“Jackson Healey, we need to talk.”
His smile turns into a frown as he slowly sits down on my bed.
“Sounds serious.”
“It is.”
I walk over to the bed and sit down beside him. Angrily, I click the pen, write him a check, and rip it out before handing it to him.
Jackson sighs heavily. “Olivia, look—”
“No, you look. First of all, I did not give you permission to deposit money